6.17.14 - On Shitty First Drafts

This is one of my favorite quotes, because it is so very true. I know writers who are done with their work when they type The End, but for the vast majority of us, The End means the real work is just beginning. 

Which is why I was reluctant to send pages north. Of course, yesterday I realized I needed to make changes to one of the chapters I'd sent. And so it goes - note to editor, changes made in manuscript, the damn autopsy chapter finally written, and the sudden realization that now, with this "tweak" -- because it wasn't as big of a change as I thought work wise -- the book has altered tremendously, in ways I don’t even understand yet.

It’s days like today I enjoy writing so much, when a story twists in on itself, when something unexpected happens. This is also why I don't like outlining. I like to write shitty first drafts. I like to make mistakes, to realize I've given too much information, that it would be best to pull back, layer in what I know later. I can't imagine doing it all right the first time. 

1000 net today, plus finished the critique of a dear friend’s manuscript, and did a nice interview with a magazine here in town. Listened to a little Rachmaninoff, read some on A BREATH OF SNOW AND ASHES during my lunch break. Talked to BFF and was encouraged to get over myself and write the damn scene already. (Which I did, so there.) Off to see Malificent with the DH tonight, which means... popcorn for dinner! 

Also, Catherine has a giveaway for 5 advanced reader copies of her new Savich and Sherlock book, POWER PLAY. It's a stunner!  Enter here. 

6.16.14 - On The Business of Mondays

Ah, Monday. 

I started with the best of intentions today, and ended up with exactly zero words on the WIP, because other pressing projects took precedence. I know, I know, NOTHING should take precedence over my writing, but sometimes, the business of writing does get in the way. 

I am reading a manuscript for a friend, and I want to give her a tight turnaround. I talked about the secret project at length with another. Mum needs a bit of extra attention now that she’s home. There is an interview waiting in my inbox, a website reboot underway, and I tweaked the fonts on my own site today, trying to get it to look just so. Had two calls with NY, and of course, kittens...

The truth is, the business of being a writer can sometimes become overwhelming in its many forms. It would be lovely if we were simply sent off into the hinterlands to produce words of impact, but that rarely happens in the modern publishing world.

It's not all bad. Sitting at my dining room table signing tip sheets this weekend, I had one of those utterly surreal, I never in my wildest imagination thought I’d be doing this moments. I do so love my job.

But ... without a daily word count, the books don't get written. So the good, the bad, the ugly about the business end doesn't matter a whit if I don't accomplish the other part. The creative part. Which, truth be told, is kicking my ass at the moment.

I sent the first 100 pages of Sam #4 to my editor Friday. I’m not waiting for her to get back to me, but am soldiering forth - and today ended up being a day of thinking, trying to decide how best to do so. I think I came up with something, so tomorrow, with my schedule cleared, I will attack the idea and see where it takes me.

Also, I promised a photo of my now completed office wall — I love the way it all came together, and there’s just enough room for a few more book covers…

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6.13.14 - On Being Creatively Satisfied

The Winter of our Discontent

I've been wanting to write a long form piece on creative satisfaction, but since I haven't gotten around to it, I'll delve in here briefly. An interviewer asked Merlin Mann if he was creatively satisfied. I loved the question, and asked it of myself. The answer was a resounding no, for all the reasons I spoke about yesterday.

With deadlines and multiple series and rushing all the time, I still don't feel like I've hit my stride, found the perfect character, the right story. I have too many books I want to write. And time, she is a ticking, you know? My creative biological clock has been on fire recently. I feel oddly like time is running out. I've hit middle age (not sure how the hell THAT happened) and while I feel twenty-seven, reality is, I'm not. I won't be able to do this forever. And the amount of story in my head that needs to come out, well, everyone tells me I need to slow down, but if I do, I won't get them all down.

It's that lost eight years, when I quit writing entirely because of my boob of a teacher, coming back to haunt me. I've written fourteen novels in eleven years (ten in the past eight). So say I'd written a book a year during that lost time, and a book a year since, then I'd be at twenty-one now.

So I guess I'm only seven behind. Well. That changes things. By the end of 2016 or early 2017, I should be caught up to where I should be. 

A relaxing thought.

Silly, huh?

200 words only today, but edited a large chuck and sent off the first 100 pages to my editor. Working this weekend, I'll make up for it, I'm sure. 

6.12.14 - On Being Present

I am a huge fan of Dani Shapiro. I love her blog, I love her new book on creativity, I love her deliberateness, her mindfulness, her patience. I also realized we title our blogs the same way, with an On prefix. With so much admiration for the woman, you'd think I'd do all in my power to emulate her.

And I do, in so many ways. I'm trying to be more deliberate, more mindful, more patient with myself. But today I read this piece and simply couldn't relate. 

What next? she asks herself. She has been on book tour, traveled, taught, done all the things that sap our creativity. And now she needs to know what to work on next.

And I suppose this is a great failing of mine, why I am not as deliberate as I'd like, because I have an inability to stop and wonder, what next?

Since I signed my very first book deal, I have been on deadline. I've done four deals with Mira, each for three books. Written two books a year, minimum, since 2006. The deals with Catherine and Putnam are for two books at a time, too. Between Samantha books and Nicholas books, I'm scheduled out through 2016 right now.

That means there's always a deadline, a need to think ahead, to anticipate when a proposal is due. To be coming up with ideas for what's next well in advance of when I'll have to share said ideas. I'm usually thinking what next when I'm about 50K into a book - then again, I write series, so it's easier to be in the moment for the characters storyline, to see where they need to go in their arc, than if I were writing standalones.

And it's been an incredible blessing. I function better this way. I can't imagine writing being any other way.

That said, it's very hard to stay present when you're always living in the future. 

I have so many books I want to write, so many ideas and proposals and stories that need telling. So many genres I want to try. People ask where do I get my ideas -- my problem is, I get them everywhere, all the time, and I don't have nearly enough time to write them all.

What next?

I look forward to the day I can truly ask that of myself.

2228 words today. Moving the story forward. (she says, smiling...)

6.11.14

I haven't been posting much lately, as I'm sure you've noticed. I'll be honest, I turned my daily journaling here private after an uncomfortable run in with someone who made me realize nothing we say or do on the internet is private. And I of course ran the other direction screaming, because I am at heart a rather private person, and, and, and....

But, I miss blogging. I miss the interaction, the examination of my work, the insights I gain when I try to put things I'm doing and thinking into words. Doing it for myself is a journal, which we all know I dislike. Doing it as a blog feels, somehow, more constructive. And damn it, it's not right that I let a stranger chase me away from something I generally like doing.

Ergo: 

1200 words today on Sam #4 - WHAT LIES BEHIND - taking me over the 21K mark. This book has been giving me fits, as they all do until I hit the magical 25K/100 page point. That's when things suddenly start making sense, the little subconscious breadcrumbs I've left behind begin to show themselves, and I get an idea of what the story is about. But this one - wow. Nothing works, the story won't coalesce. Yesterday, I finally realized I needed to have myself a little come to Jesus with the story, see what was wrong, let my mind make some leaps. 

My biggest problem: I tried to outline this one before I started writing. Enormous fail. It knocked me off my game for a month, the book suffered, and that was a month I didn't have to lose. I've been kicking around the first 70 pages for three weeks now, two steps forward, three steps back. Procrastinating and dribbling words onto the page and all the amateurish things I do when I'm stuck. (It is not writer's block. Well, actually, it is, but it's my story telling me I'm off on the wrong path. Story is always right!)

And then... this morning, after taking a deep breath and rolling up my sleeves and putting on the Deathly Hallows soundtrack with the express intent of either making it work or throwing it out, an idea came.

I think I'm on the right track now - it's been a day of enormous breakthroughs, which makes me feel much better about making the August 1 deadline.

So help me, chickens. Cheer me on. Tell me what you've been up to. Ask questions. Let's get things back on track here, shall we? 

My favorite link today: Elizabeth Gilbert on Craft (via the divine Ariel Lawhon) which is a perfect jumping off point for tomorrow.