Unfortunately, a half-day. . .

With the fall term coming to a close, I have big projects due that I've hardly begun. There is one due on Thursday that I've only done some precursory work on, and I really have to focus my attention on it for the next few days. Which means that things like writing have to take a backseat for a while.

But I don't want to neglect it entirely, so today, rather than not write at all, and rather than try for ten thousand words, I'm going to try for 5. It feels a stunted amount; I usually have to struggle and push my way through several thousand words before I really get on a roll. 5K feels like I'll be cutting out just as I get into the swing of things. It feels like a compromise that leaves no one happy, but today, it'll have to do.

Well, it's not a concrete deadline. If I'm really going smoothly, I'll keep going until things are played through to the end. The 5K limit is really the limit if I'm struggling to keep going, which happens from time to time.

I just hope it doesn't happen today.

 

Wish me luck.

Cris.

 

Tally-Ho...

Getting a late start today because I had to, among other things, put the Christmas lights onto the house.

But I'm ready now, and I'm going at it full-steam... or... you know, full-steam after a slow and shaky warm-up plagued by false starts and loud, indecisive puttering. (I've about milked the train analogy to death, I think.)

My beginning word count for Scamper is 110,128. My goal, therefore, has to be 120,128, and this has to be done in the next 24 hours (still technically in one day, though not all on Sunday).

Today's title says it all, I think: Tally Ho.

 
 

 
 

Cris

Mission. . . Accomplished? Sort of?

Well, despite my best efforts, I wasn't able to write 10,000 words yesterday. Having started the whole thing at 3pm, it was too hefty a goal to set; I was up until 5 in the morning (again, it's a damned good thing I don't have school today, or I'd be well screwed), but even so, I fell asleep at my keyboard. Which was a bit cool, actually. It's not something I've ever done before, and of all things, this made me feel most like a writer. Strange, isn't it? It wasn't the 9,300 words I wrote, or the editing, or the new scenes of characterization that added a depth to secondary characters that previously had no depth. . . . it was the falling asleep that did it for me. :P

Well. All was not lost.

As I mentioned, I did write 9,300 words, and that's nothing to scoff at. Today, when I woke up, I sat myself before my computer, cranked out the rest of my goal, and now, my word count rests comfortably in the six digits, at 100,214. Awesome.

It feels weird to say it. By many accounts, that's a whole book (80-125K is the size of a lot of general fiction, I'm told). If you're going for a Brandon-Sanderson-esque epic, then 100 thousand are just your first steps on a larger journey. That dude writes books around 250-400,000 words large. And good that he does; I've read every one of his books, and they're all fantastic. He pulls it off. I'm not sure I could.

Which is why I'm aiming for somewhere around 200-250K for Scamper. That, too, is a hefty goal, but I'll get here. Hell, I'm nearly halfway there already.

This was a lot of fun; frantic writing, damn the internal editor, just keep going and going, not always producing the greatest work (though a lot of it was pretty good, I daresay), but always producing.

Yesterday's epic goal was inspired by the need to reach, for the first time ever, a word count of 100,000. But I'm beginning to wonder if I couldn't make it a regular thing, where each weekend, I aspire to write 10,000 words in a day. A NaNoWriMo Light, if you will (only not really, because if I do it every weekend for a month, I'll have 40,000 words, which is just 10K less than the goal for NaNoWriMo.)

I'm excited about this. It's a hell of a prospect, I think, and I look forward to giving it another shot this weekend.

 

 

Wish me luck.

Cris.

Today’s Goal:

As of this writing, my word count for Scamper is at 90,627. When I started writing earlier today, it was at 90,100, give or take a few words (I've been doing a lot of re-reading, a lot of editing, but not writing a lot of fresh material).

I'm excited at the prospect of reaching, for the first time ever, 100,000 words, so today, I write, and I won't stop until that goal is accomplished. =)

(It's a good thing I don't have school tomorrow, because I'll probably be up pretty damn late.)

 
 

Wish me lots (and lots and lots and lots) of luck.

 
 

Cris.

Disregard previous post

Well, I've rewritten that missing scene, and at the risk of sounding full of myself, I think I did pretty damn well. The characterization's not as strong, but there are parts that are better than before. Setting the scene, and a bit of foreshadowing that didn't exist in the previous version. Better still, I managed to string together five or six strings of a few paragraphs each into one 5-page scene. In all, I wrote around 1500 words today, and though the scene's not quite done (there's an action sequence I'm putting off, as action's not my strong suit), it's a good start. Better, even, than what I originally had for Part Two, where things happen too fast, and I head, in the very first chapter, into a situation that shouldn't come around until well towards the end of this section of the book. It's not bad writing, what I had before, but it throws Scamper (and the reader) into the thick of things before they're ready, and I wasn't quite prepared to that yet.

So, oddly enough, losing that scene ended up working out for the best.

Who'd've thought?

 

Cris.

*tired sigh*

I wrote a scene a few months ago. It was a couple of pages long, and an interesting addition to Scamper, and how he interacts within a group. It characterized someone who, previously, didn't really stand out from the other, minor characters in the group, made him a more rounded person. It wasn't a perfect scene, but it was a good one.

Long story short, I lost the scene.

It's not on my old computer. It's not on my new computer. Not on any of my three flashdrives. It's not on paper (I don't think), and not a part of any of the 30K (or so) word documents where I keep the scenes that don't yet fit in, or that I've cut out.

It's just gone, and this kills me, because I'm convinced that this 5-page scene would be a great way to enter Part Two. There are other ways to do it (I've tried and scrapped at least a half-dozen distinct ways), but I'm convinced this scene would be the best way.

If only I can find it. =/

I can always rewrite the scene, of course, but I'm always dubious of this. Rewriting a scene from memory is a tricky thing. I am, in essence, writing an outline of a scene, going by what I remember. The little flairs of inspiration, the turns of phrase, the characterizations, are gone. They won't, experience has taught me, come around a second time.

So back up your work, kids. Back it up often, and in multiple places. Two places on the same computer doesn't count. Invest in a flashdrive (or three). Use CDs. Or, if you can't afford any of these, just print out your stuff, and store multiple copies in different places.

Now, I'm going to try to recreate inspiration.

Wish me luck.



Cris.

Getting through the muck

Writing means reading. A lot. Write a scene; then revise it. Revise it again. Figure out where it fits chronologically (because I never write from beginning to end; I tend to hop around the timeline), then rewrite it to fit. Then revise it.

This involves a lot of reading of the story; which, when the scene I'm reading isn't all that great, means suffering through what can be (and sometimes is) some pretty bad writing.

It's the process, I know, by which bad writing becomes good writing, but sometimes it's tedious, and sometimes it's boring.

Then there's the other side of the coin. There are the parts I read that I haven't read in weeks or months; parts written well, which draw me to the story like they were someone else's words. An action scene that has me on the edge of my seat, or an emotional scene between two people that makes my heart skip a beat. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's a major thrill. Especially when I'm in the middle of an especially tough case of writer's block. I read a scene like this and find myself in a state of disbelief; I can write like this? Since when?

It's a boost to the ego, a shot of adrenaline I desperately need when slogging through oceanic levels of mud. Because if I've written well before, it only stands to reason that I can do it again, right?

Right?

Like I said, it doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's a thrill, and though it's not why I write, it certainly helps keep me going.

Just a thought.

 

--Cris

 

PS – Writing also means inevitable Microsoft Word crashes. Save your work, kids. Save often.

*whooooooooooooosh*

I'm writing at the café in Powell's Books in downtown Portland, OR. This place is awesome. 5 floors of wall-to-wall books, a café with free wi-fi, and reading material that you're not required to buy.

But I didn't come here for the tea or the ambiance (which is nevertheless quite enjoyable). I came here to write, yet the muse, undependable wretch that it (he? she?) is, is nowhere to be found. Thus the name of today's blog, which refers to the air blowing through my empty, uninspired, cavernous head.

Well, that's okay. It's half past noon, and this place won't close for hours. I have nowhere to be, and nothing more important to do than to sit here and crank out at least two thousand words.

"Establish a time and place," Stephen King said. "Make an appointment, and eventually, the muse will show up."

I'm paraphrasing, of course.

 

Wish me luck.

 

--Cris

 

Imagine my surprise…

I've been doing a lot of reviewing, lately. Writing, as well, but the ratio weighs heavily towards going through what I have, and altering it. Creating new material is a small fraction of what I've done the past week or so.

So imagine my surprise when I discover not only that, in my manuscript, I reach a page titled "END OF PART ONE", but that I agree with it.

It's been a long time since I've read through the whole story. Mostly, I've been focusing on the beginning chapters, because I believe that to continue into the rest of the story, you need a foundation for the story to stand on. This foundation doesn't need to be rock-solid, but it should hold up to passing scrutiny, which means getting rid of plot holes or inconsistency, spelling and grammar mistakes, (all of which can nag at me, and casts an unfavorable pall on the entire project), and have it bear some resemblance to the story I want told. So, imagine my surprise when I discovered that I've done just that. I have 125 pages of story that, while imperfect, I'm reasonably happy with.

And it only took a year and a half.

Next, PART TWO! Of SIX! Woo!!!

 
 

Wish me luck.

 
 

Cris.

Writing in a public place…

I'm at the public library; I've heard extolled the virtues of writing in public places. People whose work I respect (not all writers, but many) say that it's a good way to shock the system, to change your environment, and maybe pull yourself out of a slump. Maybe. Previous times I've tried this, I've done so with pencil and paper, not a computer. It has worked, in past times, but the process has also been hindered by not being able to view parts of my story I couldn't carry on me (because I'm not about to print a 260-page document just so I can reference it now and then when most of the document will be altered or deleted). Now, I have every bit of the story with me (it's on my laptop), but I also have the following: TV shows; music; movies; THE INTERNET (with games, forums, and more TV shows, music and movies to be found)… so, obviously, there are downsides to carrying your entire workstation around with you.

But I'm a strong-willed lad (that's not true), and I have a pretty good work ethic (also false), and I know how to allocate my time effectively between work and play (BIG false). I'm fairly confident (false) that I can, in my hour or two here, accomplish more work than I could have at home (false).

Before I get to work, I'm just gonna check up on a few things online (read: gonna surf mindlessly for the next hour), then I'm gonna write. (Maybe.)

  
 Wish me luck. 
 

Cris.

 

 

Edit: Well, I'm back home. I'd forgotten the library closes at 5 on Sundays, but even so, it wasn't time wasted. I've edited a good 10-15 pages (including clarifying some scenes that confused even me), and wrote another two or three.

Being back home, the challenge is now to keep going, even though it feels like the entire house is a black hole for creativity.

As with all things, though, the more you write, the easier it gets, so I'm gonna see if I can't continue, even though the muse (and the mood) seem to have vanished.

Wish me luck.

Can’t make up my mind, it seems

Though I've decided to focus on Scamper, I find myself thinking of Ethan and Laran more and more. One scene in particular fascinates me: Ethan and Laran are walking through the dark jungle; they come upon a meadow, and wander into the tall grass. Ethan looks up and sees something in the night sky; it freaks him out. He runs up a hill, looks to the valley below, and sees a portion of present-day suburbia, dropped in the middle of the jungle. What he'd seen in the sky was light pollution from the city; it had sparked a dormant memory (he's an amnesiac, remember) and when he realized what it was, the implication terrified him.

It's a herald of larger things; just the imagery of it makes me want to write, but so far, it's all I have. It needs a lot of work; the whole story does, but every time I sit down to write, it's like trying to draw water from a dry well.

Which won't stop me, of course. It's just another hurdle to get over.

Just keep going, and don't stop until you're done. Worry later whether or not it makes any sense.

At least, that's the plan.

 
 

-- Cris

I had an idea…

For all the wacky antics Scamper and crew get into, the world they reside in was pretty blank. I know a lot about their orphanage, and their part of town, but the further we get from that part of their world, the less I know.

Recently, I've had an idea. It involves the creating of an empire through the systematic conquering of neighboring kingdoms, partly inspired by what I know of how China and ancient Persia formed (very little, but research is under way). Rome, too, now that I think of it.

It's early; a mere notion, at this point, but it's interesting an interesting one; worth looking into, I think.

 

--Cris

Ah, Blogger; I’ve missed ye, ye blonde, busty bitch…

It's two o'clock in the morning; I'm surfing the web, posting on a blog (via MS Word; ain't technology grand?) and watching Comedy Central (Jackie Kashian; an underrated comic, I think). You know what I'm not doing? Writing. (Well, except for this; which doesn't count.)

I got a laptop a couple of weeks ago (give or take a day or two); I thought it would increase my productivity. (That's not why I got the laptop; I'm just saying, I thought it might help). It hasn't. Now, I just have more places I can go to not write.

Distractions all around. Too many distractions, and I'm easily distracted.

I'm still working on Scamper. It's been a while since I've worked on Out of Tadara, but even though I haven't made any real progress there, my brain tinkers with it without my permission. Out of nowhere, I find myself having Ethan-related thoughts: How old is he? (around 15); what's his environment like? (he lives on a river island, several days' walk away from a native village)… etc. My brain does this all on its own. I'll be watching Discovery Channel, or the History Channel, and my brain will suddenly go, "Ooh! Dinosaurs! Are there dinosaurs in Ethan's world? (No. Yes. Maybe.) Will he ever fight one? (No.) Can he have one for a pet? (Hell no.)"

And yet, for all of this background noise, it's been a long time (months, at least) since I've sat down and written more than a page or two. I don't know what my hang-up is. Nothing ever seems good enough. Ever. Write, then rewrite. Then rewrite the rewrite. Then scrap the whole thing, and start over. Then rewrite the restart. Set it aside. Let it sit. Move on. Write something else. Rewrite something else. Come back to what I wrote. Rewrite it.

Ad infinitum.

I've been reviewing some of my old posts, on this blog and others I've started (and subsequently abandoned). I mention deadlines a lot. "The deadline is August 31^st. Remember, August 31^st. The deadline is still August 31^st. Change of plans; the deadline is now in September."

The theory behind that was simple: because deadlines worked in school, and because they worked for NaNoWriMo, and because they still work when I do Flash Challenges for Liberty Hall Writers (you get 90 minutes to write a complete story centered on a prompt they provide), they should work for writing novels on my own. Yet I'd overlooked the key factor in these situations: The deadlines were coming from someone who is not me. It's that outside pressure that pushes you to work (by "you" I mean "me"), which is why it wasn't working when I tried to do it myself.

In this very blog, I said that January 31^st was the deadline for Scamper. Not for the completion of the novel, but for putting it on the backburner and working on something else. In that sense, it worked. I've started a webcomic, State of Dementia, that's been updating three times a week since February 29^th. I'm quite happy with it. It's a new medium to work with, a new structure to tell a complete story (It took me 50+ strips just to complete the first storyline), and it's a lot of fun. The website design is less than ideal, but I'm not a web guy. I can appreciate a good-looking site, but it's not that important to me. I've made a deal with a web designer who'll do it for free if I let him advertise on the site (also for free), and I'm eager to see what he'll come up with, but if that hadn't come to light, I'd be content with what I have now.

As is the case with Out of Tadara, I'm still working on Scamper, as well. I put it into the background when I started State of Dementia, but damned if that sucker didn't just elbow its way back to the forefront. Ideas for story, character, settings, even plot twists occur at the oddest times, with the oddest stimuli, and I have to write them down. I've been doing it since I was nine. I can't not write it down.

I'm starting art school in October. One of my first thoughts was "That'll be my new deadline for Scamper." Then I remembered my past history with self-imposed deadlines, and I reconsidered the notion.

My new philosophy on writing is thus: Just write.

I'm not going to impose anymore deadlines. No goals to be reached. No time limits. Just write, and sooner or later ("later", probably, but I'm okay with that), it'll get done. That line where I'm most comfortable, (and which, if I stray too far away from, causes a near-paralyzing nervous anxiety; which, I believe, could have something to do with why I haven't finished) will shift; I'll grow comfortable in a new place (right now, I seem to be stuck at 35-40%), and move on from there.

It could take a while. Years, even. But you know what they say: The journey of a thousand miles, blah blah blah.

 

--Cristian V. Gurau

PS – Visit State of Dementia. Leave a comment. Click on some ads. I don't do it for the money (obviously, as there is none), but it sure would help keep it alive longer.

Update.

Mission accomplished.

Final word count is 91,970 words, which means I wrote 1,362 words tonight. (It's amazing what you can do when you stop pissing and moaning and making up excuses. And by "you", of course, I mean "me". Or rather, "I", if I want to be a grammar-Nazi about it. And, given that this is a writing blog, I kinda do.)

Having done that, I'm hauling my fat arse into bed.

And again, Happy New Year.


-- Cris

Apropos, and by the by...

I just reached 300 pages in Courier New/Times New Roman, 12-point font.

That's pretty cool, and the most I've ever written for one story.

Allow me a second to pat myself on the back...

*

*

*

..aaaaand now it's back to writing.


--Cris

Happy New Year

It's six thirty in the morning, and I'm tired as all getout, but I haven't written anything substantial in days, and I'm beginning to feel like I'm dodging the draft, or something. To alleviate this feeling like there's a hornblower biding his time in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to spring forth and reveal me for the fraud that I am, I'll write a thousand words, and hope it makes me feel better.

The deadline's still Jan. 31st.

It's the new year, and I'd really hate to start it with a big lie. So Jan. 31st is the final deadline. No more extensions. No more excuses. Scamper is done by then, or it won't be, and either way, I'm moving on to something else. The whole point of the deadline was not to finish the book (which would be swell), but to put a finite date in mind, after which I would put all writing on the backburner and focus more on my art. I've been drawing for years longer than I've been writing, but my drawing is still little better than rudimentary.

I don't know if I still want to go to art school (and the art school in New Jersey is a BIG question mark), but I want to be a better artist than I am, and whether I do it on my own or in a school, there has to come a point when I put drawing before writing, and that won't happen if I'm hung up over the last chapter, or that last paragraph, or finding just the right word (there's never a right word. It's a fairy tale. Like Santa Clause. Or Jesus).

Well.

There it is. January 31st.

Put it on your calendars.


--Cris