Cutting Away
I didn’t write yesterday. Yes, it was hard. Habit, desire, and intentions all draw me back. Getting lost in a good book when reading is easy and entertaining. Its the same experience, but deeper, when writing one.
So, I didn’t sit down with pen and paper or at the laptop to write, but the writing continued in my brain. As the story resides in my mind and the novel is taking shape in the computer, many things are put into the tale. Yesterday, I made decisions to cut some adventures to keep the story tidier, reduce complications, and keep the pace up.
That’s the writing life. Until it’s done, you’re discovering and nurturing characters, story, concept, playing it first through mental processes, then spilling it across pages. In the case of novels with a sweep being driven by its setting or time – say, historic, science fiction or fantasy, or a different culture – added issues with focus are brought on by how much of that other place is to be included. It’s a personal decision for every tale. As the writer and creator, it’s a challenge to shape it all. When I do, I create a lot that I enjoy. Readers don’t require the entire world, so I need to strip some of my darlings from the tale.
The ones set aside never completely go away. On the computer, they’re put into other documents, annotated with their heritage, along with the reasons they were cut. They live on in my mind, too, perhaps resurfacing in other stories.
Got my coffee. Time to sit down again and write like crazy, at least one more time.
Thundering In
They thundered in on loud, glittering machines (Harley motorcyles), ostentatious in their efforts to be cool and tough, shattering me with their numbers and volume.
It was the muses, awakened, returned, and energetic.
Six thirty AM, I’d just finished reviewing my dreams and wasn’t ready to get out of bed. I’d stayed up late watching “Ozark” on Netflix. A cat (Tucker, black and white, long-furred) was nestled against me, warm and purring. Yeah, no need to get up.
I began going through my manuscript in my head. I’d finished reading it. It was okay. Satisfactory.
Yeah, satisfactory and okay weren’t what I was looking for, damn it.
So the muses began riding around, revving their engines and hurling ideas at me. Do this, write this, what about this?
No, that’d be a much different book and not the one that this book is. Ah, but what about doing this? Hmmm…that makes sense. It’s attractive. Appealing.
Time to write (well, edit) like crazy, one more time.
But first, I really need coffee.
Synopsis Time
I’ve read through and revised (once again) OMDT – Other Moments, Different Times. That fifth draft looks good. Now I’ve turned it over to an copy-editor for proofing. As that’s progressing, I turned to writing the synopsis.
I usually dislike writing queries and a synopsis. They’re different from fiction writing, and I need to turn on a different skill set for them. It’s work I’d rather not do.
But I’m having fun this time. That’s a surprise and a relief. However, the coffee mug is empty and the butt is bemoaning the hard chair. About four hours have passed. Most of that time has been sitting except for hourly breaks (hello, Fitbit) to walk around. Besides that, my stomach is saying, “Hey, um, hate to be that guy, but food would be welcomed, you know, like lunch?”
So, time once again to stop this crazy writing thing and go off to other matters.