It's one of those rare nights where I'm just sitting around with a computer on my lap and all the writing time in the world, and yet here I am stalking Twitter and writing a blog post. Although I haven't written a blog in a while, and I actually got some writing done today already! It's amazing. I'm slowly breaking down the wall of unfamiliarity that formed while I was sick and didn't write for a week an a half.
I don't write chronologically. I usually start out that way, and write three scenes, but then I'll think of another scene to add, and that will add to adding more scenes, and so on. Overall I work from beginning to end, but I continuously plump as I go. I don't edit though. Even if I decide early on that I am going to cut a section, I add -CUT- to the heading and just leave it there. It makes my word counts feel good. =]
My main character needs a bit of beefing. She's just... typical. Not that I want her to be able to read minds or fly or anything, I want her strength to be an inner strength. I guess everything is too early to worry about that. I can always work it in once I have the overall story and actually know where I'm going with things. Cause I don't right now, you know.
My goal for December is 24k, which works out to be 774 words per day. I'm shooting for 1000 a day though, because I know shit ain't gonna happen on the weekends. But I'm still not satisfied. I'm at the point where I know I can write more in a day, but I can't block off enough time to get much more than that. Of course, it's my fault. I get tired of lugging my laptop to and from work, even if I do spend three hours on the train each day. Sometimes (a lot of the time) I just want to sleep or read. But then that's three hours of writing I lose out on. And then there's the quilting, completely unnecessary but surprisingly stress relieving. And when the hell am I supposed to get any reading done?!?
Goodness. And it's 10:48 already. I try to be in bed by 11. And I wonder why I can't get out of bed at 5:30 to get to the train station on goddamn time. And, poor Phil comes home from work around 12:30, wide awake and I'm snoring. Hey, I got 6 hours of sleep during the week during the college, and I functioned then. Sure, I slept in till one in the afternoon on the weekends, but I can live with that. Everything is just so dark in the morning now.
This is what we call the "I have nothing constructive to say" post.
I was reading Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clark, but I can't really get into it. I'm around chapter 11. I know it's supposed to be amazing, but when? I'm waiting for my mind to be blown. And it's a really big book to carry around, but you can't read the footnotes on the nook, and they're like half the book. I grabbed Delirium by Lauren Oliver today, which I have been excited to read and I made a special trip to get it. Excited to start that in the morning. I loved Before I Fall.
And there's a Philly Lit Night this weekend, which I have been really excited for since I heard about them but now that one is coming up I'm turning all wallflower. "You mean I have to talk to people? Coherently? While drinking???" And there are going to be people there who have FINISHED THINGS and it will be intimidating. Balls to the wall, Gina. BALLS TO THE WALL.