Internet and Ellipsis

For the past several days, I haven’t had internet. I just moved (yes, again) 800 miles. The place I’m in now doesn’t have internet. I have a laptop. I can go to the library. It’s right up the street. About 200 yards away. Not far at all.

But I haven’t except to do necessary things. The libraries where I grew up were so numerous compared to the number of people living there. About one library for every 4 square miles or space. There were hardly ever more than 12 people in any given library at a time (and in some libraries, considerably less than that) They were always so private. It felt like you were alone, which for me, was comfortable.

Relevance? I went to the library here yesterday, and there were at least 60 people. It felt crowded. Over populated. I can handle crowds just fine, but not in my library. I was made really uncomfortable by it. I know that sounds silly, but to me, I library should be a private place to be alone. (Funny side note- despite the large number of people, this library was actually quieter than any of the libraries I grew up in)

I didn’t like it. So I’ve just been sitting in my new home. No internet. All my books are packed away in who-knows-which boxes, but we don’t plan on living in this house for more than a few months, so we aren’t unpacking much of anything.

No internet. No books. Lots of free time, because I’m not unpacking, and because I haven’t found a job yet in this new place.

Two days ago I wrote 5,000, FIVE-THOUSAND words. That’s a lot of words. I’m really liking this no-internet thing (except for the fact that I can’t get anything BUT writing done)

I get internet installed tomorrow (hopefully) but I think I’m going to make it a point not to use it until I’ve written 2000 words/day (until I get a job and start going to school, than I might... MIGHT cut the number back a little)

Those are almost NANOWRIMO numbers. Last year I failed. This year I wont. I’m already planning for it. Haha.

I meant to talk about Ellipis, but I try not to make my posts too long, so those will have to wait.

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Water

I have an 11 year old sister who asked me to go with her and her friend to a pond near our house to swim. Although I was tired, I agreed. The weather was getting a little chilly, so instead of swimming with them, I sat on the bench on the shore. The little beach, though public property, is unnamed and secluded; only people who live in our neighborhood even know of it's existence.

Bored, I watched a frog that jumped around in the water, and was suddenly inspired to write. I had no paper, of course, since I hadn't planned on writing, but we were alone, so I pulled out my cell phone and turned on the voice recorder.

I spent the next hour telling the next scenes in my book to my phone, and watching my sister, bunches of fishies, a few frogs, and a turtle.

Water does this for me. I do my best thinking in or near water. I can't tell you the number of plot-holes I've filled while washing dishes. I can't explain how many ideas I've gotten while in the shower. The writing I do when sitting on the shore or listening to the rain is better than any other writing I have.

I think I'm going to start going to the pond more (also, I need to find the headphones that go with my phone, so that if I need to record things again, No one else has to listen to me tell a story, and retell it, and correct myself, etc)

On a slightly different note, I am now going to start closing ALL my posts with a word count of whatever it is that I've been working on lately.

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The Right to Write

Okay, you caught me. This is just a rant. A rant about writing, but still just a rant.

Several years ago I wrote a story, a piece of flash fiction, which I now call The Human Cycle. Only one person besides myself has read it. I posted it online for two hours one night, but I took it down soon after, before it got any hits.

If you ask me, it's the best thing I've ever written. I have never been prouder of anything. I love that story. It's only 926 words, but it took my 8 months to write.

So who is that one person who saw it? And why wouldn't I show anyone else?

The person who read it was a friend of mine. She had watched me labor over it for months, but hadn't read it. When I finally finished it, I printed out a copy and handed it over.

She read it, looked me in the eye and said "Have you ever heard the phrase 'write what you know?' How do you know what it's like to be in the delivery room. You have no right to write this." She shrugged, like it was no big deal, and then tore the two page story down the middle.

She was right. The opening scene was about a woman giving birth. It's a short paragraph, but very emotional none-the-less. I have never given birth, and I have never been in the room when someone else gave birth. I have no personal experience with it. Maybe that did make me unqualified. I am now afraid to show it to people.

I have been told probably hundreds of times that my writing wasn't good enough. It's been implied even more than that. But none of that ever bothered me more than necessary. I can handle being told that I suck. I can't handle being told that I'm not "allowed" to write things.

I know better now. I know that I have the right to write whatever I want, but now I can't bring myself to let people see The Human Cycle. It's become too private.

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I'm BACK!

I'm going to be honest with you all. I've been scared. I thought I was seeing some symptoms of a terrible situation that I have been in, in the past. A lot of times before, I've written a few thousand words, gotten a little stale, forced through it, fell out of it, moved on to something else, and never gone back. I have been absolutely TERRIFIED that I was about to lose The Circle.

It wasn't just The Circle I was losing interest in. I suppose I was just going through a phase of distraction in general. I haven't wanted to post because even though I have been writing, I wasn't making progress on anything special. I've written a few words on my as of yet untitled psychological horror novel. Some on a short story that I meant to submit to a contest. Some on a few old projects, and I've even started a few new ones. But a hundred words added to everything still doesn't count for much.

NOW! I found it. I found my drive and inspiration again. My muse is back, and I am writing again. Thank God! I was actually going crazy with my inability to write more than a hundred words in one sitting. I was forcing out as many as possible, never giving up, but nothing was happening. I wish I knew what changed my mind. I wish I had a miracle cure, in case this happens again.

Sorry for the rather scattered-ness of this blog post. I'm back in the writing groove, but this isn't what I want to be writing right now. I'm off to go write down what my characters are doing, before they run away again.

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Burn Out

That focus on one story thing that I was doing for The Circle? It's not working out for me. I'm burnt out. Creatively stifled. Just not feeling the story. I have been craving some good writing time, but every time I open The Circle, I look around and find something else to do, or else I force out a few paragraphs of crap. Forcing it just wasn't working out for me.

So, I've made a decision. I'm NOT going to give up on The Circle. I'm NOT going to totally put it away. BUT I'm going to allow myself to work on something else. Another idea that has been haunting me for about a year. That isn't long, for me. I like to let things stew in my head for a bit. Usually I have a story in there for several years before I actually get off my ass and try to write it.

I may have hinted at it before (Have I ever mentioned my memory is utter crap?) or maybe I never did. It's a sort of psychological horror, about an elementary school teacher with a bubble gum addiction. No, in case you're wondering, the gum has nothing to do with anything. I mention it because I just now found it out, when Renee DeLuca (that's her name!) started chewing yet another piece of gum.

I'm struggling with it already. I know I mentioned a long time ago that I have trouble with titles. This extends to naming characters. It's never much of an issue with my main characters. They usually pop into my head mostly-whole, with a first name, appearance, and some bits of personality. Sometimes they have a last name, sometimes their personality is fully formed, sometimes there are other things.

Minor characters, however, usually don't have all that. I usually have one bit of information on them: either a purpose/profession, a personality, an appearance. Something. But it's never much, and it's hardly enough to give them a name. Renee DeLuca's story (which is unnamed, as usual) revolves mostly around her in the classroom, as a second grade teacher. Obviously her students, at least some of them, will need names. I've got nothing. They've got a purpose, but most of them don't have personalities, or appearances. I could go on Facebook and say "Make up some names and personalities for second graders" but that almost feels like cheating. It's fine to ask for names, but asking them for personalities too?

Well anyways, I'm enjoying writing this new piece. I'm still working on The Circle, and.... things are good. Have a lovely day!

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Stress Induced Writers Block

I've had this horrible case of stress-induced writers block and it's been wonderful.

Instead of sitting down and writing, I've been reading my manuscript (not hard, since it's so short) and trying to make note of holes and mistakes. This particular story is on its seven-billionth draft, and sometimes I forget what I included where. Sometimes I rearrange scenes or cut them, and can't remember where I moved them too, or why I got rid of them. I've caught a lot of mistakes that I'd missed on the hundreds of times I've already read this. I even referenced a scene that I had cut. Maybe the right thing to do would be wait until I've finished writing to do this sort of editing, but if I've accidentally forgotten to add a major plot or character-related scene (usually because I thought I added it) and then its not there, I might have to re-write the whole book. I will probably end up doing that anyways, but it's best to make as few mistakes as possible, at least story wise.

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Gone For A While

I'm moving, and wont likely be writing much, and consequently, not posting much. It's an 800 mile move, our lease on this place ends in a week, and we've only just barely started packing and cleaning. I don't write well when my mind is even under a little stress, and because this is such a big move, my stress level is a bit above "little."

Just felt like letting you know that I'll be gone, if anyone is even reading this blog yet.

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