Thursday, April 9, 2009

Writing is a Vampire?

I'm begining to believe that writing drains my soul/energy/social ability. 

I feel terrible. I'm in this awful funk, not quite depressed but definitely bordering on melancholy. I don't want to go anywhere, don't want to do anything, don't want to see anyone (nevermind the fact that I'm throwing a mini-party tonight, don't ask why) all for no particular reason.

The one thing I can pinpoint is that I've started working on my novel again. I actually care about what I'm writing. 

And I think it's sucking out my soul.

Apparently the cost of writing is any sort of normal human interaction. 

Will I stop writing to save my ability to interact with other human beings?

Of course not.

Recluse status here I come!

Friday, April 3, 2009

Writers' Group

So for the first time in, well not a full year, but several months, I have something productive to bring to group. (we thought up a name for the critique group but hell if I can remember it now....) 

Of course we'll probably just be taking care of more business this meeting so i'm back to relying on Mel's critiquing.

The great thing about Mel, is that we've known each other for as long as I've been writing so at this point she is so familiar with my writing habits and characters that she is completely unafraid to tell me when I'm being stupid or if a character is behaving completely ridiculously.

I have to say though I'm itching for a new critiquer. I love Mel and am endlessly appreciative of her input, and I don't want her to stop but I think I'd like another perspective to... 

Well anyway, I'm bringing my camera tonight because apparently we have a grand total of one picture in the gallery on our lovely website. So I am taking matters into my own hands. This is slightly unfair because it means that I have the heads up to make myself look presentable. And I'm not informing anyone else. Perhaps this makes me slightly evil. But hey, I've always wanted to get more in touch with my villains, perhaps this is the first step? 

Yay for progress!

Thursday, April 2, 2009

At Last!

I wrote something useful!

Granted it was one scene that was fixing the end of a section of a novel.

And it was three pages out of the twenty-something I've written in the past few days.

But hey, it was useful. And good! And it did what it was supposed to do. That is, fix the end of the section of the novel that I have been working on for far to long. 

Of course this now means that I am fighting the urge to give into yet another round of revisions 0.0

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Horror Flicks? Really?

So everyone has their own creative process. Proust, for example, spent all day lazing about in bed when he was writing. Another author (I think it was Faulkner?) would lock himself in a room for hours, days, to perfect a single sentence. 

A lot of writers listen to music, or sit in cafes or take nature walks.  All wonderful, lovely, gateways into the creative spirit.


I watch cheesy horror flicks in the middle of the night.

I like music and sidewalk cafes and nature and lord knows I love sleep. And I can write in all of those environments (except maybe sleep) but there's never a breakthrough, an insight into my characters or one of those phrases that you write and all of a sudden you're like 'Hey, that was really good!'

If I got a full nights sleep, woke up at six in the morning, fixed myself a cup of coffee (or tea depending on my mood) and sat down to write, I'd get out a paragraph. A page at most. I know. I've tried it.

But when I'm sleep deprived, at three o'clock in the morning watching some awful creation from the eighties, pure gold. My characters makes sense, my villains (always a constant struggle for me, I'm too picky about them) start to become sympathetic and the plot starts to unfold. (I can't tell you how often I find myself writing with absolutely no idea what's going to happen next.)

It's not so much the timing that's a blow to my ego - I've always been a night owl - but the subject matter. Couldn't I find inspiration watching French Film Noir, or Indie films that don't really make sense but we all pretend they do so people will think we're cool? Why in the world is it cheesy horror flicks?

Seriously, when I'm older, and published (it will happen!) that's just going to be awkward.