I feel a distinct lack-of-connectedness with everything.
There’s a vague desperation localized somewhere between my chest and my stomach.
There’s also this mental dropping sensation.
I am falling apart and I have no one to hold me together… just me. It’s empowering and horrifying at the same time.
I want to be a grown up, and to grow up.
I want to prove myself, to myself.
I want writing to save me.
I want to mark this planet before I die.
I want to be loved.
I want to cry the way I need to but I can’t.
… I should be writing.
Last month’s experiment served to show me that I am desperately in need of MOAR STRUCTURE!1!!
“Organically” and “without intentions” did not work particularly well—although it did work slightly better than my previous (and arbitrarily chosen) aim of 1000words/day.
Also, it has recently come to my attention that writing 1000words of fiction/day, consistently, is not actually considered to be as achievable as I first (arbitrarily) assumed. And not just for me: I read some professional writer blogs about it and everything.
So… new (arbitrary) goals!
- Write every day (something, anything).
- Ideally, 500 words per day minimum.
- Begin a draft of Found Objects: a faery story.
- Continue Cannibal Anthems (piece by piece, I will finish this).
Moving (arbitrarily) forward… (arbitrarily… O_o).
- Whatever the fuck I want. <— I don’t think it’s technically possible to have FAILED that one…
- Try to write something, sometime. <— 6/30days, no fiction. Also not technically possible to have FAILED that one.
I did manage to find an outline method that seems promising enough.
(Those that have been paying attention—or who read my previous post—are saying “But I thought you never use outlines?!” to which I reply, “Yeah, and that’s been working out so well for me…”)
I won’t be using it “as is.” I’m eviscerating and restructuring the basics to suit my purposes but I’m about 900words in on that, which seems good enough to start.
The most useful part of the article was this bit of advice:
Mark Teppo told us that if you get stuck while outlining, often around chapter 12, simply write “sex”. The chapter after that is, “things get worse.” and move on.
because now I know that it isn’t that my characters are sluts, it’s just that they want me to not be miserable with nothing to write about and they’re trying to help. Or something.
And, in Real Life News:
- Job: Got a call-back. I might be a cashier again soon. Money is money and it’s better than nothing. (Clearly, I’m excited.)
- New Mexico: Still a plan.
- School: Also still a plan.
- Hair: Red (because I despised blonde on me).
- Montana: It isn’t supposed to snow in Spring. Also, Whyyyyyy?!