To the 1.5 people who read this blog (0.5 is for the person who stumbled upon here accidentally – ‘sup?) and the 300 spammers, I thought it was about time I gave a bit of an update on my writing. The update is there isn’t one. Sort of.
Things have been ticking along at a steady pace with editing Book One, which I pushed pause on at the start of November to try my hand at NaNoWriMo. Yep, for once I actually bit the bullet and committed myself to writing 50k words of a first draft in a month, which is roughly half the length of a full commercial women’s fiction manuscript, the genre I write in.
It was lovely/stressful/thrilling/tiring/wine-inducing month, which saw me yoyo-ing from sleep deprivation and a persistent twitchy left eye, as I tried to fit in the minimum 1,667 words per day around The Day Job. Had I not spent two weeks prior to this planning out a basic outline for Book Two and getting to know the characters, I might have found myself rocking in a corner by day three. (Quick tip: Plan, plan, PLAN as much as you can before starting NaNo. Trust me!)
The result? I actually did it, cue the confetti! I hit the target, which obviously called for some obligatory Beyonce moves around the apartment, but I was so dog-tired by the end of it I could barely raise an eyelid let alone the roof. Still, it was quite an achievement in my world and one that set me on a path to try and finish the draft ASAP. As of today, I have less than 10k words to go and I should be hopefully finished by the end of this coming month. Bring on all those Easter eggs!
Then it’ll back to editing and polishing Book One and working on my query to start submitting to agents. This is when the shit starts to really get real. It’ll no longer just be me and my laptop facing off day-after-day, navigating our way through these fictional worlds alone. It’ll be me putting myself out into the world to be read by the profesh ones. The peeps who say yay or nay, or worse, don’t say anything at all. While I’m not exactly fizzing with excitement about this part of the process, it doesn’t change the fact that it has to happen. One way or another, my baby has to fly. And if it doesn’t reach its destination, or falls flat on its tush, then there’ll be other chances with Book Two and Book Three and Book Four and so on.
“To write fiction – to create art of any kind – you have to open yourself up to feeling emotion in uninhibited, unrestrained ways. Without embarrassment. Exuberantly, passionately, absolutely vulnerably. How frightening! And yet, to do this, to write well, you have to inhabit those emotions without consideration of risk or danger. Without fear.”
Amen to that, sister!