One day as you’re sitting down to dinner someone knocks on the door. When you answer they look really familiar, but you can’t place them. This person claims to have been there for every major life event you’ve ever had, and they’re afraid of what the next one will do to you. How do you respond?
“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.”
Yesterday I put four works in progress (WIPs) to bed. Each WIP was at one time an inspired piece.
Rise of the Dragon’s Daughter started when I was sitting in a doorway of my high school waiting for my SAT math prep class to start. Eventually, it grew into my main work, with me finishing a draft of the first book in the series, or so I thought, my senior year of high school. I was urged to just edit for grammar, spelling and self-publish. I’m so glad that I didn’t do that like I had originally wanted to. As I went back over it for revision I figured out that there was a lot about the story itself that wasn’t sitting right for me. I’d told the wrong story. Now, after three years of revision work on the first third of the book, I need to step away. I’m not touching that manuscript again, I think for at least a year. It’s for the best.
Song of the Traitor King I’m putting this to rest for good. This project has lost my interest and is just… done, but not in a good place done. I might use pieces of it elsewhere, or I might come back to it in a decade and see something new and start with a new piece based off of this one.
Dear… So this one is just shelved until I’ve had some experience outside the classroom to work with.
The Forest, a T.V. Series Script. I’m not sure why I started this one… a prompt I think and then I got excited about it… and then I got unexcited about it. I think this one needs some distance as well, just to figure out what the actual plot is. I have a setting, but no plot… and that is not a great problem to have. Without a plot you have no story and right now my plot is only a setting.
So here’s the thing. I’m putting all of these to rest. I think I want to work on some short stories for a while, see if I can’t publish some of them. Of course, I need to start said stories. I have started a new storyboard on Pinterest, we’ll see where that goes, but that looks like it would/will be a longer work and I’m not sure I’m at a place in my craft right now that I want to start writing that long of a piece just yet.
And while I’m putting these things to rest, I’ve come to a decision. I have to get out of the classroom if I’m ever going to write anything. My professor said that in class Tuesday and it’s been nagging me. I have to read, and I have to live, I have to do things. So…
I’m not going to graduate school this fall.
You don’t write because you want to say something. You write because you have something to say. – F. Scott Fitzgerald
I should be doing homework… but I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Two weeks ago was Spring Break. The weekend going into spring break I had to call off two days of work and I missed my Friday class because I couldn’t stop coughing. I had the fever, cold chills, aches and pains, and headaches you wouldn’t believe.
Now, I have woken with a sore, feels like it was swollen when I woke up, throat, ear aches, general aches and pains, and a low-grade fever. Luckily, my lungs don’t seem to be affected this time around. I’m really hoping it’s not the flu and it’s just a cold. I’m taking medicine and praying… a lot. Neither my grades nor my paycheck can afford this again.
The biggest issue is figuring out which aches and pains are illness and which are the normal aches and pains from being out of shape and leading a sedentary lifestyle… I’m a writer, it’s a working hazard.
In short, I’m a big baby and I hate being sick. I’m drinking an orange juice and sprite cocktail because vitamin C, the carbonation is kind of turning my stomach, but it’s helping the sore throat.
Hey, if you’re sick, why are you even writing this?
Well, helpful voice inside my head that I totally just used to change the subject, I’m writing this because I’ve written on this blog for two days in a row already and it feels good to do this. Cathartic.
It’s nice writing something that isn’t for school but isn’t just for me. It’s becoming part of my everyday routine. That’s something I’m finding I need more and more. Maybe at some point I’ll get some of my real writing in on that too. It helps to keep the depression at bay.
I guess I’m just having a day and allowing myself to indulge whatever whims I have. But I have homework so… I guess that’s enough for today. Maybe I need a nap.