Confident or Delusional at Newbie blog

My friend Dan Milstein pointed out this post to me over at the Newbie's Guide to Publishing, about the difference between confident writers and delusional writers. It's a great post and the discussion that follows is worth reading, too.

I hope, of course, that I'm confident writer, not delusional. Though as Konrath points out, delusional writers will not know that they're delusional, so instead will consider themselves confident. So I guess I don't really know. I might be a little bit of both.

the hard part--being still

I'm pretty good at being busy (though I may complain about it at the time). I'll be writing a book, coaching soccer, managing our garden, setting up a writing workshop, managing a couple other groups. For my writing, I might go back and forth between two or three different projects. Some of these projects (especially novels) require steady work over several years, day in and day out.

But sometimes, especially after the long projects are completed, I actually need to force myself to sit still and be quiet. I need to read big piles of novels and plays. I need to refill my creative buckets and actively try not to be so busy for a while. It's not that I don't like doing it--I definitely do--but I get antsy. I've worked hard to be disciplined about writing over the years, so I take my work days pretty seriously and try not to waste time (though blogs and emails don't help). For me, it's comforting to have a definite amount of output every day, pages or words written or revised. I feel like I'm proving to everyone (and myself) that I'm working hard and not a bum (even if I'm not making much money).

Right now though, part of my job for the next month or two is to read, think, pace, refill, and stop being so busy, and to give myself the space and permission to do so. Funny how the things that sound easy can be the hardest.

I Have Not Vanished from the Face of the Earth

Really. I'm still here, but I've been on a freelance project for the past two weeks that is taking up all of my writing time. The money is good, so that's very helpful. I think I've got at least another week to go, maybe a little more, and then it'll be time to get back to my new novel. (My goal of finishing in January doesn't look attainable anymore--maybe February. And somehow I need to get something put together for Monday's Rhombus playwright meeting. Yikes.)

I'm headed to a theatre symposium on Sunday and Monday, nominally about actors and their role in theatre, and I guess I'm supposed to help provide some of the voice of the playwright.

I have a zillion ideas to write about in this blog, once I find a little breathing space (like the unequal role of the playwright in the theatrical collaborative process, the value of looking for quality actors in one's own back yard, and more).

Had a great meeting earlier this week with a few lighting and sound designers, in preparation for a workshop that I'm helping put together with StageSource, called Playwriting in 3D, which will seek to help writers better understand the role and desires of designers when it comes to working on new plays. With any luck it'll happen in April. (More to come about all of this.)

I met a writer yesterday, the sister of a friend, who regularly writes 2,500 words a day. Maybe as many as four books in a year. Wow. Just call me Mr. Glacial. I'm lucky if, when I actually get writing time, I can get through 1,000 words a day, and even then this current book is on its third major tear-down rewrite. I'll just try to accept that we all have different processes.

(In case you're wondering, the worms are thriving, and the garden is still producing greens.)

novel progress: draft complete

Finished up the current rewrite of my new novel this morning. The ending sort of snuck up on me--I'd thought it was going to happen in about 20 more pages, but then suddenly, the characters got themselves to a point where the story just needed to end. It makes me feel a little dizzy, actually.

I'm not quite sure what to make of it. But if I know one thing, it's that endings are definitely not written in stone, and it's pretty likely this one will change, once I start revising.

I've been writing this draft longhand, to try to shake things up, so now I've got about 140 handwritten pages that need to be typed up (editing as I go, of course). I'm curious to see what I've got. I tend to keep pushing ahead all the time when I'm writing a draft like this, so rereading it will feel oddly fresh for me. I've spent a lot of time with these characters, and I'm glad that I'll get to visit with them for a while longer.

My goal is still to have a draft ready to send out by January, though that seems ambitious at the moment. (Especially since this fall is very, very very busy with productions, freelance work, soccer coaching, some travel, etc.) Still, I've got my 5am-6:45am slot every day (which I actually gave up yesterday, in order to do a freelance gig, but I won't do that often).

update: novel progress

Finished Part II of the new novel on Thursday. I'm probably about 250 pages into this current rewrite. I just have one more big section to go and then this draft will be done, and then it'll be time to get back to editing and revising all over again. My early morning schedule has been paying off--I wrote about 100 pages in the past 30 days, 56 in August alone. I just need to keep that up for the next 50-70 pages (I think that's how much I have to go). In my fantasy world, I'll have this novel done and ready to go out by the end of this year (though the fall seems so busy that I'm a little scared).

I'm guessing this week will be all noodling time, planning for Part III, and that's hard to do at 5am, because I'm only half awake, but that's the time I have, so I'd better use it.

Anne Lamott on the process

I'm rereading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, which is awfully helpful (and if you're a writer, I can't recommend it enough), while I'm in the midst of major rewrite #3 and trying not to think about whether this novel will ever be any good.

Here's a quote that seemed just what I think about the process at the moment:

Writing is about hypnotizing yourself into believing in yourself, getting some work done, then unhypnotizing yourself and going over the material coldly. There will be many mistakes, many things to take out and other that need to be added. You just aren't always going to make the right decision.

That pretty much sums it up for me. Right now, I'm desperately trying to stay hypnotized and avoid breaking the spell. Sometimes I feel a little out of it, I have to confess, because my subconscious is whirring away trying to figure out what the hell is coming next in each scene. A fine cold eye is definitely not what I need right now.

Just call me Michael Phelps

The Olympics are always a good writing time for me (if I don’t get sucked too much into watching them), because I find myself thinking: Look at those people. Pure dedication. Constant training and sacrifice. These athletes work in the gym every morning at 7am, then swim in the pool for eight hours a day, or bike a hundred miles, or do flips across a gym mat all day. If they can do that, I can sit down at my desk at 5am every morning and write for a few hours (without complaining). I want to be in the writing Olympics, I want my work widely published and produced, and if that’s going to happen, I’ve got to train like these people.

I’m sure that these two weeks are probably the biggest surge of the year for gym memberships and sales of running shoes (maybe except for New Year’s week). Maybe it’s the same way for the number of pages written in the dark early morning. And like most gym memberships, attendance at the desk will fade off over time (especially once Lost starts coming at at 10pm). But hopefully, for some of us at least, the habits will stick.

(I have manged to write 7 pages in the dark hours in the past two days, by the way.)

Fun blog about writing a novel

Lynn Price on her Behler blog pointed out this very funny blog about the stages of writing a novel. Definitely gave me a good laugh.

progress report--lots of new pages in July

I'm continuing to make solid progress on the rewrite of the new novel. The last two weeks have been particularly productive--I've written 56 new pages, which is just what I was hoping for. Because Noah's been in camp, I've been able to get up at 5am, write until 7am, get him up and walk him to camp, and then write from 9am-11am. Four solid hours is enough to write about five pages of new material, and I've been doing that every weekday for the past two weeks. (In my fantasies, I write this way all year long, which would mean I could write about 1,000 pages in a year. Wouldn't that be nice.)

Unfortunately, today was the last day of camp, so from now until after Labor Day, I'll only have from 5am-7am to write, but if I can keep it up, I'll be able to maintain my momentum. I'll need to keep being strict about no e-mail, no opening the internet browser, and no writing to-do lists until after my writing is done for the day. If I can get write 2 pages a day until school starts, I'll be satisfied.

I'll be joining a bunch of writers at the Playwright Purge, which is an online group that takes the challenge of trying to write something every day for a month. It's a fun group and a good way to stay productive.

Anatomy of a Distraction (or If You Give a Writer a Search Engine...)

Here's why when you're actually trying to get some writing done, you should not open up your web browser. Once the pandora's box is open... Usually I'm really good, but Google Maps shouldn't count, right? I was in the middle of writing a scene set in Eugene, Oregon, and I needed to see a map of the area. No atlas handy to my desk, but the computer is on (though I'm writing by hand). So here's how it goes:

Google map of Eugene. Reminds me that it's not as close to the coast as I thought.

Oh, I think, how odd. There don't seem to be any major cities on the West Coast, between San Francisco and Seattle. This requires a search. In Wikipedia. Turns out there are no good deep water ports that connect to interior agricultural areas. Hence, unlike the East Coast, which is full of cities and harbors, the West Coast is pretty bare.

Which gets me thinking. Hey, wouldn't that be a cool bike ride. Ride along the coastal highway, no big cities. Which leads me to find a blog about a guy who blogged about biking the Oregon coast in 2006. Sounds fun. Turns out it's a pretty busy road, because so many tourists think it's beautiful.

And I get to thinking about big long trips, and his blog just happens to mention hobobiker.com, which is a blog by a couple who are bicycling from the top of Canada to the tip of Patagonia. They started in June 2006, and now they're in Peru, having ridden more than 12,000 miles.

I've always had a fascination with long journeys on foot (hence my novel Tornado Siren) or by bike or by canoe. So far, I haven't gotten very far on my bike, but maybe later this summer or next year... Paddling the length of a major river has great appeal. Mississippi anyone? The Charles is close by and short, I guess I could start there. So many possibilities.

All of this led to considerable daydreaming and not prodigious writing, until I got the stupid browser closed. I promise myself I'll be strong (though a little refresher research on gravitational attraction just happened to lead to Einstein's special relativity, which then led to Kepler's Problem, and I'm interested in anything about Kepler, so...)

Clarification on Yesterday's Numbers, With Thanks to Wendyll Berry

I finished re-reading Wendyll Berry's The Hidden Wound last night, which really got me thinking. Toward the end of the book, he wrote:

"I realized that the culture I needed was not be found visiting museums and libraries and auditoriums. It occurred to me that there was another measure for my life than the amount or even the quality of the writing that I did; a man, I thought, must be judged by how willingly and meaningfully he can be present where he is, by how fully he can make himself at home in his part of the world."

Which made my list from yesterday seem not quite as important (though I'm still a numbers fiend, and I'm afraid I just can't shake it). Mr. Berry reminded me of all the things I left out about what I did in my 30s. The numbers might useful to a student of writing, I suppose, to see that it's possible, over the course of ten years to write a substantial number of pages, mail them out countless times, and get scripts mounted on stage and novels published. These are good things to know.

What I left out, oddly, was how grateful I am for the chance to write each of my plays, novels, and screenplays. Mostly this was possible because my wife had jobs that provided us enough income to live, while I stayed home and took care of the kids. I wrote about the things that I most needed to write about, and that's lucky, too. I wrote about faith, friendship, race, moving, love. Nothing I wrote was perfect, but it all helped me improve as a writer. (Note to students: improving as a writer does not mean that it suddenly becomes easier. It only means that I now have tools to tackle projects that weren't possible before, and barely seem possible now.)

I also left out the fact that I did a lot of things, other than writing, that informed my writing and who I am. I worked with my hands a lot--fixing up houses, laying pathways, digging gardens. I raised children and cooked dinners and dumped other people's garbage.

Wendyll Berry has me thinking a lot about community these days. I'm new to my town, so I'm still finding my way. I'm not sure how writing fits into everything, but I know these thoughts will be a part of what I write in the future.


P.S. Shame on Brookline Booksmith and the Brookline Barnes & Noble for not having The Hidden Wound in stock last night. It really is a must-read.

Excuses, Excuses

We've had out-of-town guests for nearly a week, which is always a good excuse avoid getting some writing done. On Monday, I didn't write anything, even though I probably could have found a little time. I've got a nice little routine of working on my new novel while the kids are gone at school in the morning, but I'm used to doing it alone in the house, and I feel oddly exposed when there is someone else here (even though I can write just fine in the library or a crowded coffee shop).

Yesterday and today, I finally got over it and spent some time making the revisions that I need. I plugged my headphones into the computer, and listened to the same damn twenty-song set that I've been listening to for months while working on this book. I didn't even plan to get any writing done; I'd written the day off entirely. But this music has become such a part of my writing routine, that listening to it right there at the computer put me right in the mood to get to work.

I figured I'd put in 30 minutes, but I wrote for more than an hour, and got a whole new scene, plus more revisions. That's the good thing about building a writing habit or routine, I guess. It takes effort to create it, but once it's in place, it can help save you from yourself.