Monday, December 13, 2010


I’m at that stage: the finish-the-damn-book-before-it-kills-me stage. And I don’t have much time to finish this draft since I want it done by the time my in-laws visit in a week.

We all have our process. I think when writers talk about their process it causes mass confusion. Why? Because (and I'm chronically guilty of this) it makes the reader say: Hey, that sounds cool! I want to try that.

You know what? It never works out, at least for me. Because it’s their process, not mine. Tips and tricks, fine. Process, not so much. I don’t change my stripes very well.

What works for me? The finish-the-damn-book-before-it-kills-me draft. I toil in agony for the better part of a month or two. I have to “find” the book and introduce myself to the characters. Some books are easier than others. I envy people who can bang out a rough without blinking. Man!

For me, there comes a moment of clarity (usually about the 30K mark). Where I think: Hi there, sexy! Where did you come from? Can we make out?

And then it’s love.

Apparently, I don’t believe in love at first sight. Who knew? Oh, right. Me.

Once I fall in love, I can slam that baby out. Meaning: I chain myself to my computer and put in the work (not to be confused with just putting down whatever). Yesterday I spent so much time on the computer writing that I had a backache this morning. Geez. I associate that feeling with my muse (what does that say about me?).

I may not be posting, but I am working. It’s something, peeps! And I take my sparkles and purple ponies when I can.


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