Where to start? I’ve fallen back into my habit of writing blog posts either on the computer and never posting them. Or I talk them out in my head as I take a shower. Usually the latter. They’re pretty funny, and I have a chuckle as I rinse the soap out of my hair – and then, yeah, it seems as if I already told that story about the hilarious thing my kids did.
I’ve been writing (I know, imagine that?). I finished the first draft of the project that’s currently holding my attention: 200 pages of complete drivel that I will not allow anyone to read at the moment. It’s a historical romance with paranormal elements. Er… yeah. There’s lots of sex in it too. It’s kind of hot. *wink*
Starting draft two was like letting out a big whoosh of air. I love editing.
God, I can’t believe I wrote that. I certainly didn’t feel that way a few years ago.
Really, though, once I realized that I didn’t write a perfect first draft (snort) it was a freeing experience. For me, my first drafts are about roughing out the story. The second is when I fall in love. I get to dive into the characters and figure out what makes them tick, rewrite scenes to make the language flow, and challenge my original vision.
I’ve made some key changes in my thinking these past few months. I was quite serious when I blogged before about going on a journey to find who I am as a writer. I do think I’m making progress. At least, what I’m doing at the moment feels right. It feels like it’s me tapping into that creative part of my brain, rather than pushing my head against a brick wall.
Although that means that there are times when I’m confused as to where my imagination is taking me. A few days ago I was feeling frazzled with my manuscript so I decided to do a bit of exploratory writing on a new idea. My intention was a third-person contemporary romance – straight up, no frills. My fingers began moving on the keyboard and suddenly I’d written several pages of a first-person, cultural woman’s fiction. Gah.
Whatever, you know? If that’s what comes out, then it does. I’ve decided it’s about the writing this year, allowing myself to write whatever the hell wants to be written. Because no one has to see it. If it makes me happy, that’s all that matters.