Meandering thoughts
I woke up this morning and decided I was going to finish the outline of my novel, even if it meant I got nothing else done today. That's pretty much what happened: I got the dishes washed, took out the trash, and cooked for for the next few days, but none of the laundry got done or anything else on my list. But the outline is done.
I guess having an outline is a good thing, because now I can start writing. Maybe. I have discovered that I am the kind of writer who needs readers, and I'm not convinced I'll have any beyond my alpha and beta readers. I had readers for L5R because I had a captive audience. I've shown my non-L5R story, the one I'm shopping around, to seven friends, and of them two of them really liked it, one of them kind of liked it (I think?), one didn't like it (but admitted it wasn't his preferred genre), and three never told me what they thought of it, from which I deduce that they didn't like it at all and are taking the diplomatic way out. These are not great odds.
If I had spent the day cleaning I would have had something to show for my efforts: a cleaner home. This is widely considered praiseworthy behavior. I would rather write than clean, but if there is one thing my life has taught me, it's that my opinions and desires don't matter.
I am tired, and that doesn't make sense. I sat at my desk all day, and finishing the outline wasn't like trying to compose War and Peace. I need to get to bed regardless, because tomorrow is a work day and then I need to come home and get some of the cleaning done. At some point I'll have to talk myself into starting writing, but that pint is not now.
I guess having an outline is a good thing, because now I can start writing. Maybe. I have discovered that I am the kind of writer who needs readers, and I'm not convinced I'll have any beyond my alpha and beta readers. I had readers for L5R because I had a captive audience. I've shown my non-L5R story, the one I'm shopping around, to seven friends, and of them two of them really liked it, one of them kind of liked it (I think?), one didn't like it (but admitted it wasn't his preferred genre), and three never told me what they thought of it, from which I deduce that they didn't like it at all and are taking the diplomatic way out. These are not great odds.
If I had spent the day cleaning I would have had something to show for my efforts: a cleaner home. This is widely considered praiseworthy behavior. I would rather write than clean, but if there is one thing my life has taught me, it's that my opinions and desires don't matter.
I am tired, and that doesn't make sense. I sat at my desk all day, and finishing the outline wasn't like trying to compose War and Peace. I need to get to bed regardless, because tomorrow is a work day and then I need to come home and get some of the cleaning done. At some point I'll have to talk myself into starting writing, but that pint is not now.