wherein Liz considers "Secrets"
I'm rereading "Secrets" so as to get back the feel and headspace of the story.
I'd forgotten how long it is: 110,000 words posted so far, nearly 10,000 in the still-unfinished chapter 12, and chapters 13-15 still to go. I just go on and on and on and ye gods, I spend such a lot of time doing tight-focus on Ginny's often rambling thought processes, and going off on atmospheric tangents.
Also, you can kind of tell I wrote this in fits and starts over the past six years. The tone is... not consistent enough for my taste. It starts out as an attempt to mimic JKR -- not a very good attempt, of course, since I'm not that great a mimic and my natural writing style and focus is rather different from hers -- but then it goes very dark and bleak and internal. And to some extent that's a natural consequence of the story, but on the other hand, I keep trying to walk a line between Ginny's internal world and her external world, and they don't match. At all.
Then I think, well, that's how depression is. And "Secrets" started (subconsciously on my part) as a way to work out some of my own issues over my own depression and social isolation. I didn't realize that until chapter 5, and to be honest, I often wish I'd never realized that -- it's not always good to examine the creative process too closely -- but it's at the heart of the story. I'm trying to write about isolation and ethics and why people need to work together, because alone you just drown.
...
If I were starting "Secrets" over again today, it would be a much shorter story. But what's done is done, and I'm going to continue it the way I started (more or less), and finally be able to shut the door on that era of my writing and say that by god, I finished a door-stopper.
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In real life news, I took a bunch of stuff to church this evening and donated it to the annual recycling sale. I will be back there again on the 22nd, helping sort and set up more donations.
I'd forgotten how long it is: 110,000 words posted so far, nearly 10,000 in the still-unfinished chapter 12, and chapters 13-15 still to go. I just go on and on and on and ye gods, I spend such a lot of time doing tight-focus on Ginny's often rambling thought processes, and going off on atmospheric tangents.
Also, you can kind of tell I wrote this in fits and starts over the past six years. The tone is... not consistent enough for my taste. It starts out as an attempt to mimic JKR -- not a very good attempt, of course, since I'm not that great a mimic and my natural writing style and focus is rather different from hers -- but then it goes very dark and bleak and internal. And to some extent that's a natural consequence of the story, but on the other hand, I keep trying to walk a line between Ginny's internal world and her external world, and they don't match. At all.
Then I think, well, that's how depression is. And "Secrets" started (subconsciously on my part) as a way to work out some of my own issues over my own depression and social isolation. I didn't realize that until chapter 5, and to be honest, I often wish I'd never realized that -- it's not always good to examine the creative process too closely -- but it's at the heart of the story. I'm trying to write about isolation and ethics and why people need to work together, because alone you just drown.
...
If I were starting "Secrets" over again today, it would be a much shorter story. But what's done is done, and I'm going to continue it the way I started (more or less), and finally be able to shut the door on that era of my writing and say that by god, I finished a door-stopper.
---------------
In real life news, I took a bunch of stuff to church this evening and donated it to the annual recycling sale. I will be back there again on the 22nd, helping sort and set up more donations.