Mental blocks are mental
So writing.
Yeah.
For the first couple of months, I was cruising right along. Got to 50,000 words pounded out without trying. Got the outline pinned down. Had a file of character histories and backgrounds. Had names on everyone, which is a huge step forward for me. Naming ... not my strong point. Knew where they was going and how we were getting there and how everyone changed during the trip. Even had a first cut of the second story's outline written. It felt good.
Then it stopped. I mean, really stopped.
I knew what I had to write. I knew what each scene had to accomplish.
I couldn't do it to save my ass. Everything I typed just didn't work. The characters weren't IN character. The action scenes lacked tension, movement and, well, action. The dialog read like something out of a grade school play.
I figured, eh, it can't always be easy. I started editing what I already had. Figured I might as well spend the time doing something useful while I waited for inspiration to strike again.
*Insert three months of nothing but editing here*
Yeah, so inspiration? Wasn't in a striking mood. I got to the point where I couldn't read certain sections anymore. I had edited them so many times that my mind was filling in what used to be there, instead of what was currently on the page. I'm pretty sure I actively hate a couple of the chapters, even though I know they are no worse than any of the others. Editing became really, REALLY frustrating.
Then the word count started getting to me. You know, the little tag down in the bottom left in MS Word that tells you how many words are in the file? It started ... taunting me. I'd write and write and edit and write but it never made progress. I couldn't break an honest 60,000. Sure, I'd get up above it briefly, only to yank an entire chapter due to the suckage it contained. I'd spend hours in the evening rewriting, only to have that damn counter smugly sitting at 59,600.
Do you know what numbers do to a trained mathematician? I mean, writing is supposed to be WORDS. I don't need numbers when I'm writing. I don't want numbers when I'm writing. Numbers click on a whole other section of my brain that I'm trying to turn off when I'm not at work. Heck, I steadfastly refuse to use the numerical representation of numbers when I write. I spell everything out alphabetically. Otherwise, my brain goes "ooo...what's that for?" and the analytical side of my head fires up and it's NOT HELPING.
After a month of that, I seriously considered just chucking the whole damn thing. I mean, it was supposed to be fun and relaxing and not cause me to tear hair out, right? I have the day job and the art business if I want to be bald.
Earlier this week, though, something happened. I started writing a necessary scene for the tenth time. I got halfway done with it and decided it was complete and utter crap. And then I finished it.
And I left it in the file.
Then I went to another scene that had been escaping me and I did the same thing.
Now, I'm well past the cursed 60,000 mark and the story is moving again. I know I'll have to edit the hell out of those sections to make them passable. And that's okay. They are doing their job to move the story along and it's not like I won't want to edit this thing over and over again anyways before I show it to anyone as a whole story. I'm obsessive. That's what I do.
And now that I'm reading over them again, well, they really aren't that bad. They need work but not as much as some of the earlier stuff did.
Moral of the story?
Write.
Even it it sucks, write it and leave it in there. You can always figure out what isn't working later but you can't edit a blank page.
And turn the fucking word count thing off.
Yeah.
For the first couple of months, I was cruising right along. Got to 50,000 words pounded out without trying. Got the outline pinned down. Had a file of character histories and backgrounds. Had names on everyone, which is a huge step forward for me. Naming ... not my strong point. Knew where they was going and how we were getting there and how everyone changed during the trip. Even had a first cut of the second story's outline written. It felt good.
Then it stopped. I mean, really stopped.
I knew what I had to write. I knew what each scene had to accomplish.
I couldn't do it to save my ass. Everything I typed just didn't work. The characters weren't IN character. The action scenes lacked tension, movement and, well, action. The dialog read like something out of a grade school play.
I figured, eh, it can't always be easy. I started editing what I already had. Figured I might as well spend the time doing something useful while I waited for inspiration to strike again.
*Insert three months of nothing but editing here*
Yeah, so inspiration? Wasn't in a striking mood. I got to the point where I couldn't read certain sections anymore. I had edited them so many times that my mind was filling in what used to be there, instead of what was currently on the page. I'm pretty sure I actively hate a couple of the chapters, even though I know they are no worse than any of the others. Editing became really, REALLY frustrating.
Then the word count started getting to me. You know, the little tag down in the bottom left in MS Word that tells you how many words are in the file? It started ... taunting me. I'd write and write and edit and write but it never made progress. I couldn't break an honest 60,000. Sure, I'd get up above it briefly, only to yank an entire chapter due to the suckage it contained. I'd spend hours in the evening rewriting, only to have that damn counter smugly sitting at 59,600.
Do you know what numbers do to a trained mathematician? I mean, writing is supposed to be WORDS. I don't need numbers when I'm writing. I don't want numbers when I'm writing. Numbers click on a whole other section of my brain that I'm trying to turn off when I'm not at work. Heck, I steadfastly refuse to use the numerical representation of numbers when I write. I spell everything out alphabetically. Otherwise, my brain goes "ooo...what's that for?" and the analytical side of my head fires up and it's NOT HELPING.
After a month of that, I seriously considered just chucking the whole damn thing. I mean, it was supposed to be fun and relaxing and not cause me to tear hair out, right? I have the day job and the art business if I want to be bald.
Earlier this week, though, something happened. I started writing a necessary scene for the tenth time. I got halfway done with it and decided it was complete and utter crap. And then I finished it.
And I left it in the file.
Then I went to another scene that had been escaping me and I did the same thing.
Now, I'm well past the cursed 60,000 mark and the story is moving again. I know I'll have to edit the hell out of those sections to make them passable. And that's okay. They are doing their job to move the story along and it's not like I won't want to edit this thing over and over again anyways before I show it to anyone as a whole story. I'm obsessive. That's what I do.
And now that I'm reading over them again, well, they really aren't that bad. They need work but not as much as some of the earlier stuff did.
Moral of the story?
Write.
Even it it sucks, write it and leave it in there. You can always figure out what isn't working later but you can't edit a blank page.
And turn the fucking word count thing off.