Rivers til I reach you...
I should report on World Fantasy. I should, but I feel like other than "I went, I received my Big Bag of Books (tm), I saw friends, I hung out, I bought books, I ate a lot," there isn't all that much to report. I saw Connie Willis and Neil Gaiman and other notable writers that I don't know personally, and they were wonderful public speakers, and I enjoyed listening to them. But I didn't speak to them at parties. I had a shy introvert's party time, where I spoke almost exclusively to people I already know, because I know them and feel more comfortable with them. The few people I spoke with whom I didn't already know, it was because they were with people I know and invited me to join the conversation. I was not at all comfortable at this convention inviting myself into conversations. Sometimes that's just the way it is with me. I'm trying not to be hard on myself about this. I am the introvert who longs to be an extrovert, and can even play one (on tv) from time to time. But at heart, I'm the shy person in the corner who is doesn't want to impose, and is pretty sure you're all busy and important and not much interested in what she would have to say.
Not news to most of anyone who reads this blog, I'm sure.
I have to remind myself that it's OK to be introverted, and that it's OK to not want to impose, and to just listen to other people talk. And also that whatever I might have to say is probably not as awful as I think it is, and that those people who are busy and engaged are nice people who would listen if I bothered to speak. But it's OK not to speak, too.
Other than that, the weather was lovely, and I really enjoyed visiting it. And it was nice to see friends, many of whom are local or at least northwest, that I don't see regularly. Why we don't get together more is probably a function of people having lives or something ridiculous like that. We talked about that a lot - "why don't we see each other more often? Gosh, everyone is so busy. We should do something about that. " Etc. Perhaps we will do something about it. That will probably take planning though, and everyone is pretty caught up planning everything else. Someday.
On the writing front, I did reach my goal of 25,000 words before WFC. In fact, I was at over 26,000 words, even though the scene I thought I'd be finished with wasn't finished. It ... still isn't finished. I think I have 3000 more words in the notebook on this scene. It's a ... really important scene. And I'm not exactly sure where it, er, ends. I know what comes next, I'm just not sure where I'm going to stop this scene. Exactly. The forest is on fire, there may or may not be bad people coming, two bit players are dead for certain and others are sorely injured, and we all have to escape in the wagon. Or ... do we all have to escape? I think someone's getting left behind. It remains to be seen whose idea that is, and if it's voluntary or reckless abandonment, ish, with wailing and gnashing of teeth when that's discovered. I can't decide which I like better. I have to decide which grows which character ... better. Better in terms of story, that is.
So the goal for the end of this month is 35 - 40,000 words in the computer. I'm not a nanowrimo person, it's just not my thing, but I can commit to 10-15 grand of words in a month without wanting to cry, since that's about what I did last month. I may work my way up to higher word counts at some point in my life, but I'm not going to bang my head on that wall yet. 10-15 grand is a huge improvement over where I was last year, so I'm taking it as a win that I can even contemplate it. Go me.
So off I am to write. Pen on paper, scratching and crossing out and hand-cramping my way to manuscript. Hit it.
Not news to most of anyone who reads this blog, I'm sure.
I have to remind myself that it's OK to be introverted, and that it's OK to not want to impose, and to just listen to other people talk. And also that whatever I might have to say is probably not as awful as I think it is, and that those people who are busy and engaged are nice people who would listen if I bothered to speak. But it's OK not to speak, too.
Other than that, the weather was lovely, and I really enjoyed visiting it. And it was nice to see friends, many of whom are local or at least northwest, that I don't see regularly. Why we don't get together more is probably a function of people having lives or something ridiculous like that. We talked about that a lot - "why don't we see each other more often? Gosh, everyone is so busy. We should do something about that. " Etc. Perhaps we will do something about it. That will probably take planning though, and everyone is pretty caught up planning everything else. Someday.
On the writing front, I did reach my goal of 25,000 words before WFC. In fact, I was at over 26,000 words, even though the scene I thought I'd be finished with wasn't finished. It ... still isn't finished. I think I have 3000 more words in the notebook on this scene. It's a ... really important scene. And I'm not exactly sure where it, er, ends. I know what comes next, I'm just not sure where I'm going to stop this scene. Exactly. The forest is on fire, there may or may not be bad people coming, two bit players are dead for certain and others are sorely injured, and we all have to escape in the wagon. Or ... do we all have to escape? I think someone's getting left behind. It remains to be seen whose idea that is, and if it's voluntary or reckless abandonment, ish, with wailing and gnashing of teeth when that's discovered. I can't decide which I like better. I have to decide which grows which character ... better. Better in terms of story, that is.
So the goal for the end of this month is 35 - 40,000 words in the computer. I'm not a nanowrimo person, it's just not my thing, but I can commit to 10-15 grand of words in a month without wanting to cry, since that's about what I did last month. I may work my way up to higher word counts at some point in my life, but I'm not going to bang my head on that wall yet. 10-15 grand is a huge improvement over where I was last year, so I'm taking it as a win that I can even contemplate it. Go me.
So off I am to write. Pen on paper, scratching and crossing out and hand-cramping my way to manuscript. Hit it.