RAGING EGOMANIAC MEET NADIR OF SELF ESTEEM (or writing advice # 30 Eleven) and a bit of news
So yesterday I was convinced that the new WIP (Deacon Chalk:Occult Bounty-Hunter book 2) is complete crap.
Which is a terrible thing to realize halfway through a first draft when the finished version is due in (Yikes!) only THREE MONTHS! This stemmed from an issue of Writer's magazine I picked up that had an excellent article on well-crafted sentences. I read that, absorbing some of the most powerful words strung together to paint beautiful imagery, and my self-esteem as a writer crashed.
Watching the second Weeping Angels episode of the Eleventh Doctor series of Doctor Who didn't help either. ("I made him say comfy chairs." Stephen Moffet you kill me.)
I suck. My words are tripe. I suck. I use the most boring words invented in this language over and over in repetitive run on sentences that mean nothing and evoke no emotion.
I suck at writing.
That was yesterday.
Today I sat to write, because, sucking or not the damn manuscript must be finished. Rereading the previous chapters revealed something to me. It wasn't bad. In fact, it was good. I need to toss some more action in there, I think the middle has a bit too much down time, but I may be a tad tunnel-visioned. But the next half of the book will be more non-stop action. Nonetheless, my word-craft wasn't bad. I may not be a Cormac Mccarthy, but no one is except him. I think most readers will enjoy what I have written, especially after revisions set in. I love revisions. Revision is writing, but that is another blog post altogether.
The point here is that when your writer self esteem plummets, just quit.
You heard me.
Quit.
Walk away.....for a day or so. Read something, take the rest of the day off, whatever.
When you come back, you will find that your writing isn't all that sucktastic after all.
Now onto news:
I have a short story: HE STOPPED LOVING HER TODAY in with my editor to see if he can find a home for it. It's a Walking Dead-style tragic love story with zombies. It's really short, but hopefully he can place it somewhere. I would love to get some short stories in place to build the name and the Deacon Chalk series. (Out next year from Kensington Publishing). No this isn't a Deacon short, but any story will get more recognition.
In Deacon news I did have a flash of inspiration on the ride in to the tattoo shop this morning. Now I have a short story involving more were-spider goodness, a stripper, an assassin, and some good old violence to write that hopefully I can drop into an anthology somewhere.
Keep on writing your story my friends, you make you own happy endings. (get your mind out of the gutter kids).
Which is a terrible thing to realize halfway through a first draft when the finished version is due in (Yikes!) only THREE MONTHS! This stemmed from an issue of Writer's magazine I picked up that had an excellent article on well-crafted sentences. I read that, absorbing some of the most powerful words strung together to paint beautiful imagery, and my self-esteem as a writer crashed.
Watching the second Weeping Angels episode of the Eleventh Doctor series of Doctor Who didn't help either. ("I made him say comfy chairs." Stephen Moffet you kill me.)
I suck. My words are tripe. I suck. I use the most boring words invented in this language over and over in repetitive run on sentences that mean nothing and evoke no emotion.
I suck at writing.
That was yesterday.
Today I sat to write, because, sucking or not the damn manuscript must be finished. Rereading the previous chapters revealed something to me. It wasn't bad. In fact, it was good. I need to toss some more action in there, I think the middle has a bit too much down time, but I may be a tad tunnel-visioned. But the next half of the book will be more non-stop action. Nonetheless, my word-craft wasn't bad. I may not be a Cormac Mccarthy, but no one is except him. I think most readers will enjoy what I have written, especially after revisions set in. I love revisions. Revision is writing, but that is another blog post altogether.
The point here is that when your writer self esteem plummets, just quit.
You heard me.
Quit.
Walk away.....for a day or so. Read something, take the rest of the day off, whatever.
When you come back, you will find that your writing isn't all that sucktastic after all.
Now onto news:
I have a short story: HE STOPPED LOVING HER TODAY in with my editor to see if he can find a home for it. It's a Walking Dead-style tragic love story with zombies. It's really short, but hopefully he can place it somewhere. I would love to get some short stories in place to build the name and the Deacon Chalk series. (Out next year from Kensington Publishing). No this isn't a Deacon short, but any story will get more recognition.
In Deacon news I did have a flash of inspiration on the ride in to the tattoo shop this morning. Now I have a short story involving more were-spider goodness, a stripper, an assassin, and some good old violence to write that hopefully I can drop into an anthology somewhere.
Keep on writing your story my friends, you make you own happy endings. (get your mind out of the gutter kids).