A holiday, you say?
Last week I finished my first draft. It really wasn't anything to celebrate, I roughed out the last couple of chapters as fast as I could just to get it done. I hate it. I'd like a second opinion, but on the other hand I half arsed the last little bit so I know it's bad. The best I can do is try and forget about it for a while, and think of other things.
Novels are big. Life is short. I feel obligated to write as fast as I can, to justify the life I lead, but I feel I'm not going to do my best work that way. I need to stop and think. So, I'm trying that right now. I haven't sat down to brainstorm, although I've been doing a bit of contemplative staring at the sky.
I want to write something good, someday.
So I'm trying for some creative boredom. I don't bore easily, especially with the internet at my disposal, but I'll try. It's important to let the earth lie fallow for a while.
Novels are big. Life is short. I feel obligated to write as fast as I can, to justify the life I lead, but I feel I'm not going to do my best work that way. I need to stop and think. So, I'm trying that right now. I haven't sat down to brainstorm, although I've been doing a bit of contemplative staring at the sky.
I want to write something good, someday.
So I'm trying for some creative boredom. I don't bore easily, especially with the internet at my disposal, but I'll try. It's important to let the earth lie fallow for a while.