what fresh hell…

I sat down today to start writing–facing, mind you, draft #5 of this book, which has not yet broken 300 pages–stared at the computer for about ten minutes, and got up and left again. Went downtown and bought a rather spiffy hardback blank book and two reasonably decent pens, and came home again to begin writing. I am going to write as much of this book as is necessary by hand, because I don’t seem to be able to sit down at the computer and not try to work in old material, and while I know some of it is salvageable, I have got to face this book with as fresh and clear a head as I can. I absolutely do not seem to be able to do that at the computer.

I got 9 pages written, which is, I think, about 2000 words, give or take. Combined with the bit that I know is salvageable from chapter two–yes, chapter two; I screwed the book up that early, and it needs to be fixed from there on out–it’s certainly a chapter’s worth of text. I have to figure out a bit to make the beginning of the next chapter work, but that’s a job for tomorrow. At this point I don’t care if the book comes in short (it’s supposed to be 500 pages. I’ll be happy to get 400). I just need to do *something* to get a draft done, and if that means handwriting an entire novel, then okay, that’s what I’ll do. *Anything* to break out of this rut, which is just absolutely dragging me down.

This is a locked post because the world at large probably doesn’t need to know just how completely exhausted I am by writing this series, but since virtually everybody I have friended is either someone I know IRL or have known for a long, long time online, I figure you guys can bear up under listening to me snivel.

Off to yoga now. Perhaps I’ll be less snively later.

15 thoughts on “what fresh hell…

  1. As I said to someone else this morning (in a different context) that’s what friends are for. Shoulders and ears always on standby.

  2. I’ve found many times that a change of scenery or working method can help one break out of a rut. Half of my master’s thesis, after I got well and thoroughly sick of the thing, was written in the park on a Palm Pilot. One does what one must.

    Sounds like you’ve made a good choice. Hang in there.

  3. I have had to switch my method of writing twice. And I need to find something to kick me in the butt again now. So I feel your pain, don’t mind playing shoulder. What they said.

  4. *hugs* I’m amazed that thing sort of thing doesn’t happen to you more often, you mortal, you.

    And if it makes you feel even the tiniest bit better, I’ve been feeling snively for days. As in, not showering, not eating much, breaking into overflowing tears (I think I’m at 4 major outbursts today, and it’s only mid-afternoon), and the like.

  5. Yes, but you broke your arm in like SEVENTEEN PLACES. You *deserve* to be snively! *hugs and hugs*!

  6. Well, I have seventeen screws in there, but I’m pretty sure I have an at least somewhat lesser number of bone fragments and breaks. I am, however, awfully tired of being on this sort of emotional roller coaster, and I’m pretty sure Greg’s getting sick of it too–which doesn’t make me feel ANY better whatsoever. I don’t /hurt/ all that much, most of the time, but I feel like I’ve got constant PMS.

    I miss doing massage. I miss yoga. I miss my friggin’ SANITY.

    But thank you. I very, very, VERY much needed the hugs. Oh, look, more tears. *rolls eyes at self* I’m gonna go take my nap now.

  7. Seeing as I gave up about two pages through a document yesterday (and they were the easy pages) I feel a teeny-tiny sliver of your pain. And this thing isn’t even making me have to write creatively, it’s just assembling what I already know into easier language…

    But anyway, I’m pretty sure you’re allowed moments like this and I’m still in awe of anyone who has the dedication to sit down and write every day.


  8. hugs – we were discussing this very topic (someone else has the problem too) last night,

    it sucks. Hope the pen and handwriting makes it better

  9. Sniveling is for the weak!

    Er. I mean… snivel all you want!

    Yeah, that’s what I meant.

  10. I believe you’re allowed to snivel all you like … as long as it doesn’t interfere with the really important things in life. Like making fudge. And shipping fudge at ridiculous cost across the ocean because of course, you and T can’t eat it all yourselves…!

    Do you suppose there’s a customs duty on fudge?

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