Alright, I‘ll admit it: this is much harder than it looks. Five hundred words a day is a task that folds well into a busy life, but on days that I’m left to my own—look out! It’ll be nine p.m. and Ashlee will be texting you not to forget about the work before you even know that you’re slacking. This weekend was disappointing for that. I charged into this four-day spree ready to read, write and generally work on my creative endeavours. There’s been a lot of naps, a lot of forgotten writing, but hey—I’m on track to finish my book tonight and that’s more than good news! It puts me way a head of my goal of reading one by August 15th.
I could give the flimsy excuse that I didn’t do my writing yesterday because Tyler Fudge came over and we wrote a promo for our new podcast series. It wasn’t five hundred words, but I find do solace in the fact that it was writing. Both dates that are missing from the website have contained writing, just different types. Nothing has stopped me in my tracks, and that’s good, but I am nervously excited about starting this story tomorrow. The timeline dictates that it should have started today, but you’ve seen how I’ve conducted myself this weekend—this should come as no surprise to you! I’m worried about my follow through, I don’t want to abandon it. I want to finish it—and for some reason that is what’s stopping me from starting. The whole thing is an exercise to improve my follow through on projects, but I’m still nervous about it.
I’ve had a story saved on my laptop for almost as long as I’ve had the laptop. At one point it was called Blood & Soil, and then I realized that that title has Nazi connotations, so it then became Steven. I was never happy with that title, so when I started working on it in earnest again, I finally settled on The Quiet One. Who knows, it may change again. Instead of admitting defeat with it, I channeled this new-found artist’s confidence and asked two of my friends to look at it. I’m not worried about grammar or anything like that yet—just whether my characters are believable and the situation compelling.
It’s a weird one that’s gone through several metamorphoses in our time together—I’ve added several aspects to it through the years, slicing in paragraphs and pages written independently of the rest. It’s become a Frankenstein’s monster of ideas and themes, but it all fits. The beast has a mind of its own. I think I can get it to a good place, maybe even good enough that someone would buy it; that’s the new goal with this thing.
I want to finish it to satisfy my process as a writer, but I also want to use it as an experiment. I know why my pieces and stories have been rejected in the past, and I’m factoring it in to this one before I rewrite—that along with fresh eyes, one set from a highly analytical and logical mind, and the other from a writer herself, should allow me to tighten the screws to the point that they hold water. Hopefully that water turns into wine and I can sell it for a couple bucks. Who says you have to ignore money to be an artist? Why can’t we do both? We already live in an age where everything is so groomed, so perfectly displayed for mass consumption, that there is a demand for the authentic. People pay out the nose for authenticity these days because it has the highest built-in value of anything in this fake-ass world.
If I can tell authentic stories and get them in front of people’s faces, I know the rest will come. So, that’s really my goal, at the end of the day. Let’s see if I can follow through.
See you tomorrow, for real this time.