I threw down 7,380 words today, with the specific understanding that I need to get used to this amount of output if I plan on finishing this book on time. It's great that I had such a productive day--nearly twice as much as I normally do, with two full chapters and two brief interludes/flashbacks--and I'm really encouraged that I was able to get done fairly difficult scenes with a small measure of adroitness, but I fear it's just not going to be enough.
Peter and I will be celebrating our 5th and 29th respective birthdays next Saturday by going to Thanksgiving Point Dinosaur museum. That is, of course, awesome. What is less awesome is that there's no way that I'll be justified in getting any writing done. So while I may have kicked some royal pagination here today, it actually simply balances out next week. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm quite happy to have a day with my boys and the rest of my family. That's great. I'm always sad when I miss a writing day, though.
Today was really unique, though. My World War I class is officially finished, as I went to the class and took the test. An hour after that, I was in the UVU library, working on the first chapter of the day. Right around the time that I usually get lunch (after the class ended), I had finished that chapter. I packed up my stuff, then slid down to Burger King for my disgusting caloric intake, thinking in my mind, "I haven't written yet today, I haven't written yet today." Once fed, I returned to the library to "start" writing...again.
I worked pretty steadily, but I have to admit that the second chapter was rougher than the first. I think part of it came from the fact that I was trying harder to stay on track with my outline. This is why I normally don't outline--I hate feeling restricted in letting the story go where it wants to go. But if I deviate from this outline, I don't know what kind of ending I'm going to get, and I'm too close to the end to let it slip away from me. Already I feel as though I've created climaxes that could almost be said to have resolved the story. I'm feeling pressure to keep up that kind of tension, but there comes a point when the denouement is expected. I think I've already passed that point, so it's an uncomfortable place to be. The fact that there are still so many chapters to go is a little chilling.
Nevertheless, I'm happy with what's been done so far. If I can trick myself into still using my Saturdays this way, I may be able to push forward with enough chutzpah to get this knocked out on time. After I've finished writing the book, I'll order a two copy printing from UPS or FedEx or someone. They'll print it, bind it, and then sell me my own book. With the hardcopy in hand, I'll have a bajillion hours of edits to do. Once that second draft is done, I'll start shopping it around for agents and publishers. Whilst that occurs, I'll also be refining the third draft and, most likely, starting a new book. Whether or not it's a sequel remains to be seen, but I wouldn't be surprised it if becomes one.
See, I had this crazy flash in my brain the other day. We were kneeling down to say family prayers, and I stopped midsentence, my brain suddenly firing in a weird way. A character--a despot, crazy, charismatic, lethal guy--dropped into my head. I saw exactly where I could fit him in, provided I wanted to continue the story. He's just lurking in the wings of my mind, waiting for his chance to come out and create some havoc. While I'm in no hurry to unleash him, it was strange that the inspiration struck. I finished the halting prayer, of course, but, I'll be honest--I wasn't paying attention to what I was saying, really. I was busy picking at this new antagonist who had pretty much kicked down the doors of my mind.
Peter and I will be celebrating our 5th and 29th respective birthdays next Saturday by going to Thanksgiving Point Dinosaur museum. That is, of course, awesome. What is less awesome is that there's no way that I'll be justified in getting any writing done. So while I may have kicked some royal pagination here today, it actually simply balances out next week. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm quite happy to have a day with my boys and the rest of my family. That's great. I'm always sad when I miss a writing day, though.
Today was really unique, though. My World War I class is officially finished, as I went to the class and took the test. An hour after that, I was in the UVU library, working on the first chapter of the day. Right around the time that I usually get lunch (after the class ended), I had finished that chapter. I packed up my stuff, then slid down to Burger King for my disgusting caloric intake, thinking in my mind, "I haven't written yet today, I haven't written yet today." Once fed, I returned to the library to "start" writing...again.
I worked pretty steadily, but I have to admit that the second chapter was rougher than the first. I think part of it came from the fact that I was trying harder to stay on track with my outline. This is why I normally don't outline--I hate feeling restricted in letting the story go where it wants to go. But if I deviate from this outline, I don't know what kind of ending I'm going to get, and I'm too close to the end to let it slip away from me. Already I feel as though I've created climaxes that could almost be said to have resolved the story. I'm feeling pressure to keep up that kind of tension, but there comes a point when the denouement is expected. I think I've already passed that point, so it's an uncomfortable place to be. The fact that there are still so many chapters to go is a little chilling.
Nevertheless, I'm happy with what's been done so far. If I can trick myself into still using my Saturdays this way, I may be able to push forward with enough chutzpah to get this knocked out on time. After I've finished writing the book, I'll order a two copy printing from UPS or FedEx or someone. They'll print it, bind it, and then sell me my own book. With the hardcopy in hand, I'll have a bajillion hours of edits to do. Once that second draft is done, I'll start shopping it around for agents and publishers. Whilst that occurs, I'll also be refining the third draft and, most likely, starting a new book. Whether or not it's a sequel remains to be seen, but I wouldn't be surprised it if becomes one.
See, I had this crazy flash in my brain the other day. We were kneeling down to say family prayers, and I stopped midsentence, my brain suddenly firing in a weird way. A character--a despot, crazy, charismatic, lethal guy--dropped into my head. I saw exactly where I could fit him in, provided I wanted to continue the story. He's just lurking in the wings of my mind, waiting for his chance to come out and create some havoc. While I'm in no hurry to unleash him, it was strange that the inspiration struck. I finished the halting prayer, of course, but, I'll be honest--I wasn't paying attention to what I was saying, really. I was busy picking at this new antagonist who had pretty much kicked down the doors of my mind.
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