On Cooking and Writing

A misleading title, no doubt, though I am both writing and cooking at the moment.

Impossible! you say.

Improbable is perhaps a better word choice, I answer.

To be precise: the crockpot is cooking what I put into it. I am writing this blog.

Huh, you say. Who cares?

And then:

Whatcha cookin'?

Which just goes to show that people would rather know what you're cooking than what you're writing.

(My husband absolutely loves these kinds of leaps in logic.)

UPDATE: 210 pages after ripping out 2.5 that weren't working. A short week this week and next. Off to the big City this weekend. Should be fun.

White Noise

I hesitate to write about the anguish of writing because there is so much more important anguish in the world. Seriously, if we never publish a thing, it's not going to be the end of the universe; it won't even mean the collapse of our little universe. Dreams die hard, but their death is generally survivable.

Yet these doubts and fears are part of the process, and if I want to hold myself accountable on this journey, I suppose I need to acknowledge them. Of course, since I just had to rip out 2.5 pages, and I'm feeling kind of stuck, this may be the only writing I'm doing tonight, so there's that to account for too.

Sometimes the anxiety overwhelms the work. Sometimes the work overwhelms the anxiety. For me, the balancing act is constant, and the least upset to my state of mind can create a buzz that obscures the words. I am forever trying to find that inner peace that allows the ideas to rise through me and onto the page of their own accord. If I try to force it, it shows.

I'm not too thrilled with myself, either, when the writing doesn't go well. It tends to make me a little... snappish. Add to that ongoing and never-ending computer issues, and I often feel as if my head might explode. No matter how often I remind myself of the foolishness of getting upset over little things, I can never quite control my temper. And while the phrase "artistic temperament" has been used (by others) to excuse my outbursts, I don't want to be an arschloch to the people I care about in order to get creative. At this point, the trade-off is definitely NOT worth it.

Well... offer me a couple million for the book & movie rights, and then we'll see. :)

One Big World Full of "No"

The title on this one says it all -- not a successful week contacting people in the publishing world. But there's always this week.

Progress: The Pirate's Bride is up to page 203, which means I wrote about 8 pages last week (the average). Meet You on the Other Side is up 0 pages. That's about average too.

Not feeling all that productive this week, so far, either. Le sigh... better get my backside in some kind of gear soon.

Seriously thinking about going back to school...

The (Publishing) Empire Strikes Back

Well, no, not really... just another rejection letter. This was more of a form than usual, so that was kind of depressing. And really, the whole process is just depressing. 'Tis the season, I suppose.

Last week was a short one, with appointments & other pressures that prevented a full-out writing schedule. Even so, Bride is coming along; 195 pages now (13 pp over 2 weeks) and Meet You on the Other Side now stands at a total of 6 pages. Really struggling with that one... I hope that we can breakthrough to the next level soon where it will take off with a life of its own. It's not the story's fault; we just have to get our heads in the game.

Here's to a better week, with happier outcomes.

Monday, Monday

Really, it's Tuesday very early in the morning, but for me, since I haven't been to bed yet, it's Monday still and will be until I retire around 7 AM. We're on Bobbi-time! (Which is nothing like Hammertime, I promise.)

Monday seems to have become my administrative day. I write the blog, print copies of things, email agents, and generally TCB. What's the importance of this disclosure, you ask? None, I answer. Just sayin'.

So, last week's counts are up from the week before -- always a good sign. Bride is up to 182 pages (that's 8 additional) and Meet You on the Other Side is up about 2.5 pages for a grand total of 5.25 pp. (Total writing for the week: 10.5 pages.) Wahoo! Well... it's progress, anyway.

Sent out a few more queries but no responses just yet. Got word that the 2010 Nicholl Fellowship apps have opened should we choose to enter. The organizers of the competition write the nicest emails -- informative, encouraging, well-worded. They put a good thing into the world.

Hmmm, anything else? Superbowl Sunday was great. As you might guess, my interest in football generally registers in the negative numbers, but the Saints are dear to friends of mine, so they're dear to me by extension. And some of my dearest friends came to watch with us, which made the evening better than I could have expected.

It's all good, baby. It's all good.

Pounding the (Electronic) Pavement

Quick update on The Pirate's Bride: wrote about 10 pages last week, ripped up 2 last night & today, so the page count is up to 174. Having a bit of trouble going forward, mostly because we have too much to say. This is not a bad thing; just have to get my mind organized.

Other news: had two "thanks-but-no-thanks" replies from agents since last week. At least they're quick and generally polite about responding, although one form letter/email left a lot to be desired in terms of both warmth (and more disturbingly) grammar. I think we're glad that agency wasn't interested...

Bless the Internet; it makes this process much easier. In one of our early forays in seeking representation for our screenplays, we created a form letter & inserts, including a response card. We got a lot of (no thanks) responses (not to mention one interested response that in the end we had to pass on because of the problem of retaining the book rights), but it took forever.

Now we can get kicked in the teeth daily, whenever we decide to check our email. Wahoo!

Nah, I don't mean it, not really... We wrote a good book that's worth reading. If you build it, they will come, right?

There's a Refrigerator Full of Food... Challenge Yourself!

My longtime friend Alex may recall the title of this post from some witless movie we watched one evening in the early nineties. It made us laugh then, and it makes me laugh now, but it got me thinking tonight when I sat down to write.

The Pirate's Bride is coming along, adding another 11 pages this past week -- again, not bad considering I only had 4 nights instead of 5 to work within. It's pretty good stuff, though some of it could use a massage. That will come, as will the key into the next section that is currently eluding me. Thank goodness, so far, I can count on it to work itself out in my head.

The screenplay, on the other hand, has gone nowhere. I can't quite kick myself hard enough to get to work on it, and that's troublesome since we're A) writing from scratch and B) hoping to submit for the 2010 Nicholl Fellowship competition, with a May 1st deadline.

So... do I challenge us (Jeannine and me) to buckle down, write the screenplay, edit it, workshop it in a group and complete the additional edits in only 4 months? Or do we decide not to send an entry this year? We don't want to send a rough piece -- what would be the point? But should we set the goal and do whatever it takes to achieve it, knowing that pressure sometimes produces a great piece?

It would be a serious time commitment. It would take away from Bride for sure, and no doubt from other projects. Yet it's only a few months, and we have the idea mostly fleshed out.

Decisions, decisions.

(Just Like) Starting Over

The midnight to morning shift seems to be working, although I do have to take weekends off -- it pleases my husband. Since my husband is a truly wonderful, tolerant, encouraging man who never asks for much and probably deserves much more than I give to him, I am happy to oblige him on this point. Someday I hope to keep him in the style to which he should become accustomed.

So, counting last week Sunday through Thursday, and subtracting last night (long weekend in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King), I wrote 11 pages last week for The Pirate's Bride and 3 pages for our new screenplay, See You on the Other Side. And those page counts don't include editing for both pieces. Considering that I was hoping at one point to manage 8.33 pages a month, I am happy with the bottom line. Could always be better, of course, but for right now, good enough.

On to the agents' queries... I did send one earlier this morning; first one to a book agent since, wait, lemme look it up--holy frijoles!--last April! Wow. Well, that's one good reason we haven't gotten much response; if we don't contact them, I'm pretty sure they won't contact us.

Yikes. I know we got caught up in the Nicholl Fellowship and then moving house, not to mention moving my dad up here, followed by the responses generated by the fellowship, but still... Time for me to fix my lips and get my shit together. (That's what we tell the dog when his flappy lips get rolled up against his gums...)

All right, 3:30AM break is over, time to get to work.

A Century of Pages

Finally passed the hundred-page mark for The Pirate's Bride; 108 pages to be exact. This milestone actually occurred a few days ago, but I wanted to make sure I planned to keep what I'd written. (It doesn't happen often, but I do sometimes scrap whole scenes, and that would have taken me back into the nineties.)

Frankly, it doesn't seem like much for ten months' work -- only about 58 pages, 'cuz I had 50 when I started. I try to take into account, however, that I also completed a major and a minor rewrite to Slide in those ten months, as well as moved 1.5 households, provided serious emotional support to my dad as he coped with his wife's terminal illness and eventual death, and laid the groundwork for several other projects.

I would really love to knock out 50 more pages before November 6. That would still only bring my average up to about 8.3 pages per month... but who's counting?

Messing About in the Garden

As I write this, I should be working on The Pirate's Bride, for which I have managed to write about six pages in the past ten days, and a whole paragraph (okay, two) today. Chalk it up to the dental hygeniest appointment this morning, and then the errands I had to run, as well as the lunch I had with my dad to celebrate his birthday. (A larger celebration is planned tomorrow; though today is the actual date, we're celebrating tomorrow night.)

Those aren't much of an excuse, though, especially when I took the time to score 237,100 on Bejewled Blitz and look at my email umpteen times this afternoon. If I could play that game professionally, I think I would --I'd at least be getting a return on my addiction. But I digress...

And that's the problem. I'm digressing a lot these days, and regressing, and procrastinating, and all kinds of other "ing"s. Perhaps the problem with being self-motivated is that when you're not, there's no one to kick you up the backside and tell you to move along.

So I'm telling myself:

MOVE ALONG!

Circling

Since deciding to chuck the traditional workforce for writing full-time, I think I've developed ADD or ADHD or whatever the hell one fits. My symptoms include an inability to keep my posterior in the chair for more than a few minutes (unless I'm playing an online game or Spider Solitaire) when I'm actually trying to, oh, you know, WRITE.

I never used to be like this: I used to be able to concentrate for hours on whatever I happened to be working on. And I used to be largely indistractable: for example, I used to do homework in front of the T.V., sometimes with music playing simultaneously, and usually with my parents fighting in the background. And in spite of missing a minimum of 36 days of school each year, I still made good grades -- 37th in a class of 250 in high school, magna cum laude in college in a 3-year accelerated program. Imagine what I might have done if I had actually applied myself!

I don't say any of this to boast; I say it with a deep mourning for what used to be. Nowadays, I have to write a few words,then get up and sweep the floor; write a few more words, then go get a drink; write a little more... you get the picture.

Oddly enough, though, I'm still making progress. At least there's that.

One Week Gone...

So, I have not gotten a ton of writing done this week, but I feel as though I have adjusted my attitude -- and sometimes that can be more beneficial for going forward than generating a bunch of mediocre work. (Quality, not quantity.)

I'm starting to believe writing full-time may actually be the right thing for me. Even though the economy is tanking, I've given up a decent paying job, and our debt load hasn't changed much, I still feel better than I have in years. And it's not just because I don't have to answer to a supervisor; I still have to answer to myself, and I'd take bets that I'm a much harsher task master than any supervisor I've worked with. I've had some good ones, and they weren't half so exacting.

This week was orientation. Next week is training. Then the real work begins...