I don’t know about you, but I can’t believe it’s August already. It seems a cruel trick that the older you get, the faster time seems to pass. I have so many projects brewing, but they all have to wait, now. As you can see on the progress meter in the sidebar, I’ve reached the 75% mark in writing the first draft of my next novel. It’s time to hunker down and finish.
If you’ve wondered why I never refer to my WIP by title, it’s because I don’t have one. I did. I felt it was perfect, and then I thought to check how many other books have the same title. Too many, I’m afraid. Now, as I write, the title question is always in the back of my mind. And whether my new title will work with the cover image I’d already chosen.
But now, all that really matters is writing. Writing. And writing.
I’m trying not to think of what comes next—editing. I love that process, but I anticipate more of it on this book than I had on The Brevity of Roses, simply because I worked differently this time. I got the idea for this novel while I was still writing Brevity, but it was not the next novel I started. This story idea marinated for a year and a half, during which I would occasionally pull it out and turn it over.
Then, last June, I felt ready to begin the writing. I started fine with notes, a basic outline, an opening scene. By August, I’d the first three chapters and some disjointed scenes based on the outline. Then, for several months, illness limited my writing time. I made brutally slow progress. Yadda, yadda, yadda, and now I’m nearing the finish.
What have I learned this last year? First, “the best laid plans of mice and men” applies. Second, the process of writing a novel is somewhat different each time—or maybe I haven’t perfected a system yet. Three, if you don’t give up, even if you can write no more than a sentence or two some days, the words pile up and you write a novel.
Now, it’s back to writing for me. What are you up to?
Until the last couple of years, I’ve never been a big short story reader. I’ve written some, but they were for my own eyes. But, in the last year, I’ve greatly increased the number of short stories I read. I also read articles on how to write short fiction. I’m still not sure I get it.
And yes, sometimes, I’m just putting it off. For weeks, I’ve been saying I need to get down to serious work on my next novel, and yet here I am saying it again. I do have legitimate Real Life distractions. And I’m still working out some plot points in the back of my mind, so maybe not all is lost. Still, in part, I’m just wasting time. I find myself making lists. Most of these are to-do lists, which I know, even as I make some of them, I may never look at again.
For months now, I’ve been taking down notes, sometimes nearly full scenes, in preparation to write my next novel. I know how it begins, how it ends, and some bits in-between, but I’ve been waiting for something more.
Yes, I know it’s not exactly the end of February, but it’s close enough. We’re chipping away at 2011. One fourth, twenty-five percent, of the year is gone. Whether you made formal New Year’s resolutions or just had vague hopes for this year, how are you doing so far?