xerinmichellex

Health Update: ( Read more... )

Writing Nonsense: I'm thisclose to starting. I've notecard-ed out the first three chapters and am mentally preparing myself (and bribing myself) to start in the next couple of days. (Eek!) I had a sudden boost of "okay, I can do this" after a talk with one of my mom's friends. Now, here's the thing: I hardly ever talk about my writing in my real life. Whenever someone asks what I'm up to, I mumble about "hanging out" or "reading" or "watching TV". I say nothing about "oh, I'm writing." So, it was a complete shock, in the middle of talking with one of my mom's friends that she asked if I was still writing. Which (*dons my Sherlock deerstalker*) means that my mom told her that I was writing, which. . .I was touched by it.

You see, the thing about my mom and whenever I've tried explaining the publishing business, I don't think she gets it. She (and my dad) is a professional: she's a Registered Nurse. She went to college and got a nursing degree. So, whenever I brought up how long it takes to get into the writing profession, her immediate response is to say "Go to college and get a degree for your writing." Like a "writing degree" is this magical thing that'll open up doors and SUDDENLY no matter what I write, it's going to get published. (Her other thing is that maybe if I went to college for writing "doors would open for me and I'd meet people". Which. . .those kinds of "doors" and "people" are probably not the ones who will help a writer who wants to write commercial fiction or, gasp!, YA novels.) It's conversations like that that've kept me from divulging to anyone in real life that I'm writing a novel because, as any writer would know, it's extremely frustrating to hear "Well, why don't you do this" or "Why don't you write about [inset newest trend here] because it's really popular" or "Aren't you too young to be a writer?", etc.

But with my mom's friend asking if I was still writing, it didn't feel. . .invasive. It felt like support. It felt like I should sit my butt at the computer and continuing writing. Because I had been writing pretty steadily from 2006 - 2010; but then for various reasons I stopped. That "if" bolstered my confidence that I have done this before. That I can do it again.

(My mom's friend also asked if I was going to get something published and I laughed and said, "Well first I have to write something in order to publish something.")

Though, apparently, if it's late at night I let my guard down and talk about The Book much easier. Because a post came on ohnotheydidnt about a major YA deal and we were all commiserating on our own manuscripts that are taking a lifetime to complete, and. . .I got some nice responses when I explained (painfully) what mine was. (My thread is here, where I give a bit more detail on what it is.) Not-so shamelessly I've mem'd the post so when I am feeling down or feeling OMG I'M NEVER GOING TO GET THIS FINISHED, I can pull it up and bask in the positive feedback.

(Also: I may or may not trout it out if I sell the thing and a similar post of UGH THAT SOUNDS TERRIBLE shows up on ONTD. Because then I can say, "You bitches were all rooting for me 5 years ago!")

Now, time to snuggle with a nice cup of hot cocoa and Gaslight.

I've wanted to post more frequently because it was the holiday season and it's my favorite time of the year. But because of personal reasons I haven't. (Incidentally, I was much more active on my Tumblr this past month because it's easier to just click a re-blog link than it is to type up an entire post.) I've kept mum on the subject, only because I thought it would go away. It isn't anything super-serious (*fingers crossed*), but I did want to share what's been going on.

( Cut for personal health stuff )

Needless to say, that during these bouts of pain I haven't been in the best of moods. I've tried to temper my real-life irritability on the internet; but if I have come off as unnecessarily short or ill-tempered, I'm sorry. My irritation isn't directed at any of you; it's at myself and whatever is causing my discomfort.

On the writing front: I'm in the process of combining all the various pages of research and loose papers of notes into one notebook to make my life easier. Still plotting away; but I think I'm at the point where I could feasible start writing the first (terrible) draft beginning next week. There's a huge chunk of plot I haven't quite figured out. However, I do have a good idea of the first five or six chapters that, even if I don't have a major element down, I shouldn't let it prevent me from starting something. Otherwise it'll be another year of waiting for this over-arcing plot to appear.

I'm also comfortable enough to share what exactly I've been grueling over the past year (two years?): ( Cut for story babble and inspiration )

The thing that has been tripping me up the most isn't the world building (I'm very proud of it, actually. I just hope it holds up.) but all the moving pieces and stuff that is happening behind the scenes that the MC isn't aware of. It's stuff like planning people's motives and making sure they make sense and don't totally negate future plots. (I have mentioned that this would be the first of four books in a series, no? Because I like to count my chickens before they hatch.) I'm also trying to recreate the atmosphere that I see in my mind for this story as words on paper. Not an easy task when you feel very uncreative.

So that's pretty much the jist of what's been going on: an alternating cycle of health problems and trying to work on The Book during these bouts of pain. I hope everyone has a Happy New Year! See you all in 2014.