I think it’s time to start writing again. The itch to do so has been constant lately.
Even though I’m working on Theadia (and doing a soft-start for the remaster of The Persistence of Memories), I’ve been itching to just write something new. I’m not sure what just yet, and I’m not going to force it. That, and I’ve sort of resurrected some of my writing habits again — noting word count in the small black moleskine calendar notebook, for instance. I’m not doing it every day of course, I’m merely entering it every now and again when the thought and the temptation strikes.
I know I talk about this here every now and again, and I admit sometimes I’m like a broken record (a skipping cd? a corrupted FLAC?) but it’s been an ongoing process that needs constant adjustment and tweaking. We writers sometimes get all meta about our process and it’s usually because we’re trying to figure out why our processes are the way they are, why they sometimes no longer work, and what we need to do to change them. That kind of thing never ends, I’m afraid, but it’s something I’m used to at this point.
As always, it’s just a matter of doing it. Once I start, the rest comes easier.
It’s been a bit over three months since we moved into our New Digs, and things are finally settling and falling back into place. I might still have to remind myself that those month-end payments aren’t for rent anymore but mortgage, but other than that I’m happy that we’re here. We might be slightly further away from the shopping corridors but we’re two blocks from our community garden plot, a block away from a major bus route as well as a very large public park, and the neighborhood is thankfully much more peaceful. (Yes, even during recess for the kidlets at the school across the way.)
This is good timing, as it’s that time of year where I feel the need to change things up. And you know how I am in autumn: excited about the new music releases and contemplative about where I am and where I want to be. I’ve already made a lot of positive changes over the last few months — with room for improvement, of course — so it’s really just a matter of doing it at this point. Or not doing, depending on the situation. Some habits I find I just do not need nor want anymore. Some habits I’d like to revisit once more.
And what about writing? Well, the remaster of A Division of Souls is out and away, and I’m thinking of starting in on the remaster of The Persistence of Memories pretty soon. I’m also focusing on Theadia and it’s still looking good and on schedule for release sometime next year. But I can’t help but think: I’ve got a journal and a notebook gathering dust in my satchel right now, and my 750Words sign-in remains woefully ignored. I mean, I’ve worked on multiple stories at that same time before, so this is nothing new. I can certainly play around with writing extremely rough drafts of new ideas while spending most of my creative energies on the two main projects. And in the process, probably disconnect from a few IRL things that I don’t need to hyperfocus on.
And what better time to do it than during the season that works best for me?
I’ve been toying with the idea of bringing my satchel to work. Right now the only thing I usually bring is my coffee thermos and my lunch bag, but I’ve been thinking lately about bringing just a few things more.
The main reason, to be honest, is to change some habits.
I’m really getting sick of spending my entire breaks staring at my phone and reading social media. I mean, there’s no real harm in it as I curate my feeds pretty thoroughly these days, but I’m kind of getting bored by it, to be honest. Not the feeds themselves, mind you. Just the habit of doing it every single flipping moment that I have a break. I don’t really enjoy it anymore, to be honest. I’ll check my emails or any texts I get from A, but not much else.
I’ve been thinking about it: bring in a few things I will definitely interact with: my moleskine personal journal, a word search magazine, that sort of thing. Preferably something not electric if I can get away with it. Perhaps bring in one of my empty spiral-bound notebooks for some longhand work.
And yes, that’s another reason: getting out of the habit of passive scrolling and into the habit of fun creativity at work. I’m not aiming to write a novel here (not just yet, anyway), but I think I would benefit from using downtime for things I enjoy. The tricky part here is that our break room is tiny, so I’d either need to find a spot outside (in the car if I’m driving, for instance) or on the roof. But I’ll figure that out when it comes to it.
Either way, I’m up for a change. I’m due for a change, at any rate.
All this rereading of my finished novels, WIPs and backburner projects has also kicked off more rereading, this time of my early longhand writing. Right now I’m going through some of my old chapbook poetry and lyrics, transcribing some of them and making personal notes. Why? Well, why not?
One of the reasons for doing this now is that I’m conducting a writing experiment. I’m assigning myself to work on something every day, without fail. I’m assigning myself simple things like doing some fun Walk in Silence (the book) work on 750Words and this poetry transcription. Easy writing that would take less than an hour out of my day. That was the impetus: I wanted to see if I could do a full month in a row. I started on June 1, kept on going, and I haven’t missed a day yet, so that’s nearly two months right there. Not bad at all, really. I see no reason why I should stop now.
I’ve mentioned before that I’d assigned myself a transcription project back in the summer of 1995 and into spring of 1996. I’d done it then as I’d finally had access to a computer and wanted a digital copy of my juvenilia for safe-keeping as well as for easier access. [There was also the fact that I’d done it as a distraction to avoid falling into a self-loathing spiral due to my failure at staying in Boston, but that’s another story.] That was the last time I’d done it to any considerable extent. This has become a bit of a problem in the present time, because a lot of that work was written using the MS Write program which no longer exists, and WRI files don’t translate well at all to Word or Notepad. I have the printouts…but I’d really like to have the digital versions once more.
Why am I doing this instead of writing novels, you ask? Well, I’m getting there. The rereads of the current work are preparing me for the novel projects. Refreshing my memory of the novel projects I’d like to work on next. And I still have a ways to go before I’m fully ready. It’s prep work.
It’s also interesting to read words I’ve written that I haven’t reread to any serious extent for nearly three decades. While there’s a lot in there at my most inexperienced, there are also smaller gems: unique ideas and impressive passages that merely needed the work of a much better writer. I had to start somewhere, and I wasn’t afraid to start at the bottom just like everyone else. I’m also finding elements of myself then that explain who I am now.
That’s what’s making it worthwhile: looking back in order to move forward.
No, really, I type fast. I just don’t know what to write at the moment. Honest!
Speaking of calling it, I’m putting an end to my ongoing test of whether or not I can write a novel longhand. It just doesn’t seem to be working out the way I’d like. I’ve tried it with at least three projects over the past couple of years, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s this:
I write longhand much slower than I type.
I haven’t tested my typing speed, but I know it’s at least 70 wpm, if not faster. [This doesn’t include my frequent misspellings; apparently the word “available” is the hardest one for me to type fast. Thanks to my Day Job for pointing that out.] I’ve never written longhand fast, because if I went any quicker it would be illegible shorthand.
I judge the pace of my novels as I write them. When I get into a writing flow, I connect with the pace of the story. I connect with the fast action scenes and the deliberately slow dramatic scenes. I’ve written novels on the PC for almost twenty years now, so I’ve gotten used to this process. And because I write longhand so much slower, I have trouble adjusting to the flow of the story. I’ve attempted this multiple times with a handful of projects, and each time it’s lasted maybe a few months before I give up and restart the whole thing on MS Word.
I’ve been thinking maybe this might be one of the reasons why I’ve been having so much trouble with the Apartment Complex story, and why I’ve been having no trouble at all with In My Blue World. I started noticing it again when restarted Can’t Find My Way Home the other night. I was frustrated and straining trying to write it in my notebook, but as soon as I restarted it on Word, everything started flowing seamlessly.
So. Does this mean I’ll give up longhand? For novel projects, yes. I’m still using it for my personal journal and other mini-projects, but for now, my novel writing will remain on the PC or on the laptop.
I’ll be honest, I’m not used to writing this rough of a draft. I usually start the the first draft straight to MS Word and fix it as I go along — quite often I’ll draft and revise at the same time. So why am I still slogging away with some of the most randomly disjointed writing I’ve done in quite some time?
Well, one reason is that this is the only time I can afford it at the moment, considering I’m still working on the Lidwells final revision and prep for release. Another is that while I do have a lot of outtakes from the daily warmup words, there’s a lot of in-between work that I still haven’t quite worked through yet. This disjointedness is being done on purpose, to dive a little deeper with this story and its characters. Once I have a better grasp of them, the plot and character evolution gets tighter.
Normally this happens during my initial MS Word draft, quite often around chapter five or so, when I’ve finally figured out who everyone is and what I can do with them. The rest of this draft then ends up being pretty tight and straightforward with not that much major revision needed. The downside to this is that I then need to do said major revision to the first four or five chapters. This can be harder than it sounds, because not only am I creating the opening to a story, I must also make sure that I plant enough seeds of ideas that will show up later in the book.
As I’d mentioned many times earlier, writing longhand is how I wrote the pre-trilogy Bridgetown story The Phoenix Effect. It wasn’t just about ease of writing anywhere I wanted to, though. I did a lot of making-it-up-as-I-go for quite a bit before I finally figured out the story. The final version of that story is quite different in many ways to the original longhand.
This is precisely why I’m still digging through the longhand of the Apartment Complex story. Once more time opens up for me in the evenings, I’ll be able to do the same exact thing once more: rough draft during the day, and transcription/revision at night. The longhand is there for me to write down the ideas; the revision is there to make those ideas work, and work better.
Featuring the Pilot Metropolitan pen that A got me for Christmas. I haven’t used a nib pen in ages!
I’ve been writing and editing via my PC for so long that it still feels weird to be writing new things longhand. The last major project I wrote longhand was The Phoenix Effect; the trilogy was written completely on the computer, using MS Write and MS Word. I still have the 3″ floppies containing all the early .wri files, come to think of it. I did do a lot of the world building and the brainstorming longhand, mostly on scrap paper from work (these were the Yankee Candle years), but the new words were all generated downstairs in the Belfry, tapping away on my PC.
Even later incomplete and/or trunked projects like Love Like Blood, Can’t Find My Way Home and Two Thousand and even the earlier versions of Walk in Silence were started or at least primarily written on the computer. I liked working that way for varying reasons: I could chart my daily word count and my production in general; I could edit while writing when it was clear it was needed; I could open multiple documents for reference use and note taking; and peripherally, I could keep myself amused and entertained with my mp3 collection playing in the background.
Writing on the PC can be a great thing, and I still enjoy it, but over the years I’ve realized its limitations as well. I have a penchant for distraction, whether it’s multiple games of FreeCell and Solitaire, futzing around with the tags and the arrangement of my mp3 collection, or the continued refreshing of my Twitter feed. I’ve also been hiding myself in Spare Oom far too long. And then there’s the fact that I already work from home, so I’m spending most of the day back there already, sitting on my duff for eight hours. Spare Oom may not be a man cave, but over the years it began to feel like I was using it as a hideaway from the world. It’s the one room in the apartment that has the best view (see the banner picture over at Walk in Silence), but I don’t look out that window nearly as much as I should.
Starting up my personal journal a few years back was my way of combating all this. Its original purpose was to divert my kvetching habits from social media to paper and curtail them somewhat, and it worked almost immediately. I also made it a habit to write its entries away from my desk. For the last year or so I’ve been writing in it during my midmorning break, sitting on the loveseat across the room where I can glance out the window as well. Much to my own surprise, I’ve kept it up consistently since then, skipping only weekends and vacations.
Early last year, when it was clear that I’d be wrapping up the trilogy project by year’s end, I started writing the new Mendaihu Universe story. This was the first new story I’d be starting completely longhand, in a yellow-covered 3-subject spiral notebook I picked up at Target. This too was kept up consistently until late last year when I put it aside to self-release the trilogy. Once that project is finally wrapped, I’ll be able to pick it up again. In the meantime, though, I’ve been starting new projects longhand, such as this latest version of Walk in Silence. My return to artwork and renewed dedication to weekly poetry have finally torn me away from the PC as well. In addition to that, I’ve been trying to make a concerted effort to work more often on my laptop out in the living room (where I am currently typing this) if I need to use MS Word. And yesterday afternoon during the two football playoff games I sat at the dining table, writing a few WiS pages.
I’d commented elsewhere that I don’t plan on turning myself into a Luddite writer; I just feel the need to change up the habits to keep everything fresh. I can view using the PC as a positive work process rather than a distraction or a slog. I’m not chained to it, and shouldn’t be. When I was working on the trilogy back in the early ’00s, working on the PC was something I looked forward to as an evening process, maybe even as ‘going to the office’ for my writing career, and I kept that separate from the rest of my life. Returning to longhand after so long is sort of a return to that.
Welcome to Bridgetown 