Where does the time go? I signed up for a course offered by Romance Writers of America called Fast Draft 2015. It’s facilitated by Candace (Candy Havens) who says the program is “a process in which you’ll finish your book in two weeks or less. Using psychological techniques, Candace will show you how to tap into the part of your brain that stimulates creativity so you can write, write, write!”
We started on Monday and were to set a page or word count goal. Mine was modest – 10 pages a day. Some folks set 20 pages. And, if they are not fibbing on the discussion page, most of them are meeting that lofty objective. Lord have mercy. Not me. As I commented yesterday, I feel like the out-of-shape kid at sports day huffing and puffing down the track squinting at the disappearing backs of my classmates as they pull out of sight.
I’m supposed to be on creative fire. Ra, ra, ra. Write, write, write.
The song that rings through my head goes – na na na na, na na na na, hey, hey hey, you’re slow. Part of my problem is that I think too much before I put the words into Scrivener. Striving for perfection. I whip down some dialogue then fuss about whether that character would have said the words in that way. Is the tone clear enough? But Candy thrashes us for letting our internal critic take over. Head down, pound out the words, don’t edit, keep moving. Sheesh, but that’s hard to do. My mind goes all numb and fuzzy after half an hour. I’d actually rather go do some ironing.
Luckily, I’ve never had writer’s block. When I get stuck on one topic I switch to something else. Can’t get the next hook in my romantic mystery novel? Then go write an erotic short story or knock off a few blog posts. Some days I can blister out 20 or 30 pages with no problem. My problem is that I keep editing instead of publishing. That has to change.
The thing is, I lack focus. If I get up to stretch because my fingers are beginning to cramp, I figure I might as well throw in a load of laundry. Or go check on the tomatoes in the garden. Or pull some weeds. I’m trying to drink more water which means frequent trips to the bathroom. Fold some towels, why don’t you? Take something out of the freezer for dinner. Check the Fitbit – have I done enough steps not to feel guilty about wine with dinner? No, then get out for a walk before it rains. See what I mean? Ugh. Too many choices and not enough ‘bum in chair’.
Back to work.