I
kid. ...
Though
it is true I have been fortunate enough to spend time with some really
amazing and great people these last couple of weeks. And I think in the future
I must do more of that.
Anyway,
writing.
I've
had a few weeks of woe. I've not been in the mood, I've been pissed (in the
American sense. and in the general sense too I guess...), and I've found other
things (such as visible ribs, Burlesque Charleston and gin) to be of much more
importance and I have allowed myself to get distracted. So not much writing and I feel really bad about that, as I would
because, hey, I expect to be of some caliber unknown to man.
But
I worked hard. That is for two Sundays in this last month. With the result of
one chapter at 6000+ words. One can't complain, right? Though at this stage in
the process I would expect me to write a lot more. Needless to say I'm very
disappointed in myself, again thinking I might be committing the sunk cost
fallacy and I should just walk away, and that I am of course a complete
failure. At life.
Someone
asked me on Monday if they could read a chapter. I had two in my bag I brought
out to get this awesome sentence I’d written just to illustrate the point I was
making (about loneliness and being in relationships for the wrong reasons). It
was a discarded chapter I'd printed off to reuse some of the imagery and I
didn't want him to read something that I have binned. The other chapter was the
one I wrote in two days. And all of a sudden I felt almost scared. What does my
writing say about me? Not technically - I know I'm really good with words and
it's engaging and funny at the same time as it's dark and poignant with very
psychologically complex characters. It was more a question about what I write
about. But I thought about it the next day and took out two chapters that are
pretty finished and was going to send them. Then I read some of one of them
this afternoon and felt it was crap. Again, technically great but... I don't
know... I was suddenly doubting myself.
However,
I have now had my fragile (ahem) writer's ego massaged, petted, fed and bathed
by several sources this evening so I'm feeling pretty good about it all again.
My mentor has no doubt about where I'm heading. Some of the comments: The voice is great, combining playfulness with
a real depth of emotions. There’s a complexity to the characterization. I could
go on, but I won’t. We have arranged to have a meeting in September (we'll both
be in NYC at the same time) but when I come back I will concentrate on work (fucking
REF and studentships) and we will catch up and see where I'm at in December.
This is not to say I won't write or edit between coming back and December -
just not have the pressure on me when I don’t feel I have time. I might want a
mentor after Christmas again, or even before, to get me to the finishing line.
I’ll just have to see how it goes.
Also
need to say, my other blog - wow! Every time I post something I get one or two
new followers. Which is sort of worrying since that's all about my crazy
head... But still, shows my style is engaging and fun and, maybe most
importantly, honest.
And
I'm just about to finish my vision board (left over from the Reinventing You
workshop I talked about in my last post). There's a picture of, yes,
John Irving on it. Still haven't been able to find his contact details
though.
So
yes, I'm on the cusp. I'm on the cusp of a month long writing retreat; I'm on
the cusp of finishing my novel; I'm on the cusp of visible ribs; I'm on the
cusp of something potentially really great starting whichever way it turns out.
And like one of my favorite people in the world said (this was in text speak but I hate text speak so I’m refining it): “Remember, you are in
control.”
Amen to that!
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