Since the last time I blogged I realised I was in a bit of a writing funk. I have gotten to the stage where absolutely EVERYTHING distracts me, even though I’m doing nothing. My parents came for the weekend though and that was wicked. I wrote off last week, figuratively of course because I wrote nothing, and got back to it today. And wrote three thousand words in a couple of hours. My aim before I go to sleep is 5.5k and then if I do that tomorrow I’m back on target and THAT means that when my guests arrive on Saturday next weekend I should hopefully be back on target and can risk missing another weekend. I don’t think I’m going to be finished as soon as I’d hoped though. Sometimes novels just work that way.
I do feel much better about it though. I definitely let the fact that other writers are so good and are doing really well, producing really great things etc really get to me last week. Sometimes I feel like when that happens I do need to take a step back and forget about it. This is MY work and it’s only ME that can write it. Unless one of your favourite author writes a book almost exactly the same but more quaint, less sad and with lots of baking in it (it’s even set in Plymouth too!?) – It’s not quite exactly the same as the script that I wrote two years ago (‘The Company of One’ for those who know of it), but the basic “overcoming the creatures that represent mental health issues” part is the main part of both. I think that plus my anxiety that I explained in my last post just really got me down. I just have to brush it all off and let it go, which is easier (so. much. easier) said than done.
But I have reached that stage of writing, and that time of year, where there are muffin crumbs on my hot water bottle because I won’t get up from my desk to get a plate lest I lose my streak and get distracted again. And really, now that I’ve accepted that the story is actually starting to take on a life of its own properly, it’s much easier to keep going once I’ve got started. I am looking, as I type this blog post, at the plot structure I made just a few weeks ago and I realise that I haven’t stuck to it at all since chapter three. I am now on chapter ten. The scenes I have written are/will be in there but they are different to how I expected to write them. And obviously, they are not in the same order. It’s quite bizarre how different the two actually are. Much more so than plot structures and the scripts they become. Although with scripts I find the plot changes are usually made in the editing stages. It’s easier to do on final draft too because you can highlight scenes and drag them where ever you want them to go. I think after I finish this I might revisit “our Perennials” and give that a proper edit, get that up to the standard it deserves. That poor script, it deserved much better than what was provided for it… But that’s another conversation.
I think at this stage I’ve accepted that giving it up is stupid. Honestly even if it gets rejected by everyone who reads it, I know that giving up now means that I’m just quitting because it’s too hard. And that would be easy to do. Work is stressful, the house needs doing up, I’m not really doing anything outside of writing and work most of the time. This weekend proved that to me, there’s so many cool places around us that we just haven’t explored because every day off I’ve had I’ve spent locked away in my office trying to catch up with words. I know that one day I’ll be able to give up my day job and have more time to do that stuff, but right now it feels really strange, writing and writing and not getting there as fast as I want to, and not feeling like I’m doing anything else either. But not wanting to. I want to do this. I want to be able to finally. stop. serving. coffee.
And on that note, I have finished my tea, and I have words to write.
Don’t tread on the flowers.