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hawkwing_lbYou know what the major problem with being an amateur addicted to writing is? Worse still, one who hasn't yet hit a prime number greater than 19 in years?
Finding enough time to sit down and write enough words that it feels coherent.
Maybe this isn't a unique problem. But, damnit, I'm doing exams in - uh, is it really ten days? - and I. Can't. Stop. Writing. This. Story.
How my subconscious deals with stress, hey? Two more pages last night, more today.
And what kind of story is it, anyway?
Right now, I'm not too sure. Sure, it wants to be epic-sized, with explosions and starfighter battles (but that's the part of my mind that just saw Revenge of the Sith, and that's not really germane).
It's science-fiction. Sort of. Not feeling so au fait with the hard sciences, I'm trying for something like the Liaden (R) Universe, or Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan universe, or even Star Wars, maligned as that name is in some circles, where the science stuff takes second place to the story (or at least, that's the way I read those stories).
At the moment, it's looking like a story in which my protag. is forced on one of those old 'quest' things, while at the same time trying to resolve his 'issues' with the past.
I'm being deliberately non-specific. Partly because the details of his journey (inner and outer) still have to work themselves out in my mind, and partly because I'm not quite sure whether the _real_ story is about the 'issues', or about the 'quest'. Maybe each depends on the other.
I have an outline, sure, but I'm already making alterations to the last fifth/quarter of it. And I barely have 10% of the words I think I need to write written.
Getting there, though. Monday I might have 11% [g].
/moan/ And that's not even counting the two other ideas I have plotted, and the six I've sort of plotted, and the dozen after that that look/feel/sound like such _fun_ /end moan/
Characters. Curse them. We hates them, precious, yes we does.
Especially when they keep us awake until 4 in the bleedin' morning thinking about them. And nattering to the keyboard again. And talking to ourself(ves?) in Gollum voices.
Now that last one's frightening.
[and I've gone completely OT, but who cares? It's not as though anyone reads this, anyway]
So, 4 new pages today.1000 words. Going good?
Finding enough time to sit down and write enough words that it feels coherent.
Maybe this isn't a unique problem. But, damnit, I'm doing exams in - uh, is it really ten days? - and I. Can't. Stop. Writing. This. Story.
How my subconscious deals with stress, hey? Two more pages last night, more today.
And what kind of story is it, anyway?
Right now, I'm not too sure. Sure, it wants to be epic-sized, with explosions and starfighter battles (but that's the part of my mind that just saw Revenge of the Sith, and that's not really germane).
It's science-fiction. Sort of. Not feeling so au fait with the hard sciences, I'm trying for something like the Liaden (R) Universe, or Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan universe, or even Star Wars, maligned as that name is in some circles, where the science stuff takes second place to the story (or at least, that's the way I read those stories).
At the moment, it's looking like a story in which my protag. is forced on one of those old 'quest' things, while at the same time trying to resolve his 'issues' with the past.
I'm being deliberately non-specific. Partly because the details of his journey (inner and outer) still have to work themselves out in my mind, and partly because I'm not quite sure whether the _real_ story is about the 'issues', or about the 'quest'. Maybe each depends on the other.
I have an outline, sure, but I'm already making alterations to the last fifth/quarter of it. And I barely have 10% of the words I think I need to write written.
Getting there, though. Monday I might have 11% [g].
/moan/ And that's not even counting the two other ideas I have plotted, and the six I've sort of plotted, and the dozen after that that look/feel/sound like such _fun_ /end moan/
Characters. Curse them. We hates them, precious, yes we does.
Especially when they keep us awake until 4 in the bleedin' morning thinking about them. And nattering to the keyboard again. And talking to ourself(ves?) in Gollum voices.
Now that last one's frightening.
[and I've gone completely OT, but who cares? It's not as though anyone reads this, anyway]
So, 4 new pages today.1000 words. Going good?
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