Tuesday, April 2, 2013



(I've said this once before)


Jesus Hector Christ, it’s been a supremely shitty writing week.  I almost gave up on TUG.  Several times.  From the virus, to the purported fix—then not fixed—to the new issues…

I had backed everything up on my external hard drive when all the trouble began.  No problem.  This way I was protected just in case my computer needed reset.  When I got my computer back “repaired” I realized, to my horror that nothing had saved.  But that’s all mentioned before in post eight.  So I rewrote what was gone.  I put it into my machine and, as I suspected, it was much better.  Then my computer started acting up again.  Nice.  I printed it right away.  I returned my computer to the “repair shop.”  They promised it’d be back in two days at most.  And I have this hard copy and the re-saved new version on my external hard drive.  I went to a winery (for the first time) and had a really nice chat with the owner about writing.  She even offered to host a reading for me sometime.  She kept insisting she’d love to read what I’ve written and seemed well-read (ie: she doesn’t care for Stephen King).  So I’m kind of buzzed on wine and go out to my car and grab my copy.  Besides, it’s saved on my ex hard drive. 

Later, when I return home, I plug my drive into my daughter’s laptop only to discover that the file exists—with 0 bytes.  And my only copy is in a winery an hour and a half away (probably in their trash can).  And the guy at the computer shop says he may need to reset my laptop.  Well, suffice it to say, “Fuck.”

I went to Best Buy and bought a new computer.

I returned home, plugged in my drive and started writing from the last save point.  Yes, I think it’s better again.  All I have to do is have shitty luck to have good writing luck.  I’m still awaiting the fate of my old laptop. 

Now, on to writing stuff…

I’ve definitely quickened the story.  Remember that timeline I made?  It was just a guide and is now pretty much useless.  But it did serve a purpose in allowing me to marshal my thoughts.  I’m midway through chapter three and events originally scheduled for chapter five are occurring now.  This is good.  I stopped writing tonight at a very (hopefully) moving place in the story.  It was a good writing evening because I’m feeling down in the dumps and this is a sad part of the story.  Getting down in the dumps always helps me write better.  It makes me not live in the moment so much, causes me to become overly introspective.  Sometimes the dreaded future of things seems so clear that I feel fortunate to have clarity, any clarity.  This clarity seems to help me to focus on the past, present, and future of pretend characters in a pretend story.  Being as this story is, basically, my story I can tune in to the mood so easily. 

So bad luck and sadness are my key.  Lucky me.  Performing a psychoanalysis of myself causes me to believe that the more I want my story to succeed, the more I’ll determine ways to maintain this melancholy.  That’s a pretty stupid statement.  But it just might be true. 

Three and a half chapters into things and I’m thinking of taking a risk in chapter four.  I want all these goals, subplots, etc to be established by the end of chapter four, that’ll be about 40 pages in.  I’m trying to keep chapter length consistent at 10-12 pages.  The reason I feel this is a risk is that it’s going to be a lot of information in a short space.  Again, I want things organic.  I’m avoiding as much narration as possible.  I think I can do this through dialogue and by my antagonist finally making a physical appearance in the story (I want all the major characters to be introduced as well by the end of chapter four).

I only wrote about 700 NEW words this week which isn’t bad considering all the down time and frustration.  I look to have hammered out the rest of chapter three then get a good start on chapter four.  

At 7000 words and getting my pace back.  Again, screw that asshole hoodoo bad mojo monster.  He’ll lose.  He always does.              

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