Outside, it's snowing in a lazy way, and inside my mind is lagging and drifting along with the snow. I've been brainstorming new projects, and nothing is catching me, or catching my interest. My interest is lying somnolent on the bottom of the River of Consciousness, not interested in taking the bait. Or it's hiding in the Jungle of Consciousness, camoflaged by light/shade patterns.I have time off in which to write write write, and as always at the beginning of that time, I'm floundering. Usually it takes a couple of weeks before I can pull up my socks and start to be productive. If I was smart, I'd build this into my plans:
1/5-1/10: flounder and whine
1/11-1/15: mope and read a mystery you've already read twice
1/16-1/20: decide to redo the dining room and learn how to make strudel
1/21: pull up socks and begin on new novel/novella/story
I've already read the twice-read mystery, so maybe I'm ready to get out the Austrian cookbooks.
Postcript to Nanowrimo: I didn't get anywhere near 50,000 words, but I did come out of it with about 20 pp of a possible novella, sort of alternate-future-ish.
posted by mary grimm at 12:37 PM
4 Comments:
Nice snow shot.
A friend gave me a very useful metaphor for getting into writing: that it's like diving. You have to submerge and take time to level off and adjust your ear pressure and your buoyancy and stay down there for a while before you're comfortable enough to get something done.
Stay down there for a while: this is good advice. Writing is like learning to breathe underwater.
Are you not that interested in the novella beginning?
Do I detect a reproach, erie?!!?
I'm thinking, first things first.
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