06/27/00 -- More than just Bible Porn

I can't believe what we're reading

Well, I guess I can.  But... wowzers.  Two stories that completely and totally broke my head and two I just didn't get.  Thankfully, I didn't start the critique of any of them in the circle.

Talked about t-shirt designs with some of the rest of our little t-shirt committee.  And talked to Sarah about finding out places where we can get t-shirts done... how long it'll take, what it'll cost, what format they need artwork in and all that jazz.  She's going to look into it, which is wonderful.  Now I just need to put together a sign-up sheet so I know how many shirts, what sizes, etc. everyone wants.

As far as writing goes, I'm with Trey on this one... I'm not sure I'm writing any better than I was when I got here.  I know I'm writing differently.  I'm pushing my muse, forcing her to hit me with her sledgehammer.  And instead, she's just throwing out whatever she can find in her bag of tricks.  Sometimes it doesn't make sense.  Sometimes it doesn't go anywhere.  But then I think about it a lot more and I try and find somewhere for it to go.  I don't know that I've been outlining my stories, per se, but I've been thinking very hard about where they're supposed to go once I get a line or two out.  And I've been keeping them far more on track than I might normally when I'm inspired.

I had a very clear idea of where "Mockingbird Girl" was going to go after I had the first paragraph down.  I knew what had to happen.  I just needed the details. And I need a few more details, but I'm not going to belabor that.

With "Poor as Paupers, Rich as Royalty" I knew where I wanted to go.  I knew it was Romeo & Juliet with a happy ending.  At least, that was where I was starting from.  It didn't conform specifically to the R&J mold, but I had a basic arc and knew what sort of characters I needed.

It's very strange to force myself to write and to write well when I'm not inspired.  Normally, if there's nothing there, I'll plod along and eventually stop if I can't find some reason to continue.  Maybe making myself find good things in stories I don't like is giving me some sort of cue for writing.  I'm forcing myself to write because there will be something good somewhere in the story that I can go back and expand on somehow.  I'm also doing a lot more writing by hand.  The first person story I'm working on right now started as a free-write with Jennifer.  "Mockingbird Girl" and "PaP, RaR" started by hand, too, after I stared at the screen and couldn't get something out.  Maybe that'll be my new SOP.  I don't know.  I can't imagine writing a whole novel that way, though.  I think I'd go out of my flipping mind.

Today is going to be write-write-write.  I've got to finish this damn story.  I hate it.  I want to work on something that I don't hate quite so badly.  I also want to make some tweaks to an old story and send it out to Writers of the Future since the quarter deadline is Friday.  So that really needs to get done today.  I also want to try revising Mockingbird Girl.  But that might end up waiting for the weekend because I want to get another story out before Friday, too.  I'm totally torn.  I'm going out of my mind.  My back still aches. :/  Though it isn't as bad as it was... And it is also not nearly as bad as the last time I tweaked it when I couldn't move without wanting to cry.

Tomorrow will have to be the day to tweak the story I want to send to WotF, apparently.  I wrote wrote wrote and when I wasn't getting anywhere, I printed out the 2000 or so words I had and then, rather than shredding them and throwing them out the window the way I wanted to, I sat down and asked, If someone read this story right this minute, what questions would they have?  I wrote down every question I could think of.  Then I free-wrote answers to all of them (with a not-quite-hour nap between question set 5 and 6).  Shut my internal editor up and just did it.  Scribbled a page and a half of back-story and information that wasn't already in the story.  Weird.

Then I went down with Jennifer and we free-wrote while she did her laundry.  I may have two more somethings from that.  Or maybe three.  Or maybe one to go with another one.  I dunno.

We went and had scary cafeteria food after that.  Really scary cafeteria food.  My chicken looked like chicken. For the most part.  Mark's "swiss steak" looked like anything but.  It was like meat paste had been spread between two layers of cornmeal/oatmeal "breading" and then fried up.  And the leftover sweet and sour sauce from lunch had been poured on top of it.

Note to future Clarionettes:  Stick with the grill.  It's pretty damn hard to fuck up fried food.  I'm sure the salad bar is pretty safe, too, but I'm not a big salad person.  Though the salad bar does have humus and pita bread.  I may go for that at some point.

After dinner, I tackled my story again, with a better sense of what the hell I was going to do with it and where the hell it was going to go.  It's two first-person-POV narratives in one story.  Great.  I hate first person and don't think I can write it well so what do I do?  I bend myself over completely.  @.@

Finally, I got around to reading and critiquing for tomorrow.  Halfway through I stopped because two people on procrastination patrol stopped by at different times.  Mark and I wound up talking about first person and Connie Willis and Six Flags theme parks and tidying up.  My room is a wreck.  I have stuff everywhere.  I wonder how I'm going to get it all back into the boxes it came out of and get it all back into my car.  I have a vague notion of what the setup in the back of my car looked like before I left Colorado.  I think I can duplicate it.  If I can't, then I'm going to have to find some nice Jewish person on campus to duplicate Jonah's Amazing Jewish Packing Ability (tm) and help me get everything back into my car with still enough room for Paula. :)  But when I drop her off in Des Moines, I think I'm going to rearrange the back end so I'll be able to see out the rear window for the rest of the trip home.

Geeze.  I'm already planning the drive home.  Way too weird.  I'm totally torn.  We're not quite halfway through and I'm starting to feel burnt out.  I'm starting to look forward to the end, but I still don't want it to end.  I don't want to go back to the real world.  I don't want to go back to work.  I want to stay here with these 18 other people and just write.

Except I miss my sweetie.  And I miss my dog.  And I miss my ferrets.  And I miss my... er, Boo. O:)  I miss the waterbed (even though I'd probably be sleeping on the futon right now because of my back).  And I miss the dry air!

I hate being torn.

 

 

Okay, so other folks are talking about their productivity here.  I decided I may as well, too. This list (and my productivity) is subject to change without notice. :)
Title	Word Count	Finished	Critiqued?
"Where the Blood Roses Grow" Week one, first story.  Wahoo.  And I was worried that something wouldn't come.	5000	6/13	6/15
"Uprooting the Tree" Will probably change the title at some point.	3400	6/16	6/19
"Mockingbird Girl" I think I'm happiest with this story, so far.	2800	6/19	6/26
"Poor as Paupers, Rich as Royalty" My challenge story from Sean's week.  I hated writing it.  It gave me a toothache.	2000	6/22
That fucking first person narrative (not yet complete) - May never be completed.  Don't I feel like an idiot...	(400)
"Switched to Overload"  (That other fucking first person narrative) Actually, I like this one better than the one above it ...  Even if it did wind up being two first person narratives in one story.  o.O	4900	6/27