lagilman: coffee or die (madness toll)
[personal profile] lagilman
Peanut butter chips for breakfast seemed like a good idea when I woke up craving sugar.... but then I balanced it out with a homemade nonfat yogurt strawberry-banana smoothie. So that's okay, right?

Despite the meh yesterday overall, I still managed to get in about 1000 new words, and we're reaching a Turning Point. Yay. And there was Attempted Violence. And angst. Poor Bonnie. Life after college is just no fun at all. And then I did more words this morning, and then went off to do Away From Keyboard things, including having lunch with [livejournal.com profile] kradical during which we bitched about how slow our respective work is coming, and then parted to go hammer out More Words. Isn't it so exciting?

There's the thing about writing being a job that you don't realize until you're actually in The Life: sometimes it's just as crap as any other brain-eating job. The plot isn't making sense, the characters aren't behaving, you hate everything you type and sometimes even when everything's flowing, you just don't feel it.

This is where storytelling differs from Fine Art. We can't wait for inspiration to strike. When it's your job -- be it your sole job or side job -- you don't have that option. There are deadlines, and production schedules, and a carefully arranged publication master plan that, when one author delivers late, or defaults, has to be reworked madly to keep the system intact [some day I may do a post about that, dredging up all my scheduling horror stories from The Old Days.... any interest?]

So anyway, even on the meh days, the ones where you just want to crawl back into bed, or play tetris all day, or photocopy your posterior.... the writing still calls. The job still has to get done. (Of course, there is still time to play tetris. Or take a nap. Or, y'know, photocopy your posterior if that's what warms your cockles. Just don't let the boss see you.) We're the same as any other clock-watching office-dweller, in that regard. It's sort of comforting to think about: from my point of view, anyway. Some of you may now be depressed at how unglamorous and drudging alleged 'freedom' can be....

This, by the way, isn't a rant or a whinge. I knew the job was a job when I took it, and I'd honestly be damned uncomfortable [and remarkably unproductive] as an Artiste. Just commenting on the mehness of this week, and how I'm getting through it, one word at a time.

And I just got to use "truthiness" in dialogue. Go me! Suddenly, it starts to click again. 1400 words and rolling....


If I can hit 2,000+ [and, really, even if I don't] there is chicken pizza in the kitchen, waiting for me to add roasted garlic and fresh rosemary to it for dinner, and a bottle of chianti that really does need to be consumed. The week is definitely ending on an up note with that, yeah. :-)

Date: 2009-02-20 08:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] girasole.livejournal.com
This was a great post to read, Suri. Not only that, but the more you write about writing, the more I love to read it. More please.

I am completely crazed. I am editing about zillion (brilliant) web pages on gaming in libraries; teaching forty graduate students in YA literature online (which in the end, is all writing); and a pile of book reviews approaching dangerously overdue. But it is all words, and they need to be my words, and they need to happen. Now. Even if I would rather be on Facebook and iTunes (shiny! new! music! shiny! Old! music!)

edited for typos. Sigh.
Edited Date: 2009-02-20 08:53 pm (UTC)

and another thing

Date: 2009-02-20 08:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] girasole.livejournal.com
If you can write a post about how the publishing process works, and the time it takes, and will allow me to use it, I would love that. My graduate students are librarians, teachers, and almost-librarians, and they have NO FUCKING CLUE how publishing works, and I don't really have time to teach them. So if I could point them to a post of yours, or if you would let me post it in class, that would be great.

Date: 2009-02-20 08:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mevennen.livejournal.com
Yes, it's like anything else. Sheer drudgery at times, and you wonder why you bother.

But THEN...actually no, forget it, I still wonder why I bother. The remuneration is frequently appalling. I've been a pro writer for over a decade and it is, generally, just a job. It has considerable upsides but I am happier having something else to do as well, and frankly I wouldn't rule out giving it up completely and just writing the occasional short story.

Date: 2009-02-21 08:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mevennen.livejournal.com
Also I write better when I'm doing other things - I think it's partly the pressure that it imposes. I seem to have the kind of mind that will procrastinate if it's given endless time to do the allotted task.

I can't write for more than about 3-4 hours a day even if I have no other work. I agree with you about burn-out. I think we all have a kind of inner word limit, in rather the same way that our hair will only grow to a certain length. Some people (I call them bastards) seem to have a word limit of 6K or up. Mine's about 3K, but it is a stretch.

Date: 2009-02-20 10:03 pm (UTC)

Date: 2009-02-21 08:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fakefrenchie.livejournal.com
I know how you feel. As you know, I edit and translate scientific articles. Last week was pretty awful. I was later than I thought I would be finishing up some of the articles (which were pretty piss poorly written by the authors, which made me doubt my competence in English). But despite the downside, it's a fairly good fit. I make enough money to cover my needs and some of my wants, so it's all to the good.

Date: 2009-02-21 07:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] deire.livejournal.com
I don't think you can take days off even for Fine Art. You have to be there every day.

That reminds me of a powerful Erma Bombeck essay, a letter written from the point of view of an adoptive mother to the biological mother, about being a real mother. " 'Real is what hears 'I hate you' and still says no. Real is sitting next to a hospital bed... Real is what shows up every day.' "

If you want to be a real anything...showing up every day is what you do. Even if the best you can muster that day is a few minutes of crap. You still have to at least show up. Love is showing up every day.

And I admit, I'm still trying to show up consistently every day. I'm getting there. One piece of writing. One sketch. But at the moment? It's still crap.

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lagilman: coffee or die (Default)
Laura Anne Gilman

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