I'm insane.
12 days until Camp NaNoWriMo, and I decide to do a blogging challenge?
After I said I would never again do one of these things?
And then I go and create one myself?
As usual, I'm going to skip straight past what's been going on in The Tree of Life, because most of you already know, and for those that don't...*sigh* It's mostly me having nervous breakdowns in the Chasm of Despair.
Anyway, what I plan to do this Camp is to work on the second draft of Dark Arcana: The Amber of Time.
Henry: Writing a second draft requires that you sort of write a first draft.
Quiet, Henry. You know nothing of such matters.
*Henry opens her mouth*
It's true. Muses don't.
Muses get to lounge about on comfortable chairs, chuck out ideas, and criticize as and when they please. It istheir minions we who get the unenviable task of finding plot holes (an experience akin to stepping in a land mine, except when you step in a land mine you get to go to the hospital), and filling out said plot holes.
In writer words, something I'd much rather not do.
That's why I went straight for the second draft. I have with me a plot pile, which is sort of wandering mental prose doodling, and which I suppose could be called a Zeroth draft. It can't be the first draft, because there's really no defined start and end point. I just started writing, and stopped when I got so deep in the Chasm of Despair that I started running out of dental floss.
And, in so many, many words, that's my plan for Camp: treat it like a first draft. Go through, make notes, and write down every single mental leap I make. Hopefully the end result will be something resembling enough of an outline, or an outright draft, that I can finally admit I've finished something.
*Henry starts laughing*
I have a special gif that shows how much my dear muse believes in me.
But I have a plan! That's P-L-N plan!
*Watches a giant plot bunny walking out of a field*
*Without moving its legs*
*Backwards*
I'm a believer in taking advantage of the Lapine Glomp. Ray Bradbury never worked on an idea until it came and bit him, and I find that the same strategy is working for me. This is quite different from not writing and waiting around for the muse. Muses never just show up. They need bait.
Henry: That's quite untrue! I show up all the time, and no beckoning needed!
Me: *raises eyebrow and puts out a heap of autopilot writing*
Henry: Something smells really good. I...must...follow...
I'll be writing. I'll be writing every day. I just won't force myself to work on Dark Arcana if it doesn't want to cooperate. I swear, writing is like trying to feed a running two year old. You don't run after the two year old. You let them come to you. (According to my mother, this really works. >_>)
Well.
Maybe I should get off this neverending blog post and go write actual story instead, before I resort to finding yet another silly gif to fill the big empty space.
At least it's not a silly gif. AND this album totally gets me in the mood for Dark Arcana. Shut up, Henry! This totally counts as homework!
12 days until Camp NaNoWriMo, and I decide to do a blogging challenge?
After I said I would never again do one of these things?
And then I go and create one myself?
As usual, I'm going to skip straight past what's been going on in The Tree of Life, because most of you already know, and for those that don't...*sigh* It's mostly me having nervous breakdowns in the Chasm of Despair.
Anyway, what I plan to do this Camp is to work on the second draft of Dark Arcana: The Amber of Time.
Henry: Writing a second draft requires that you sort of write a first draft.
Quiet, Henry. You know nothing of such matters.
*Henry opens her mouth*
It's true. Muses don't.
Muses get to lounge about on comfortable chairs, chuck out ideas, and criticize as and when they please. It is
In writer words, something I'd much rather not do.
That's why I went straight for the second draft. I have with me a plot pile, which is sort of wandering mental prose doodling, and which I suppose could be called a Zeroth draft. It can't be the first draft, because there's really no defined start and end point. I just started writing, and stopped when I got so deep in the Chasm of Despair that I started running out of dental floss.
And, in so many, many words, that's my plan for Camp: treat it like a first draft. Go through, make notes, and write down every single mental leap I make. Hopefully the end result will be something resembling enough of an outline, or an outright draft, that I can finally admit I've finished something.
*Henry starts laughing*
I have a special gif that shows how much my dear muse believes in me.
But I have a plan! That's P-L-N plan!
*Watches a giant plot bunny walking out of a field*
*Without moving its legs*
*Backwards*
I'm a believer in taking advantage of the Lapine Glomp. Ray Bradbury never worked on an idea until it came and bit him, and I find that the same strategy is working for me. This is quite different from not writing and waiting around for the muse. Muses never just show up. They need bait.
Henry: That's quite untrue! I show up all the time, and no beckoning needed!
Me: *raises eyebrow and puts out a heap of autopilot writing*
Henry: Something smells really good. I...must...follow...
I'll be writing. I'll be writing every day. I just won't force myself to work on Dark Arcana if it doesn't want to cooperate. I swear, writing is like trying to feed a running two year old. You don't run after the two year old. You let them come to you. (According to my mother, this really works. >_>)
Well.
Maybe I should get off this neverending blog post and go write actual story instead, before I resort to finding yet another silly gif to fill the big empty space.
No comments:
Post a Comment