...and she conquers the beast. (insert roaring crowd here)

Writing a book is like an adventure. To begin with it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster. -Winston Churchill

That's right, kids. Just over 4000 words today, and the book is DONE. It clocked in at just over 60k words, which is about average for the genre, and for me. Less than I expected with the new ending that occurred to me tonight. I was sure I'd be up all night, with the ending I had planned before. This one's better, though. I'm quite happy with it. I'm also shocked--I didn't expect to finish it until near the end of the month. I expected at least another 10k words. It is what it is, though.

Of course, I'm already thinking of little things that need fixed, things that could be added or subtracted here or there. But that's a job for tomorrow. Or maybe I'll actually let myself rest for a day.

Maybe.

Now, though, my happy little writer self is going to get a shower and go to bed. After I do a little happy dance, naturally.

DONE!

Ahhh...

Listening to: The Rosebuds, "Let's Hold Hands and Fight"

So far tonight I have:

• Found a giant plot hole, like, the size of Kansas--and found a way to patch it.
• Figured out just how my MC is going to get out of this hole I dug her in--and from which I was certain, pretty much from the beginning, no escape was possible. One of those transcendent moments of writing that keep me going.
• Stood on the high-wire, juggling a dozen balls, six trout, and a watermelon, knowing there's no net to catch me if I fall--and gotten to the halfway point, where if I can just keep this up, I know I can make it, and maybe even make it look good.
  
• Paid my credit card bill. Hey, it was on my to-do list.
• Written 2,942 words.
• Fallen back in love with this book. I'll admit, it lost its shine for a few days there, when I wasn't even entirely sure I could salvage it--but now I adore it.

I'd say that's a pretty good night, but I'm not done. Not by a long shot.

Finishing...ALMOST

Listening to: The Mountain Goats, "Dilaudid" (Awesome song with awesome strings)

So I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel with my current project. And I've once again reached that point where I want to finish it now, tonight. Just type and type until my fingers can't stand it anymore and the keyboard is in flames.

I have other things on my to do list (for example, I'm certain I have no pants to wear to work tomorrow), and I have a long day at work tomorrow ("Hey, we need to get this document done by tomorrow--you can do that, right?"), but I might just do it. I've (technically) been working on this thing since February, and it's time to be DONE. An all-nighter just might be in order.

We'll see what happens.

Getting Into It

Listening to: Scary Kids Scaring Kids, "Degenerates"

When I first started my current project -- working titled Freya -- I was excited but wary. I really wasn't sure I could make it work. The original idea seemed like it couldn't go farther than novella territory, and I could only think of two possible ways it could all end, neither of which I liked at all (hint: both involved the death of a very important character). But I was so caught up in the narrator's voice, right from page 1, that I couldn't help myself. I had to see where it went. I had to follow her down her path for at least a while, because she was just that awesome.*

Then practicality (and uncertainty) kicked in, and I abandoned Freya for another project, one that had more potential but was infinitely scarier because it was several miles from my usual stuff. It still had some of the same elements, but was also far from my comfort zone. Also, it required a great deal of research, as well as a voice I wasn't sure I could handle yet.

Then, certain that I wasn't quite ready for that particular novel, I abandoned that for another idea. An awesome, fun, different idea. That's the one I'm doing for NaNo. And occasionally in there, I'd work on the sequel to to my last novel, or the first idea I came up with after I finished the last novel. That's right, folks--last winter/spring, I had no less than five things I wanted desperately to write.

But Freya's voice still called to me. I would occasionally, feeling like a little cheater, open up the document and read the first few pages, and next thing I knew I was adding to it. She's addictive, that one. And back and forth we went, until I started my job and realized I had to commit myself to just one novel--or go absolutely crazy.

I asked two people, both of whom knew the details of all three ideas, and they both said, without hesitation, "Freya."

Somewhere in all this, I'd taken Freya in a different direction, one that had far more potential. It wasn't easy--something about the project didn't lend itself to change very well. It took a lot of long showers to get there. But I was at least somewhat confident, once I found the right path, that it had some possibilities.

I never quite fell in love like I have with other novels, though. I was addicted, yes, and I enjoyed the writing, but something held me from falling headfirst into it all. That was a problem. I need that feeling, at least for the first 30k words. After that, it's a matter of, "Well, I've come this far, I pretty much have to finish." Because, you know, once you reach the middle, it's not as fun anymore--it's a long, hard slog to the finish line, tripping over your own feet the whole way.

Freya, somehow, always surprises me. She did it every time I stealthily opened up the document last spring, certain that her voice couldn't be as addictive as I'd thought. And she's done it again now.

Because, nearly 50k words in, I'm head-over-heels. I love this damn book.

What's the change? I don't know for sure. I added a character that I really like, and that helped. And the encouragement I've gotten from those two people who pushed me to focus on Freya has helped a great deal.** Also, I've shown the first page to my brother, who is decidedly not the YA paranormal romance type. He's more the Tom Robbins type, on the rare occasions that he even reads fiction these days. He forgot to stop at the end of page 1, continued on a few more pages, then kind of woke up and realized what he'd done. "I could definitely keep reading this," he said.

Yes, I thrive on outside approval. Hey, I'm a flawed human being. What can I say.

This writing thing never fails to surprise me. Every novel is different. Whereas my last one was like a teenage romance (in the writing experience, not the genre itself), all furious adoration and the hectic joy of first love, Freya has been more like an arranged marriage with a really great guy that I didn't know. I wasn't sure it was a good idea at first, and I tried to back away. But then people pushed me toward it, and I was drawn to the challenge, and the next thing I knew, I was committed. And it took me a while, but eventually I realized its potential. And got really, really excited.

So that's where I am, now. Seven months after I started the damn thing, I finally love it.

Took me long enough.



*This is not boasting. I take no credit for her. She is awesome all on her own, with no help from me. I did not create her--she sprang fully formed from my head, like Athena from Zeus. No, I'm not comparing myself to Zeus.

**One night not too long ago, I was writing while TH was reading Twilight (yes, I'm a mean wife who makes her husband read YA when he'd rather be reading Palahniuk or Myron Cope's autobiography). I asked him how it was going, and his gaze slid to my laptop. "What are you working on?" he asked. "Freya, of course," I answered. A look of longing crossed his face. "I want to read that. Hurry up and finish." Oh, my cold little writer's heart grew three times in size that night!

Done.

Wednesday: 2000 words

Thursday: 3600 words

...and DONE (Clocking in at 62,700, ~3000 words fewer than I estimated--but the total will fluctuate when I start editing).

I always sprint at the beginning of a book, then slow down and pace myself (sometimes too much) in the middle, and then super-sprint to the end.

I...I can't type anymore. My hands need a break. Be back soon.

Update

Listening to: Guster, "Airport Song"

Not really much to update.

Book 2: The agent wait continues. It has now been one month and two days since I sent my full, on request. I'm doing pretty well distracting myself with other things, although how well I do this depends on the day of the week and the time. E.g., mornings are good, but afternoons kinda suck.

Book 3: The revisions continue. Wrote 850 thrilling words yesterday, most of which I will probably delete on another revision.

Virginia: Spent a lot of time last week being around other human beings--a nice change of pace, that--and now I have to get used to being alone all day, all over again. In other words, a lot of people have been getting random phone calls and long, rambling voicemails from me during the day.

Fleas: I think we got rid of them all, but I've become incredibly paranoid. I peer closely at the cat every time he scratches himself (which is more frequently than he should), and I just discovered a bunch of bites on my left calf. Not sure if they were there before, and I just didn't notice them, or if they might be new. We couldn't possibly still have fleas, though--we used three foggers, vaccuumed every inch of the apartment, washed every item of clothing we own and the cat's bedding, sprayed flea stuff underneath the furniture and on the bed, and the cat's Frontline should still be in effect. I really, really hope they're gone. That was a bad day.

Not much else to report.

Back to the writing.

Mark it Down

Just taking a quick break to say I hit 35,000 words today.

Oh...and a year ago tomorrow, I started my second book (currently working on the third).

Back to work.

Plowin' Thru

Listening to: Guster, "I'm Through" (w00t! New Guster EP out!)

Sunday: 1500 words, handwritten.
Monday: Typed up Sunday's words.
Tuesday: 500 words.

Okay. So that's my progress for this week so far. I'm really trying to switch from handwriting to typing. The handwriting, as much as I love it, just takes far too much time. And I hit the 30,000 word mark. Yay!

It seems like there was something else I wanted to blog about...but now I can't recall. Maybe I'll be back later today with more.

-K.

What Did I Get Myself Into?

Listening to: Dispatch, "What Do You Wanna Be"

Over at Diana's blog, many writers have made a pledge to write 100 words a day, every day, for the month of April. They can write more than that, of course, but the minimum is 100 words.

I've joined their ranks.

As I explained over there, I needed this. These past few days, I've been avoiding my novel. I've passed the 25k word mark, and I know--I know--that the easy part is over. Now comes the part where I agonize over plot twists, fret about all the various threads I have going, and worry whether I can make it all...make sense. It'll still be fun, sure, but it'll be work. This past month or so, it hasn't felt like work. I'm also afraid, of course, that I'm going to royally screw it up.

So, I pledge to write 100 words a day, every day, no matter where I am or what I'm doing. Today, for instance, I have to type up all the words I wrote earlier this week, go get my driver's license renewed, call the vet and make an appointment for Shakespeare, and I'd like to do a bit of shopping. But somewhere in there will be my new 100 words--even if they're written between 11:45 and midnight.

I'll do my best to note my progress here, just for accountability's sake. Even if it's just a short post to say, "I did it." So keep an eye on me, will ya? =)

-K.

When the Flame Dies

Oh, it's a tragic story, and one that has been told many times before. Alas, I'm going to tell it again.

Girl writes novel. Girl, while writing novel, inevitably falls in love with novel and characters therein. Several months of joyous writing fly by, every one of them packed to the brim with sweet memories.

And then...girl finishes novel. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with elation and tears. Okay, maybe not tears, but I got a little misty. Girl edits and revises novel repeatedly.

And the love...oh, the love...it's still there, but faded somewhat, like one's favorite old shirt that has seen too many washings.

Girl starts a new novel while previous novel is with critique partners. This is when the betrayal occurs.

Girl finds herself falling for this new novel, who swaggered in with a twinkle in his eye and dirty thoughts in his mind. She can't help herself. She spends her days and nights plotting--literally--and thinking about the characters in new novel, and her adoration grows with every hour.

At the back of her mind, though, that last novel sits patiently, awaiting her return. "Please, come back to me," he whispers. "Make all the necessary revisions and start sending me out before the postage rate increases. Please....please? Did all those wondrous months we spent together mean nothing? Am I just dust and ashes now, just an old flame that has died out? I must mean more to you than that...."

But the new novel, that scoundrel, calls to her. "I'm pretty and shiny and new, and deep down, you know I'm better than that other guy," he says with a devious grin. "You can forget about him for a little while, can't you? We're having so much fun...."

Girl looks at old novel. Yes, they had a wonderful time together. And yes, he deserves a chance to go out into the world and try his best to make her proud.

Girl looks at new novel. So shiny and pretty...so sparkly. So fun. So awesome in every respect. But that old one....well, some of her loyalties still lie with him. He was good to her, after all.

With a pained sigh, she opens a document...

...and starts revising.

A Public Service Announcement

Two things* the public should know, just in case:

1. I heard voices in my head last night as I drifted off to sleep. The voices of my characters. Most people might think I'm crazy, but this is a good thing. If they're in my head, then I must be in their heads. Still, it's a bit crazy-making.
   
   
2. I'm totally head-over-heels in love with my protagonist's love interest/sort-of-enemy. Like, every time I write about him, I melt. It's frightening when you fall for a totally fictional character that no one has ever really met, who is the product of your own mind. Or, looking at it that way...maybe it's entirely natural. No matter what, though, I feel the urge to swoon whenever he walks into the fictional room or knocks at the fictional door. That can't be entirely normal.
   
   
3. These things are all good things, because I need the distraction right now.**

That's pretty much it. Now I'm off to swoon and melt, so as to get the voices out of my head.

*Well, maybe two things. I make no promises, because three is such a magic number. I may not be able to help myself.
**See. Told you I couldn't be trusted. Why would you trust someone who hears voices and lays dying at the feet of someone she completely made up? You should really know better.

Progress

Sun., 3/4: 2,600 words

Wed., 3/8: 3,200 words

CURRENT TOTAL: 10, 800 words

And that is why I haven't been blogging. I'm in the beginning phase of the novel, when it's all long writing marathons during which I physically can't stop writing. I like to push myself as far and fast as possible in the beginning, because I know that, about 10,000 words from now, I'll hit...

*cue scary music*

THE MIDDLE.

*Dum dum dum DUM...*

I've also been working with a new crit partner, exchanging about three chapters/week of our most recently completed novels. Once we're done with that, I'll get to work submitting mine. So, there's that to look forward to/dread with every fiber of my being.

I've got another marathon scheduled tonight, so I'm keeping this short. Just wanted to post about what I've been up to.

On Starting Over...Again.

So I'm starting this novel for the third time. I keep on starting it, getting a few thousand words in, and realizing I want to change something huge--like the POV or something.

Unlike previous novels, which I would always want to "reboot" when I got to the middle or so, I'm not second-guessing myself when I start over. I just keep on writing until it feels right. On this third try, I think it feels right, because I'm finally excited about the story, and my writer-brain is kicking in. You know, the part of your brain that starts creating dialog or devising plot elements when you're watching TV or driving. I love my writer-brain. I missed it so, for the many years it was gone. The past year-and-a-half, during which I found what I truly love to write and my writer-brain returned from its lengthy vacation, has been truly wonderful. I find myself once again looking forward to writing and using it as a reward--e.g., "You can write once you've cleaned the bathroom."

I think that the lack of second-guessing means something. It means I'm progressing as a writer, because I'm willing to take risks and "waste time" until I get the freaking thing right. Rather than vacillating over this choice or that one, I just plow through with fingers crossed, knowing that I can change it all later. Revision has become a huge part of my writing.

This is a weird, rambly post. Sorry for that, my brain is in a weird place right now. And I'm off to clean the bathroom.

let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

*Sigh*.

That was a nice long break. I had Christmas with my family, helped out at my sister's, had New Year's with my husband and some close, wonderful friends, went to my sister's to help out again, and saw the in-laws.

Got crapometered. Miss Snark's comments, while short and to the point, will help out a great deal with my query letters.

Finished editing the last book, started the new book. I'm loving every second of it, for now.

Used some gift cards to go crazy on Amazon...got Uglies, On Writing, Magic or Madness, The Elements of Style, 78/14 Reasons, and Brother Odd. I was a good girl, and started with Elements of Style last night, in spite of all temptation to read any of the others. I know you can't believe I didn't already have a copy--doesn't every writer? Well, I did...but I lost it before I could finish it. So now I'm plowing through, determined to soak up every bit of knowledge that I can. It's kind of exhausting...there's a lot packed into that little book.

Used other gift cards to go shopping on Sunday. I got the most fabulous pair of high-heeled, brown leather, knee-high lace-up boots for $31.99...so with my gift card, I paid $11.99. Not bad, says I. Not bad at all! Can't wait to wear them with a cute skirt, although they'll work fine with jeans, too.

And now, it's snowing. I'm not a big fan of snow, having grown up very near PA's snow belt, but I feel sort of...relieved. It's been a really weird winter, and the warm weather, while nice, has thrown me off a bit. It felt so right to look outside this morning and see a thin layer of snow covering my car and the driveway.

Oh! And I'm trying to quit smoking again. This is Day Three, and thus far, I haven't killed anyone yet! Yaaaaay me! I even went without the patch from dinner until bedtime last night. It actually might stick this time, I think. I'm kind of excited about reaching each next milestone, and being able to say, "A week without a smoke..." "Two weeks..." "A month...". I can see myself as a non-smoker. That, my friends, is a first. I like it.

Now, off to the salt mines...er, the wonderful next book that I'm really enjoying, even if I'm kind of stuck in Chapter Two, unable to find a smooth way to slip in all this information that I need to get in there. Or something.

Bye!

-Kristin

From the Title to the Plot...

Okay. So, as I careen towards the finish line on my first editing pass, I've been fretting about the idea for my next book. I can't help it. I just feel like the idea...isn't what I want. It's good (maybe), and I could make it interesting (I think). But I don't want it.

The other subject of frequent fretting has been the title of my current book. I don't think it's very good...and that might have something to do with the fact that IT'S NON-EXISTENT. Yep, that's right. I came up with the idea in April, started writing it in May, finished in November, and have been editing since then...and no title. Crap.

So I'm in the shower yesterday, and I'm thinking about titles. Just running stuff through my head, thinking about the book and what it's about, free-associating a little bit.

And I come up with a title.

But not for the current book.

I think of this title, and a plot immediately springs into my head, nearly fully formed. The title would be perfect for that plot...it's beautiful. It's spectacular. It's...probably already been done.

So I don't let myself get too excited. I finish showering, dry off, and dress. Then I dash off to the laptop, reminding myself that it's such a great idea, someone must have come up with it already. And they must have used my title, too, because the title is so damn perfect. There could be NO OTHER TITLE for this book.

Hop onto Amazon.

Nope. Free and clear.

So there you have it. I did the happy dance as I dried my hair (the cat was not amused). Heck, I've been doing the happy dance for about 24 hours now, because I think I can do it, and I can't wait to start. I still have no title for my current book, but...

Oh well!

I'm off to edit, because the sooner I finish the current, untitled work, the sooner I can start on the next one. I'm not going to rush the editing, because it'll take as long as it needs to take...

But I'm going to get it done. And then, in the new year, I'll start working on the next one. Which I finally have.

Happy dance!

-Kristin

Can't sleep, words will eat me

I'm at That Point in the book. That Point being the part where I'm constantly terrified that I'm going to Royally Screw It Up. I write in spite of, or perhaps because of, this feeling.

It feels like being on a tightrope without a net. Although I know I have a net: revision. I will eventually revise and revise and revise until I'm walking the tightrope without even a glance at the ground, back straight, firm grasp on that pole-thingy tightrope walkers hold. Is this metaphor working? I'm not sure.

I am also reassured by the fact that other writers feel this way, and published ones, at that. And I'm reassured by this quotation from John Irving, which keeps me going even on my darkest days:

If you don't feel that you are possibly on the edge of humiliating yourself, of losing control of the whole thing, then possibly what you are doing isn't very vital. If you don't feel like you are writing somewhat over your head, why do it? If you don't have some doubt of your authority to tell this story, then you are not trying to tell enough.

There it is. It's like a breath of fresh air into my cobweb-filled skull. That, and this Samuel Beckett quotation, which I promised myself I would keep in my head through this entire novel:

Ever tried.
Ever failed.
No matter.
Try again.
Fail again.
Fail better.

I swore to myself, when I first started writing this novel, that I would fail better than I did the last time. Even if it's not the one that gets me published, I will have accomplished a great deal if I can just fail better. And then on the next one, I'll fail even better than that. And I will keep on failing, until I succeed.

That, my friends, is what writing is about. Hell...that's what life is about.

-Kristin

Typo of the Day

"Kendra tried to smile, but her lisp wouldn't cooperate."

Beautiful.