Another week of writing in the books. Let’s see how I did.
Today’s quote comes from Andy Warhol.
Don’t think about making art, just get it done.
It’s rare you find a quote that perfectly encapsulates your writing process, but this single sentence from Andy Warhol pretty much describes how I go about my first drafts. I just want to get the story on the page and not worry about making it perfect. Sure, I do occasionally go back and fill in plot holes or fix continuity errors while I’m writing the first draft, but I save most of the refining for the revision(s) after the first draft is done. The primary reason I do this is I find it overwhelming to try and make the story perfect (or at least better) while I’m writing it. It just spikes my anxiety and self-doubt to a degree that kills my productivity, so I don’t do it, and that helps me get from first word to last more-or-less painlessly.
More good progress on Hell to Play last week. I wrote just over 8,700 words for a total of 23,000 and change for the manuscript. I’m not hitting my 10,000 words a week like I usually do, but I’ve kind of made peace with that. There are just so many outside distractions right now–and one BIG one–that I’m happy to be making any decent progress at all. Maybe I’ll work back up to 10,000 a week, but at this point I’m looking at having a first draft in twelve weeks. I can absolutely live with that.
Kind of a pathetic week for submissions.
Exciting, huh? One submission. I haven’t even gotten a rejection in weeks. The one submission last week gives me 33 for the year, which means I need to pick up the pace in May if I want to hit 100 subs by the end of the year.
I missed a few days again last week, but I think what I did write came out pretty good. Here are the two best in my humble opinion. As always, if you want to read my microfiction in real time, follow me on Twitter @Aeryn_Rudel.
Dying’s not so bad, but the #resurrection is a real shit sandwich. Each time I croak and return to life, there’s a new group of mortals convinced I’m the second coming. Sorry, folks, no messiah here. I’m just an accident-prone revenant, and this is my, uh, 94th(?) coming.
The ancient #ragpicker scavenged only the choicest bits. Castoff shreds that still held some magic, some life. He worked his finds into a shape dear to him but nearly forgotten. The final scrap was his tatterdemalion soul, and when he breathed his last, the child awoke.
Same as usual. Keep plugging away at the novel and get more submission out the door.
That was my week. How was yours?