It's actually been six months since I've done any serious writing and guess what? I'm kind of rusty. One sentence will be clunky, the next will be brilliant, and then I'll have one that smell's like urine-soaked landfill. But it's all coming back to me. Ever so slowly.
And most importantly -- I'm loving it.
So you're probably wondering 'why'. What have I been doing for the last six months? Cuz it's not like I haven't been engaged in writerly pursuits: I've been editing, revising, reworking, and doing additional drafts of the book that's finally in submissions. (Plus a whole lot of critting.) So yeah, 'editing' and 'revising' and 'additional drafts' are all pretty much the same thing. But I've done so much of it that it feels like sixty two different steps.
And now I'm on to the good stuff.
First drafts are fun as hell, and if my history holds true, I'll probably gear up to about twenty-five thousand words a week. Once I get my sea legs back, of course. Usually when I write first drafts, I do it with feverish intensity -- I throw myself into it everyday -- neglecting things like blogs and email and children. I think about my story every waking moment, and I lean on it with all my weight, trying to squeeze out every last twist of plot juice. Next to Guinness, plot-juice is my favorite flavor. (Creative-honey is my third.)
As you can probably tell, this whole 'first-draft' part of the writing process makes me giddy. Inside my head. I feel like I've suddenly been given superpowers -- and in a way I have. When it comes to being a writer, only the actual 'writing' gives you that kind of high. Am I right?
And so, my writer/blogger friends, I'm gonna ask for your forgiveness in advance, cuz I have no plans of checking the blogs with any regularity. But I do still love and adore you guys, and I hope you'll still be here in six weeks when I put Solhades in a drawer.
(Zokutou question: do you have to paste the code every time you want to update your word cout? If so, I might not post my progress with any regularity either)