Word Count – Page 6 – Deborah Makarios

September 15, 2013

Crunching the Numbers Again

I have a plan.
It’s not much of a plan, but (as they say) it’s better than a kick in the head.

The plan goes as follows.
Monday 16: write outline of novel.
Monday 23: do in-depth character work.
Monday 30: write more detailed outline.
October, November and December: WRITE ENTIRE NOVEL.

Yes.
I know it’s not earth-shatteringly brilliant, but really, have you ever been kicked in the head?

The first timeI calculated how fast I needed to write this first draft to finish it by the end of the year (this year, smart aleck) it worked out as 2,500 words a week.
Now I figure having three months to write the first draft means I need to write about eight thousand words a week. Over a thousand a day.

Naturally, I may not be able to write it all on a Monday (hand cramp can be an issue after the first couple of thousand words), but then, writing a little instalment every morning may serve to keep it in the top of my mind better.
It’s just unfortunate that it takes me so long to get into the swing of the story – I’ve just got my hands full of threads when it’s time to set them down and head off for work.

Perhaps I need to develop a key – something that tells my subconscious to snap to it, this is writing time. Perhaps a rather swashbuckling hat. But which?

The jester’s cap? Certainly uninhibited, but the bells could prove distracting.
Distraction wouldn’t be a problem with the bonnet – rather like wearing blinkers in that respect – but it does tend to the missish in personality.
The little furry hat is personable, to be sure, but one does tend to forget that one is wearing it.
Perhaps it will have to be the black felt picture hat, with red roses and a plume of peacock.

If nothing else, it should provide some protection from the kicks to the head.

* * *

Do you have a key or cue to your subconscious that it’s time for the creativity to flow? Do you have a plan that seems like insanity itself? I’d love to hear from you!

September 9, 2013

The Great Silence

Not the monastic zip-lip after Compline, or even the rather fascinating documentary about the Grande Chartreuse (proof that monks do indeed use the Alps as a snow-slide). No, I refer to my lamentable lack of posts lately – due in large part to having been away for the weekend to recover from the after-effects of moving house.

Today, however, I was at home, and have finally unpacked the books! It took some time to find space for them all, but in the end the deed was done.

One of my favourite things about our new house is the study (or library) – an entire room for reading and writing! Unprecedented luxury. One long wall of this room is entirely covered in shelves, so I didn’t even need to have much recourse to the four bookshelves we brought with us. The result of my afternoon’s labours is something like this:

There is one free-standing shelf containing my mystery collection (a collection of mysteries, that is – hard to collect something if you don’t know what it is) and writing books. There’s also a lady’s reclining armchair (designed for those of us whose legs are of moderate length) and my little writing desk (aka the elegant bedside table).

Happily, these are now accessible as the thicket of book-boxes has been cleared away. The empty boxes are now rendering the laundry largely non-navigable, but that’s not such a problem. Translation: I don’t read in the laundry.

Next Monday I should be able to get going on the writing in earnest.

For, to confess (is not the internet the great confessional, except without penance, privacy, or more often than not, penitence?) I have not written a word in weeks. This past week I’ve spent my extra time in the morning asleep, and I can’t even remember the last time I did morning pages. Or updated the word count spreadsheet.

OK, I checked. The last time I updated the spreadsheet was the 10th of August (yes, a month ago) and the last time I recorded anything other than blog posts was on the 24th of July.

I’m pretty sure I’ve written something since then, but yikes.

Any advice for getting back into the swing of things, or suggestions of appropriate penance?
R.S.V.P!

September 1, 2013

My Secret Weapon

As you may have gathered from some of my previous posts (especially this one and this one), we are moving house.

In fact, we moved house yesterday, and now exist amid a confused welter of furniture and boxes. Everything takes twice as long as usual, because each thing you need is in a different box, and the box’s label is probably not closely related to its contents.

Needless to say, with all the insanity of the past month (of which moving was but a part), I have fallen prey once more to the ravening beast that is procrastination.

I am madly behind on my Cunning Plan (all right, experience has proved it less cunning than a fox who’s just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University, but it wasn’t bad) to finish the first draft of my WIP by the end of the year.

However!

I have a secret weapon.
Well, it would be secret if I hadn’t told everyone who would listen, and I am now telling you:
Mondays.

The trick is to not work them.
Not paid work, that is.

As of now, I work Tuesdays to Fridays at the DDJ. Saturdays are for housework, Sundays for rest and Mondays for writing.

I am hoping that I can still make it to the end of the first draft by the end of the year. I’ll have to do the calculations (and find which boxes my writing stuff is in) but I am hopeful.

Four months to go. Four months of Mondays.