WIP – Page 5 – Deborah Makarios

October 13, 2013

Your Questions Answered

Or rather, since you have a terrible habit of not asking any, my questions answered. Last week I left you with a few questions regarding the commencement of my First Full Draft of the current WIP.

These included whether I could write 6,000 words in a day (by hand?), whether my story plan would work out (too soon to tell), and whether I would still be able to use my left hand (pretty much).

I took the precaution of fortifying my wrist with an elastic bandage, and in order to prevent my weak eye becoming a lazy eye (I’ve caught it slacking off a few times lately) I wrapped a strip of challis around my head, covering my good eye.

According to the Caped Gooseberry, this made me look like a superhero. (Ever notice how you don’t get plain heroes any more? It’s super or nothing. Go big or go home, I guess.)

Whether this helped prevent distraction (it was on the window side of my head) I do not know, but I did manage to write 3,721 words. A far cry from the 6,000 I was aiming for, but a solid start nonetheless.

As the challis did such a good job, I plan to use the idea again – although since the challis itself is already doing double-duty in my wardrobe (as a sash and a bandanna) I’ve supplied myself with some other fabric to make a similar garment (garment? accessory?) from.
It’s basically black, with a grey and gold scrolling holly leaf pattern on it. Very piratical.

Unfortunately, the DDJ has done what its mummy always told it and shared, so I now have Ye Olde Office Cold. Here’s hoping it doesn’t turn into ~~zombieism~~ bronchitis again.

I suspect 6,000 words will not be an option tomorrow, or even 3,721, but I’ll do what I can. I’ll do something.
Even a tiny step forward is better than standing still, blowing your brains out through your nose…

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.

July 13, 2013

Riding the Rollercoaster

Life is a rollercoaster: one moment you’re soaring with elation and the next moment you’re hurking up your guts.

Life has been very rollercoastery for me of late – roaring up the incline with sparkly new ideas for my WIP, and then plummeting down in despair as I realise I don’t have the physical or emotional resources to do it justice (or do it at all) while I’m working full time at the DDJ.

At least this week, and when you’re tired and stressed and over-emotional, what other week is there?
At times like this, a sturdy support structure is essential. (Rollercoaster without supports? BAD.) Enter the Caped Gooseberry, my personal live-in hero. (Silhouette has been edited to protect his identity.)

Progress is slow – very slow – and emotional outbreaks of self-doubt, -disdain and -despair still occur. But little by little I keep moving. I am not writing 2,500 words a week. Maybe I will again in time, but right now 500 a week would be heartening. I’m holding my goals lightly.

This is also an important time to read encouraging and revitalising advice. Kristen Lamb is one of my favourites for a boost when I’m depressed about my lack of progress, combining as she does reassurance and a swift kick in the pants.

I’ve also recently re-read this helpful dollop of advice from Chuck Wendig (be warned: self-confessed NSFW), which I found via A Cat of Impossible Colour.

Highlights for me include Stop Running Away (why do I do that??), Stop Worrying, Stop Thinking It Should Be Easier (but why is it so hard?), Stop Deprioritizing Your Wordsmithy (closely related to Stop Running Away) and of course Stop the Moping, Whining, Blaming, Lamenting and Being Afraid.

I don’t know that I agree with Wendig about Stop Dreaming, but at least I am sufficiently in touch with reality (I visit alternate weekends) not to start “Epic 23-book fantasy cycles!”

So if the contents of your peritoneum are the only thing moving upward as the rest of your life shoots down, take courage. You aren’t the only one in the rollercoaster car. Tighten your grip, scream if it helps, and hold on til the track turns upward.