Currently, I’m going over a sci-fi mystery novella. I haven’t finished the first draft and since not touching it for over six months I have forgotten what I had written, however, I know what needs to happen etc. I’m editing as I go to get back into the story. Once finished, I’m not sure if I’m going to go back and edit that shit out of it or go onto finishing other first drafts (I have a bazillion). I don’t think I’ll be publishing another story this year, but who knows.
August is coming up in Edinburgh and that means having only one day off a week and everything being balls to the walls dealing with all the extra tourists. I doubt I’ll have time to write or edit. Afterwards, I should get back into everything.
I’ve bought myself a planner/calendar that shows the entire month so that I can visualise my time and maybe that’ll help me get back into things. I did a similar thing in uni and that helped me keep ahead of my assignments. I could just be the thing to motivate me into getting back my mojo.
There are some people in life who call themselves writers, though not many of them seem to produce anything. Everyone seems to have a book in them, but really they are just romanticising the idea of being a writer. Being a writer seems to be something special, I mean it is, but most people do not know how hard it is to earn that title. And I’m not talking about the actual writing.
From an early age, I like creating stories. It comes naturally to me. I don’t know how, and when looking at both sides of my family, no one else does either. I seem to have sprouted out of nowhere (I’m so totally my parents’ child though). I grew up an only child and also turned out to be a loner too. So in combination with having a somewhat decent writing ability as well, I guess I gravitated towards expressing my stories in words and not another artform.
The ultimate end goal of me self-publishing my words is to create a steady income stream that allows me to write full time. Until then, it’s hospitality work and eustress that pushes me to write around the edges of my life. This means that I forgo other things such as socialising and enjoying my time off with whatever normal people do with their time.
I think I am very fortunate that my hobby of writing is pretty much free or low cost in terms of materials needed to produce anything. But that doesn’t mean its easy. A year ago I was unstoppable in terms of writing. I could produce one to two thousand words a day and then bam! I hit burnout and everything stopped. I had all this free time, tones of irritability and a bucket of frustration at myself. I was doing so well, what happened? I had many unfinished manuscripts, knew the order of scenes, but wat r werds? I literally couldn’t spell properly for months. My facebook chat logs were an embarrassment. You’d think I never graduated primary school.
My brain and body were tied together and while the body was capable, the brain was done. No words from me. Good thing I had a job to occupy my time and give me money or I’d be screwed. I’m not a freelancer because I don’t really want to work with people and I want to spend all my time writing for myself. I’m not going to push out a ton of stories by writing other people’s ones. Do it yourself. Make time or fail.