It's a quarter to four (or is that three?), There's no one in the place . . .
According to my watch, it’s 6.15 a.m. and I am definitely the only living creature awake in this place.
A few minutes ago I put the final few changes into a book, plopped the manuscript in a box, addressed it and positioned the lovely thing by the front door so I can stagger out to the shipping office first . . . Oh, yeah, it’s already first thing in the morning. First I’ll crash for around three hours, then I’ll stagger out.
How do I feel on a morning when I finish a novel? Tired. In need of an eye exam, a massage, a chiropractor, and intensive physical therapy. Hungry. Thirsty. And blooming euphoric!
I can’t even remember how many times I’ve done this. I do know that with each book, at about the tenth chapter, I go through a crisis. “I’m a fraud and now everyone’s going to find out. I can’t write, I never could write, I’m a failure–washed up.” At the two-thirds mark I recognize I’m writing a different book from the one I started and will have to make the first few chapters match the rest of the book because I got so much smarter as I wrote along.
Moan? Do I moan and whine sometimes? You bet I do. Of course, I do work harder than anyone else, and suffer more for my art, and I’m so much more temperamental than any other writer!
I have many more highs than lows.
Each time I come to work I think how much I like my cozy office–even if it does resemble a garbage dump on occasion. I bring my huge mug of coffee, turn on my music, fiddle, fiddle, fiddle, and off I go. I take something I once heard very seriously: If there’s nothing on the page, there’s nothing on the page and there’s nothing you can do about it one way or the other. So I always plunk my fingers on the keys and get started, and I don’t stop (except to refill the coffee or whatever) until I’ve reached my page goal.
This was not supposed to be the topic of my blog today, but sometimes you go with your gut. I’ll be back soon to write about the wonderful time Jayne and I had on Saturday at Borders in Redmond Town Center. Guided by star bookseller, Andrea Roe, we spent two hours with a great group of writers and non-writers in conversation about publishing. The time flew.
The things that make us incredibly happy can be simple or complex. When do you feel so pumped you can hardly sit still?
Stella
A few minutes ago I put the final few changes into a book, plopped the manuscript in a box, addressed it and positioned the lovely thing by the front door so I can stagger out to the shipping office first . . . Oh, yeah, it’s already first thing in the morning. First I’ll crash for around three hours, then I’ll stagger out.
How do I feel on a morning when I finish a novel? Tired. In need of an eye exam, a massage, a chiropractor, and intensive physical therapy. Hungry. Thirsty. And blooming euphoric!
I can’t even remember how many times I’ve done this. I do know that with each book, at about the tenth chapter, I go through a crisis. “I’m a fraud and now everyone’s going to find out. I can’t write, I never could write, I’m a failure–washed up.” At the two-thirds mark I recognize I’m writing a different book from the one I started and will have to make the first few chapters match the rest of the book because I got so much smarter as I wrote along.
Moan? Do I moan and whine sometimes? You bet I do. Of course, I do work harder than anyone else, and suffer more for my art, and I’m so much more temperamental than any other writer!
I have many more highs than lows.
Each time I come to work I think how much I like my cozy office–even if it does resemble a garbage dump on occasion. I bring my huge mug of coffee, turn on my music, fiddle, fiddle, fiddle, and off I go. I take something I once heard very seriously: If there’s nothing on the page, there’s nothing on the page and there’s nothing you can do about it one way or the other. So I always plunk my fingers on the keys and get started, and I don’t stop (except to refill the coffee or whatever) until I’ve reached my page goal.
This was not supposed to be the topic of my blog today, but sometimes you go with your gut. I’ll be back soon to write about the wonderful time Jayne and I had on Saturday at Borders in Redmond Town Center. Guided by star bookseller, Andrea Roe, we spent two hours with a great group of writers and non-writers in conversation about publishing. The time flew.
The things that make us incredibly happy can be simple or complex. When do you feel so pumped you can hardly sit still?
Stella
posted at 6:53 AM
