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Random Gloats, Number ... Whatever - The Annals of Young Geoffrey: Hope brings a turtle [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Young Geoffrey

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Random Gloats, Number ... Whatever [Jan. 8th, 2008|11:32 pm]
Young Geoffrey
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I am starting to feel like a real writer, for the first time in, well, a lotta years.

Since the last week in November, I've managed to pound out close to 25,000 words - not quite 1,000 words a day, but close enough for jazz, and I've been getting more consistent in my productivity as time goes on.

In other words, writing has become the most important thing in my day. Though I still (metaphorically) spend too much time sharpening my pencils before hitting the ol' keyboard, I've reached the point (or, god help me, a point?) where I pretty much know I'll write when I sit down to do so.

What's becoming difficult, though, is the urge to edit.

Back in the old days, when I composed on a manual typewriter and copies existed as carbon when they existed at all, re-writing meant re-typing. You couldn't just scroll back and spend and afternoon correcting a couple of paragraphs, or even a chapter - you had to re-type everything.

Anyway, part of my new pattern, after my day's work is done, is to lay back, stroke the cat and read or watch a video, with a questionable degree of concentration. During those times, it is far from uncommon that revisions occur to me - from small details to major plot changes, all of these things come to mind.

And it takes effort for me to say "No!" and refuse to rise from the couch. It takes effort to merely take pen in hand and scribble a note for future reference, rather than to run to the computer and wreak havoc on that, already written.

What takes even more effort comes the next day. When my Inner Procrastinator brandishes my evening notes like nuclear bombs in the well-hardened silos of a fanatic. "Edit! Edit!" my Procrastinator whispers, like a casually-dressed whore in the morning, pretending to be your neighbour while you're off looking for the milk and the paper.

Ahem. Metaphors'll be the death of me.

So far, I've resisted. When I've finished the manuscript - and only then! - will I start to re-write. I have far too much experience at polishing and re-polishing (and re-polishing again!) the first chapter or three and letting the subsequent gross molder away like so much forgotten food in the back of a bachelor's fridge.
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: chainsawhoney
2008-01-09 05:29 am (UTC)
that's a lot of words!
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[User Picture]From: sooguy
2008-01-09 02:58 pm (UTC)
Congrats on the progress and feeling like a writer again.

I think tinkering is my downfall too. For too many years I failed to even write ONE word because I wanted it to be perfect and thought out in my head before I committed it to paper (okay I was young and lacked confidence!).

But I am still prey to that whore that you mentioned luring you into editing when you should be writing.

Good luck. I have to get back to the writing as well and soon!
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[User Picture]From: ed_rex
2008-01-10 12:10 am (UTC)

Youth ...

Funny thing is, when I was young, I had confidence coming out the wazoo. I think I was 21 when I finished my second novel (yes, they were both terrible; and no, you can't read them!). My ability to finish things has, until very recently, seemed to diminish with age.
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