So far so good.
Day 2 and I have written 2 hours.
Last night I powered through and wrote until the alarm rang. I'm feeling the same kind of high I feel after starting back to regular running after an erratic hiatus- relaxed and energized.
I've had this short story playing around in my head for weeks yet I couldn't seem to get anywhere with it because I kept starting and stopping. I would lose the thread of the story and feel it forming a knot. Now I'm deep inside feeling my way through it. I can't wait to finish it and begin editing.
If I am seriously considering continuing towards a MFA I need a stronger portfolio. The only way this is going to happen is if I'm writing everyday. Knowing what I need to do to get from point A to point B isn't complicated. The complication is in giving myself the permission to do it.
I'm elated now but when the schedule starts to become crazy again or illness strikes I'll have to remember this moment. For me, this has to be an everyday occurrence. I can't take one day off or else it becomes too easy to take the next day off.
Showing posts with label writing time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing time. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
One Hour A Day
Graham Greene had his 500 words. I'm starting with an hour a day. Given the complexity of my life these days I can spare at least an hour for writing.
My strict criteria is that this hour can only be spent on creative writing. Character development and plot development do not count as part of this hour. Blogging and tweeting don't count, nor does posting a status on Facebook. And... this may be going too far... class assignments don't count. Not even the most creatively spun feature story that makes an audience weep, laugh, and become one with the subject.
See now I've gone and muddied the whole grand idea. I've now tacked up a giant "NO PROCRASTINATING" sign. I will now be forced to be a writer who writes.
With the imposition of these harsh mandates, I might (gasp!) become a published writer and then what will I have to complain about?
My strict criteria is that this hour can only be spent on creative writing. Character development and plot development do not count as part of this hour. Blogging and tweeting don't count, nor does posting a status on Facebook. And... this may be going too far... class assignments don't count. Not even the most creatively spun feature story that makes an audience weep, laugh, and become one with the subject.
See now I've gone and muddied the whole grand idea. I've now tacked up a giant "NO PROCRASTINATING" sign. I will now be forced to be a writer who writes.
With the imposition of these harsh mandates, I might (gasp!) become a published writer and then what will I have to complain about?
Monday, March 14, 2011
Leave Me Alone and Let Me Write
I'm struggling this morning. I was home with sick kids last week and I'm finding it tough to get myself back into the swing of classes again. I would much rather be writing than going to class.
I returned back to school to get my degree so I could focus on my writing unfortunately I feel too often I'm spending far too much time concentrating on someone else's writing.
Don't get me wrong; I love the classes I'm taking. I have felt inspired, energized and my writing is stronger and richer than it's ever been. I'm not sure I would have reached this point in the craft if I toiled away in isolation but I'm not writing as much as I would like to be.
Daily I am blessed with ideas for nonfiction books, short stories, novels, poems and essays. I keep a notebook filled with ideas hoping that by writing them down I can maintain their energy. Then I go back to cobbling a few minutes here and there to work on any one project. There are some days I don't write at all between running a household of children and an elderly mother plus classes and deadlines.
Since my mother moved in with us, I don't even have a place to escape to write. My dream-office is now her bedroom. I'm like an addict when it comes to writing. When I don't write, I start craving. I find myself writing in my head, through the middle of conversations and lectures. I can still process what is being said and I can retain an incredible amount of information but this other part of my brain is off in the netherworld. This only gets me so far. I need to get all these words out or else I become one cranky creature.
I cut my schedule down to two classes this semester which gave me two free days off to write while my youngest is in pre-school. I head straight to the study room on campus with my computer and food and I only get up to stretch or for bathroom breaks. But most of that "free" time is spent on assignments for classes- researching, setting up interviews, or meeting with fellow classmates on a project. I enjoy this but my own writing is languishing.
I have class in less than an hour but I'm torn because I know I'll be there but my heart won't. I'll be longing to be elbow deep in my novel. I know when I get home from school the duties of mother and chief cook and bottle washer will take over. Maybe I'll get a run in to keep my sanity but I doubt I'll have that much needed uninterrupted time I crave to write.
I returned back to school to get my degree so I could focus on my writing unfortunately I feel too often I'm spending far too much time concentrating on someone else's writing.
Don't get me wrong; I love the classes I'm taking. I have felt inspired, energized and my writing is stronger and richer than it's ever been. I'm not sure I would have reached this point in the craft if I toiled away in isolation but I'm not writing as much as I would like to be.
Daily I am blessed with ideas for nonfiction books, short stories, novels, poems and essays. I keep a notebook filled with ideas hoping that by writing them down I can maintain their energy. Then I go back to cobbling a few minutes here and there to work on any one project. There are some days I don't write at all between running a household of children and an elderly mother plus classes and deadlines.
Since my mother moved in with us, I don't even have a place to escape to write. My dream-office is now her bedroom. I'm like an addict when it comes to writing. When I don't write, I start craving. I find myself writing in my head, through the middle of conversations and lectures. I can still process what is being said and I can retain an incredible amount of information but this other part of my brain is off in the netherworld. This only gets me so far. I need to get all these words out or else I become one cranky creature.
I cut my schedule down to two classes this semester which gave me two free days off to write while my youngest is in pre-school. I head straight to the study room on campus with my computer and food and I only get up to stretch or for bathroom breaks. But most of that "free" time is spent on assignments for classes- researching, setting up interviews, or meeting with fellow classmates on a project. I enjoy this but my own writing is languishing.
I have class in less than an hour but I'm torn because I know I'll be there but my heart won't. I'll be longing to be elbow deep in my novel. I know when I get home from school the duties of mother and chief cook and bottle washer will take over. Maybe I'll get a run in to keep my sanity but I doubt I'll have that much needed uninterrupted time I crave to write.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
