I‘ve hit a groove with my early morning writing. My alarm goes off at 5am, it takes me about 10 minutes to get upstairs and make coffee (I move really slowly that early in the morning), and then I write one full page in my journal, which takes about 15 minutes, and then I write for an hour. At 6:30 I head down to get the kids up and in the shower – time to start the day.
Since writing about my blog’s fourth birthday, and reflecting on how I used to write so much more (in basic volume), I’ve tried treating my fiction like I treat the writing I do at my job. I get up when I say I will and just know I have to hit 500 words in an hour. Instead of laboring over the parts I know need polishing, I skim ahead to the section where I actually need new prose and just start writing.
It’s been kind of amazing. 500 words a day, and I’ve been doing it 6 days a week for three weeks now – yes, I’m even getting my lazy butt out of bed on Saturdays. That’s 3,ooo words a week for the math-challenged. At this rate I can absolutely finish this draft before the end of the year. It won’t be perfect, but it will be done, and that fact alone is enough to keep me motivated to get out of bed before the sun comes up.
The pages are flying and it is so very satisfying.
One of the perks of my job is that I work remotely. I have often said how cool it is that I can take my work with me anywhere, but the truth is I never do. Because if I’m going somewhere it’s usually because I don’t want to be working. I’m am not the girl you see sitting by the pool with her laptop.
Except maybe, this week, I am.
My mom has a show opening at a gallery in the desert this Friday and I really want to go. The party starts at 6 and it’s a 3 hour drive (or 5 in traffic), so it would have meant leaving after lunch and using some vacation time, but instead I’m going to flex my remote-worker muscle.
Our thinking is that we will drive out early in the morning. We will leave at 6am, and by 9am I should be happily settled in to some public place with free wi-fi. Eventually I will be in our hotel room, or even (we’ll see) by the pool. Then, come the end of the day, I will put on my art-show-opening fancies and have a lovely night with my momma.
And then Saturday morning I plan to wake up early enough to work on my novel while I watch the sun come up over the desert. I’ve been dying for some desert time. It’s going to be a great (if short) trip.
Here is a sample of mom’s sculpture. You can see more of her work on her website.
My blog turned 4 this last weekend.
It’s been four years since I first hit “Publish” back on my modest little MobileMe site (remember MobileMe? No? Neither does anyone else). Since then I’ve written 274 posts – just over a post a week. I also earned my masters degree, had a baby, finished a few short stories, wrote a travel book, did some actual traveling, took a full time job and well, lived life. A lot has happened.
Looking back, my first post was about trying to hit a deadline. I was writing the first draft of my novel to turn in as the thesis project for my masters. I wrote 45 pages in three days!
These days I write about 200 words a week. Granted, I only manage to squeeze in a few hours of writing over the course of seven days, but still. Did I suffer a serious blow to the head or something?
I’ve been thinking a lot about this. The 45 pages I wrote in that crazy long weekend were not good. But are the two hundreds words that I spend a week on now-a-days THAT much better?
I think I need to lighten up a bit. I so over think every word I write lately that it’s becoming paralyzing.
Actually, that’s not true. At work I pour words out all day long. I have to. I have deadlines. And come to think of it, I wrote those 45 pages on a deadline too. So maybe what I need to do is set deadlines for myself. Just bust out some words because that’s what I’m sitting there to do. At work I don’t second guess every word. I write them, then I review them to make sure they say what I meant them to say, edit a little as needed and move on. My fiction-writing self needs to take a hint from my corporate writing self.
So resolution for my fifth blog year: just keep writing and stop over-thinking.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
This is the scene that greeted me Friday morning when I arrived at work.
At first I glanced in through the wrecked door and saw Daniel’s monitor on his desk, so I thought the door broke on its own some how, but upon closer inspection I realized my monitor (which is newer and frankly a lot fancier) was in deed missing.
The funny thing is that on the way to work that morning I was actually thinking to myself – why do I lug my laptop home with me every night? Sometimes I do it so I can write in the morning, but I knew I wasn’t going to be writing on Friday morning, so I felt kind of lame for bringing it home, until I saw this.
After calling 911 and being transferred to dispatch to call for the cops to come, I peered in again and saw that Daniel’s laptop was also missing. Then my hands started to shake a bit. He has been working SO hard on this screenplay, and he is notoriously bad about backing up. I called home and broke the news and was very happy when he asked if his backup drive was still there. I looked closely and reported it was and he exhaled. Turns out that last time his computer crashed and took all his files he started backing up daily.
So that’s the silver lining. My back up drive was also untouched (though it sits on my desk right next to the monitor and could easily fit into a pocket), so all our files are safe.
It took three hours, but the cops finally did show up and take a report. (Fun side note – they had no record of my 911 call at 7am – I had to call three times. Government shutdown in action or just the LAPD at work?) Their finger print guy will be in some time today to see if he can get anything and we are thinking pretty hard about what new security measures we’re going to take. I’m pushing for metal doors, but seeing as we don’t have any windows, that would make the space kind of cave-like. Bars are icky. Maybe one of those metal grate things you pull down over the glass at the end of the night. The landlord seems unconcerned, but I’m thinking, now that the thief knows it’s that easy to break the door and take our shit, why wouldn’t they come back? I worked at a restaurant once that was robbed two nights in a row by the same guys. It happens.
These things happen.
My husband and I bought our HD DVD player a couple months before Blu-Ray put HD to shame, I set up my first blog with the now defunct iWeb, and I’ve been using Shelfari to keep track of my books for years now. It’s a trend. I always seem to pick the wrong technology.
Thankfully, I manage to make the shift to the right technology eventually, but it’s so disheartening every time I realize I’ve done it again.
So anyway, I have now transferred my library over to Good Reads
(insert sheepish grin here)
Thankfully, Good Reads actually makes it really easy to import a library from Shelfari, or I might not have done it. And I have to admit, I do really like the widget they provide for showcasing my bookshelf (that’s it over there on the right). And it has the whole social thing going on, not that I really have time to write reviews of every book I read, but I enjoy seeing familiar faces as I browse.
If you’re on Good Reads, send me a friend request (or whatever the equivalent is). I’m just getting up to speed, but you know me – I love all this stuff. It shouldn’t take me long.