What a week (and weekend)! It’s been a bit of an adventure getting to this point but I think I’m starting to see a schedule/routine emerge and it’s very exciting.
I still don’t know what exactly I’m going to do as far as blog posts. For now I’ve been posting when possible or when I have something to say but apparently this year is the year of structure and stability and I’m not feeling the free form, haphazard blogging style I’ve indulged in up to now. So I’ve come up with a plan.
There will be at least 2 posts a week, the Sunday Short (naturally) but also on Monday morning to fill you in on the weekend’s progress. I’ll try to post another, perhaps on a WEdnesday or Thursday but since I disconnect my Internet Thursday night before bed and do my best to stay off it for the weekend, Friday won’t work.
Now for the weekly update.
I suppose the biggest event was Valentine’s Day or as I call it, Narcissism Day. I’ve never had a Valentine’s date and for a few years I felt like I was missing out on an idealized version of being wined and dined and romanced out of my very lovely feminine outfit. Now I wear my 30-year dateless Valentine’s Day streak with pride. Conversations around February 14th tend to go something like this:
Friend: Any plans for Valentine’s Day, San?
Me: Yep. I’ve got a hot date.
Friend: *squeal of excitement* Who’s taking you out?
Me: Me. I have the best dates with myself. I dress up, get all dolled up, take myself out to dinner, wander through the city and there will never be any regrets.
Friend: You’re hilarious!
Me: How about you? Any plans?
I’m also not ashamed to admit that I mail myself cards (with a real note written inside). I haven’t sent myself flowers, that’s just crazy!
I thought the card was appropriate and hilarious. Sure it would be nice to have someone in my life who would send me Valentine’s card but if not then there’s no point in feeling sorry for myself. There’s nothing quite like a dose of narcissism as a pick me up when feeling a little glum.
Other than romancing myself, I’ve been enjoying my down time between writing weekends by catching up on my t.v. shows, reading, planning new stories and other general shenanigans.
This past weekend was great. I didn’t manage to make it to 15,000 words (I only made it to 12,227) but I’m only 667 words short of the 35,000 word mark. And do you know where that puts me? In the homestretch!
The novel has evolved and developed in exciting ways and this weekend was full of plot progression and excitement. I have no idea what’s going to happen between now and the end and that’s thrilling. I’m just not sure if I have enough left to write to fill out 15,000 words. I’m really hoping I don’t have to take a messy deviation that is going to add more work than I may have time for if I want to finish the novel without a crappy, rushed ending.
I have another series scheduled for this year but it’s a 5-novel one. It’s mammoth and I’m more than a little intimidated by it but it’s also the oldest idea currently floating around in my brain. So, it has to be written this year. It’s not a Western but this trilogy is going to be great practice for The Big One.
During the week I feel like a normal young-professional-cum-aspiring-writer but during the weekend I get side blinded every so often about this entire project and I wonder if I’m crazy for giving up my weekends for an entire year to do my writing. I wonder what I’m doing and question my sanity just a bit but then I think about what I’d rather be doing. My answer is always nothing. There is absolutely nothing that I would rather do in my spare time in such massive quantities. Of course, I love my dancing, I love being active and taking the dog out for walks is on par with sitting down and writing but when it comes down to it, I wouldn’t pick any of those things over a solid day of creating a manuscript. They’re prefect as breaks but my heart belongs to the stories I’m in the process of telling and those waiting in the wings.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.