Tag: Writing

  • Note Taking, Not Writing

    Last Friday when I was at the park with the kid, besides keeping an eye on her, I did some journaling with the intent of reminding myself of the story ideas that I needed to work on. Total, I have about four good ideas I want to flesh out.

    And that’s all the work I have done on the for four days. Just notes.

    I am beginning to get very frustrated at myself and my situation. Maybe I’m too ambitious or not enough of a realist when it comes to the world I inhabit. I keep thinking I can get it all done. Each day that goes by and I don’t work on these stories makes me feel like I’m flushing away my creative potential.

    I’m also tired of using COVID or the election as the excuse why I can’t work. I doomscroll and keep checking polls, but I don’t live like they cause an atrophy to my drive.

    It’s not working the way it should, and I feel like I have to go back to the drawing board.

  • Cowardly Writer

    A friend of mine, who I haven’t spoken to in over a year was awarded a grant so she could continue on her novel without having to look for a job at the end of the world. She is super talented, completely deserves it, and I’m very happy for her. The thing that piqued my interest was that my friend gave thanks to another author, who had informed her of the grant, when they had first meet at a writing symposium.

    As in all things it’s who you know.

    I know I have to have material in the first place; finish the novel, finish the story collection

    But, I think I know people. But I can’t bring myself to ask for advice or help.

    This is cowardly, but I think I’m afraid of my friends hating my work. I know I’m not in a place to share, but I can’t stay this way forever, as in my work will never see the light of day. I will never grow if I don’t open myself up.

    The journey is getting a little uncomfortable now…

  • Comedy, Inside Jokes, and a First Draft

    When I was in college, and I was a theatre major, I had a running debate with a good friend, which was, are Shakespeare’ comedies funny? He said yes, and me, to be a jerk, said no. My main reason for the stance I took is that comedies are full of inside jokes that the audience never notices, and what Elizabethans found funny, no one gets anymore. Yes, the puns survived, but puns aren’t funny.

    Also, for comedy to work it needs context and surprise; context established the frame work for a surprise to be funny, and the surprise is funny because context says the surprise shouldn’t be there. Hence, if we don’t understand the context, how can the surprise be funny, or even to be understood as a surprise in the first place.

    Then there are inside jokes, which no one gets except a handful of people, having been orchestrated by the writer. I had a friend who recently had their screenplay produced and released. He had put several inside jokes in the screenplay, most of them honoring quirks his wife has which he loves. All writers do this, which is why I say that Shakespeare’ comedies are full of jokes we will never understand.

    I bring all of this up because I am trying to hammer away at a first draft of my novel. I know full well that my first draft will not be good, and I am really trying to get it down so I have a starting point to begin crafting the story. So, as I rush through it, I am seriously cramming it full of inside jokes, to the point that I started to get self-conscious about it. I know my wife will read the draft, and most likely roll her eyes at me. Most of it will find its way out of the story, as the characters start to stand in their own, and not need the crutch of me anymore.

    But, I always wonder when I read a novel, if the name of the street that a character lives on is actually an homage to author’s mother’s maiden name.

  • The Day Went Sideways

    I thought I had a plan for today.

    That was my first mistake.

    What I had set out to do today was help out my friends. They had rented a car, and to help save them some dollars, I offered to drive them to the rental place, which was in New Jersey. Not really a big deal, just across the George Washington Bridge.

    Well…

    Nothing is easy in New Jersey.

    It took over three hours to pick them up, drop them off and get home. They say New York City has emptied out… but not on the GWB.

    By the time I had got home, I had lost the time I had set aside to blog and work on the novel. (Clearly, I’m blogging now, but I’m doing it while the kid is running around the park. Not the most attentive parent today.) I am afraid that the novel won’t get any attention and that’s just the way it’s going to be.

    But that’s okay.

    I don’t want to beat myself up if I don’t work on every project, every day. It was a good thing that I helped out my friends and got to spend time with them. Things go sideways, that’s just life. I need to be more forgiving to myself, and be more confident that I am committed to following through on writing.

  • Making Time to Write, Again

    Today has gone better, when it comes to making time to write.

    I have stuck to the schedule and I was able to get some journal time in at the park. About 30 minutes, total. Luckily, the kid has started to make friends with the other regular children at the playground, which leads to the air of stability for both of us.

    I am in the afternoon quiet playtime section of the day, where the kid plays in her room, and I finish up my chores, and get about 30 minutes on the couch to do this; blog.

    I am trying not to delve in on the news of today, as I know that will be a distraction for me. I am working at staying focused on finishing this. Then I will have some art time with the kid-o, which can be a fun creative outlet, a palate cleanser so to speak. Then I will let the kid have an hour of free TV time, which will give me a chance to get back to the novel, which sadly, a month has passed since I worked on it last.

    As I go through all of these motions, I am aware enough to know that I will need to repeat this process for at least two to eight months for this habit to form. It does feel like I am the sideshow magician spinning plates, trying to keep everything going.