Writing Wrongs

May 24, 2005

Iím trying really really, really hard to make this my mantra. Had a huge discussion with myself in my journal (not this one, the one on my handheld computer--I have something like five journals total) about how Iím at the point where I need a first draft of The Boysí Club. I need a bunch of words I can work with, scenes I can scrap or salvage a single paragraph from.

But I canít do it. Do what? Write or think? Good question. Iíll get back to you on that. I do this with every rough draft in one form or another. Itís hard to write the sh*tty first draft (as Anne Lamott dubs it) when youíre a perfectionist. Or at least I am when it comes to writing. Whatís weird is as much as I want it perfect right out of the gate, I like revising. It makes no sense, not even to me.

I truly think I need to go ďundergroundĒ and write the rest of the draft without input. Sometimes Iím blindsided by an innocent comment. But sometimes the praise is worse, because I know however good that scene might be, the rest of the book canít live up to it.

So this is what writers are. Neurotic. When youíre published, you get paid for being neurotic. Nice. Granted, I know a few who have this whole Zen thing going on. I swear, nothing bothers them. I know a couple who fake the Zen thing really well. The rest of us? Neurotic.

In other news, some D-land types were talking kids and accidents, and how sometimes these things just happen. Well, last night, Kyra and Andrew were playing in the laundry on the bed (donít ask), and I was sweeping up dog kibble (donít ask), when a howl came from the bedroom followed by some serious big-boy sobs. Seems the back of Kyraís head smashed into Andrewís nose. For about five minutes I thought a trip to the ER was in our future, but the pain passed quickly and there was barely any blood. This morning, his nose is a bit fatter, but thatís it.

I was going to try to tie laundry, or dog kibble, or broken noses into my ďwrite, donít thinkĒ theme, but I got nothing. I donít even have a sh*tty first draft.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 12:24 p.m.

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