Finished my book! Now for editing!
At this point, I cannot count the number of rejections I’ve gotten on my short horror stories.
It’s disheartening to say the least, but I think the fact that they haven’t kept me from writing shows how I’ve grown as an author. I used to get really down about it and, really, I still do. But the fact that I’m still working on my book days later, despite the little voice in the back of my head that is telling me to give up, is a good sign.
I’m eleven chapters into my novella and I plan on finishing the final couple of chapters tonight so I can start editing. That voice is still going to be there, but at this point, I’m just going to keep at it. Even if my writing is terrible, even if the book gets finished and no one wants it, at least it’ll be done and I’ll have accomplished this monster task. I’ve never finished a book before, always giving up halfway through.Just getting it done, at this point, will be enough.
Writing is my life and if I want to do it, seriously, as a career, I need to push on, even when others are telling me no.
So, NaNoWriMo got me down for a while because though I wrote for the first day, life got in the way and kept me from writing much. Which caused what I call a ‘failure spiral’. I don’t complete the goals I set for myself, feel like a failure and then sink into a crappy depression. So I’ve been avoiding working on anything as a sort of self-flagellation.
But! I’m back to work on my Novella and I am very excited about it!
The main character and I have worked out exactly how this is going to be formatted. It’s a bit disheartening to struggle through half of it only to have my MC hate everything I’m writing and resisting the whole way. I’ve scrapped what I wrote before and we’re starting again. He’s being much more cooperative, which is great, and I’m much more excited to write now.
I’ll probably post little snippets here of things that I like most, so keep an eye out for them~
She’s one of four pet rats kept in this little apartment, in a cage far too big, or perhaps not entirely big enough. Her little feet rush over the cheap plastic of her ever turning wheel as the others sleep and eat. I wonder what her day is like. Running but going nowhere. Does she know how stuck she is or is it enough to keep the wheel spinning, that wheel that’s started to squeak from age and wear.
It’s still early, early for me anyway. It’s noon and I’ve just woken up. I’ll be stay up until three or four in the morning. The rats will too. I have a cup of coffee next to me and my laptop open. Work first, like always. There’s a schedule I follow every day; work, school, play. I pull up my browser, check work notifications, reacheck my time card, then get down to business. SIx hours of work, from noon to six, sitting there toiling over various tasks. I can’t sit still. My computer chair moves, wheels spin, back and forth absently as my eyes are fixed on the screen.
I get up for bathroom breaks, to eat, or to pause at the cage to watch the other girls napping in their hammock, the three of them together making a ball of fur and pink ears and long tails. I always return to that chair. After work is school. All there in front of the monitor. Endless rows of text. Maybe I can get some writing done later if I’m not too tired. The chair is starting to squeak in time with the turning of the wheel. My fingers are tapping away at the keys, pausing now and again to use the mouse. More coffee. I’m getting somewhere. Once school is taken care of then I can play a little. Gaming, writing, chatting with friends. More text on a screen. I pause long enough to make dinner. I fill a large pot of water with pasta and watch the coils on the stove turn from black to a bright orange before dumping the noodles in. Rigatoni. It’s my favorite kind, long and round. The best for trapping sauce, I think as I stir now the bubbling water, watching the contents spin.
I get back to my seat with a steaming bowl of food, back to wiggling the chair, rolling it too and fro on the carpet, and Sera runs.