Okay. Over eight years ago I decided to become a writer. I was obviously young and had a lot to learn back then, but I thought writing would be an easy job. Not easy. But I love it, and over the years I’ve gotten to an average of 4,000 words a day if I push it. I can write. I like that part.
What I don’t like is revision. Some of you who have read my articles might know that I don’t cut out entire scenes and quotes just for the sake of slimming down the book, but I do check for errors and where clarification is needed. But I hate revision. It drives me crazy. In fact, I don’t think there’s a strong enough word to tell you how I feel about the jogging-through-wet-tar feeling I get from sitting down to ‘revise’. But you can’t publish a book until you make sure at least most of the errors are weeded out. So, it remains to me one of life’s little evils.
Which I try and hide from every chance I get.
It really is amazing how much you can get done when you have a clear mind, and, on the other hand, how little you can get done when you have a cluttered mind. I’ve been writing for over eight years now and I’ve rarely been hit by writer’s block. Not that I’m boasting, it’s just a state of mind; I almost never allow myself to say ‘Oh well, writer’s block. Nothing that can be done about it.’ Happy, sad, angry, I’ve always forced myself to get in at least a little writing.
But, sometimes when I’m least expecting it, my mind will become so completely cluttered that I can’t perform everyday activities, let alone get the creative process flowing. I don’t think it’s the same thing as writer’s block because usually that doesn’t affect your daily life. In any case it really is horrible! Luckily there’s a cure; stop, and sort out every little issue that comes to mind, even if that means telling yourself there’s not a thing you can do to fix Problem X and Y. At the end of the day, and with a good night’s sleep, you’ll be feeling better and writing better.
So I’ve reached the end of yet another book in my Fantasy/Viking/Humor series, Boldin. This would be book 8, and I already have the next one all decided on… so yay! On the other hand, you don’t know about Boldin, and that’s because I haven’t published a single syllable of the series yet. Huh… It’s that age old problem; I’m swamped with other projects. It just so happens I can write this book really fast.
A good part of the reason why is that I get a combination of anxiety and excitement towards the end. I write a chapter and a half a day, and then by the time I’m done I feel like I’ll never write another book again; until a week or so later. So how do you feel when you get to the end of a book, either one you’re writing or reading? Happy? Sad? A little of both? Let’s hear your thoughts.