Well, maybe I won’t turn you, exactly, but I finally turned one of my minor characters into a bloody mass of offal. Well, it really wasn’t me, it was one of my main characters, but then . . . yeah, it was me.
I loved it. Not every day you get to kill someone like that, and then brag about it.
Yesterday was a strange day. I haven’t been getting enough sleep and it seemed like I’ve once more gotten into some kind of long slog in my personal life. So when I posted yesterday’s post, it had a sort of “Ah, screw it: maybe I’ll goof off today” feel.
And I was going in that direction . . . until I heard from Sweet Marrisa.
Marrisa has been following me pretty much since I’ve began blogging. She’s always been very encouraging, very helpful, with a few simple words of wisdom that help direct me towards . . . well, I’ve never figured that out, but, I feel, it’s meant to give me a little help in this solitary endeavor we called “writing”.
Yeah, she’s always had a few kind words for me–
And then yesterday happened, and she turned into freakin’ Ellen Ripley.
Sweet Marrisa left me a message yesterday. It was short and sweet and to the point. Allow me to re-post, with my comments from yesterday’s post in italics so there is no confusion as to who said what:
“Or maybe I should just say the hell with it and find something else to do.”
Uh….THIS is not an option. Just saying…
“Maybe I should just stop bitching and turn that energy into creativity.”
On the other hand, this one I’m on board with. Get to writing, Mr….
Do you see that “Mr”? I feel so like Corporal Hudson getting his ass kicked into an APV! No bullshit from her, I can tell. It’s write or I’ll fine her standing behind me with a M41a Pulse Rifle to my head.
But the thing is, it helped me move on. It helped me get my butt in gear. And it helped me write. For when it was all over, I did write throughout the day, and when it was all over I had an 8500 word Chapter 15, and I had finished Part Two of my novel, and I was over 54,000 words total.
What I do is pretty solitary. I sit in a room for a big part of the day, with a computer by my side and a 19″ monitor in front of me. I play music to keep me company, but there’s little else going on through the day, and if I find myself growing tired, or my head is starting to spin, or I’m hungry, or I’m just plan bored and my attention is slipping, there’s no one else to say, “Hey, how are you doing?” and maybe discuss plot and story and characters, and maybe somehow get the creative juices flowing again, get them back up to the level when you want to start typing once again and, by the time it’s all over, have you feeling that you really do want to turn some smarmy bastard inside out.
Sweet Marrisa did me a service in more ways than one. It’s not just a feeling of motivation I feel from her, but there’s more. Because I know she’s one of the people who bought my first story (Did I mention I published a story? Did I mention it’s called Kuntilanak? Did I mention you can buy it at both Smashwords and Barnes & Noble? Humm . . . I think I just did), and her willingness to push me means she wants to read what I’m working on now.
And that means I have a fan.
And when you have fans . . . it makes the writing all the more enjoyable. Unless they’re named Annie Wilkes, but that’s another story . . ..
Part Three has started. I’ve got a good feeling today. Maybe I’ll get 2500 words, maybe 3000. But the words are there.
I just gotta pull them out.