It took a little doing, but the goal was met. 2,524 words written in two scenes, and The Foundation Chronicles: The Scouring, got the push it needed to jump over the Camp NaNo finish line.
There is always a point in creating a story where a certain amount of exhaustion sets in, and you start to wonder how you’re going to push through that curtain. Sometimes you just gird your loins and keep working. Sometimes you take a break so you can catch your breath, then come back feeling refreshed.
There are also those points in time when you wonder if what you do is making a difference, and if you should continue with your endeavor.
I’ve spoken of these things before, of highs and the lows, of the perseverance and the doubts. Last Friday I pushed myself to write a six hundred word review, a five hundred and fifty word blog post, and finished the night by putting almost eleven hundred words into my story. When I woke up the next day I asked myself, “Why am I doing this? There’s no pay; there’s little recognition; there’s a lot of work. Why?” These days it gets asked a lot, because there are an inordinate numbers of stress factors in my life, and this is but one more.
I don’t do this for fun. I know there are writers who say, “Oh, I’m only in this because it’s fun!” Yeah, okay. I have fun doing this to, but I also put some crazy work into getting things the way I want, which ends up front-ending a lot of work on even a simple project. Can’t help it: I get nuts like that.
I’m not into fan fiction, either. Oh, I’ve done it; my current project sorta came out of a fan fiction background, one might say. I know there are people who spend years working on fan fic: I saw something on Facebook the other day where someone said they’ve written a half-million words of fan fiction. Fantastic. I can’t do that; it’s a little too much like literary masturbation to me.
I write because I do enjoy writing. I do enjoy making stories and writing the occasional review or article, because I would like to do this all the time. I also like the bit of recognition I get, which is always good, unless we’re writing something that we’re rather people never see–or we’re penning a novel outside our comfort zone and are curious to see if critics are going to love it if they don’t know who wrote it.
In my own way I’ve gotten a bit of exposure that was nice, and not the sort you encounter hiking on Everest when a storm blows up and leaves you freezing to death and gasping for air. Sure, Amazon has its own Death Zone for us self-publishers, but that’s a completely different thing. The exposure I’ve received has been for a couple of articles I’ve written, and since I never intended to publish them, the pat on the back felt great.
My fiction, however: that stays with me, and when I’m finished I publish it for sale. My intention is to tell stories and to sell, and to eventually do this all the time. This is why I get crazy and upset and up and down a lot, because my expectations are great, and the realities are not so much.
But I keep at it, because one day things will turn around. This I believe. When I’m not all that upset with my story.