Half Way Up the Pole

That long race to the end of the Harper Voyager finish feels like it’s almost there–but not quite.

This weekend was, in terms of writing, very long.  Did a lot of editing; a lot of editing.  Only six chapters in Her Demonic Majesty were put under my watchful eye, but when we look at the total wordage, we’re talking about twenty-four thousand words.

That is some cranking, my friends.

I’m half-way through the novel.  Most the of short chapters are out of the way, and there are some monsters left.  I’ve got one that’s about eighty-four hundred words, and that’s going to take most of whatever free time I have to get it into shape.

So even though I’m half-way finished, I have to place my work on the novel in the context of real life, and the time I have to do this work.

Today and Friday are “travel days,” which is to say, “I go from my home to The Undisclosed Location, so I can drag my ass off to work, the come back home when it’s over.”  Friday I’ll have a little time to do some editing, but tonight–probably not. It really just depends if I can find any time today.  Or tonight.

Not like I gotta sleep, right?  Not that I do anyway . . .

I need some time to put the submission package together, which should happen Sunday, but I’m finding that I’ll need to start working on my next story for the Storytime blog.  Four weeks starts 1 October, and I need to make the first chapter sing.  Or mumble the words if nothing else.

I’ve yet to begin my research for NaNoWriMo.  I keep saying I’m going to do it, and yet . . . nothing yet, folks.  As I did last year, I’ll probably start throwing the Scrivener project together about the second week of October, and jam, jam, jam.

Even though I’m half way to the end, my expectation that I’m going to wake up on 1 October, walk over to the computer, and kick off my package first thing that morning, is wishful thinking at best.  Between travel, work, and writing, I’m likely going to have to let the timetable slip just a bit.  Maybe a day or two, but it’s still a bit.

I know:  I have until the 14th to get it off.  I don’t want to be one of the last, I want to be in the first wave.  I want to get whatever news is coming to me as soon as possible.

The edits are good.  I’m getting a good feel during this reading, and I don’t feel like the novel is a piece of crap.  I’ve fixed what needed to be fixed, but the plot is good.  It’s all in the mechanics at the moment.

There is a lot of work ahead of me.  Don’t worry; I’ll get it.  I be a writin’ fool, you know, and I’m gonna make this chance a good one.  My odds of getting picked are as good as anyone else, and if it’s meant to be, it will.

In the mean time . . . damn, I need to do some writing, don’t I?

Affirmations of Real

Yesterday is what I used to call a mental health day.  Which is to say, I needed to get away from what I was doing, and do something else.

The sleeping issues have been piling up of late, and Monday and Tuesday nights were particularly horrid.  Yesterday morning I finally realized that I couldn’t work in a semi-zombie condition, so I called off from work and went back to bed.

Then I slept until about 9 AM.

When I finally crawled out of bed I realized I was in a position where I didn’t have to do anything.  Most of the time I have things planed out; I know, when I get up, what I need to do for the day.  Yesterday–no, there was no plan.  I could do anything I wanted.  Anything that struck my fancy was fair game.

It was a wonderful feeling, knowing I didn’t have anything to do.  So I did a few things, ran around, did some shopping–all things that I didn’t have to do, but did anyway.

Oh, and I did my blog post for the day.

I’ve been slacking from writing for the last few weeks.  Since finishing Diners at the Memory’s End, I haven’t started on anything new.  I’ve had ideas, yes, and I’ve put those ideas in a file so I don’t forget them, but beyond the chapter a week I’m doing on another blog for my story Replacements, I’ve not sat down and started anything that’s required my attention every day of the week.  Yes, I’m doing a final edit on Echoes, but there isn’t a work in progress in progress.

The summer burned me out–there’s no doubting that.  A lot of things hit at the same time, and I wasn’t doing a very good job dealing with anything.  A month ago I decided that I need to do things for me, that I need to stop worrying about what I’m doing for others, and think about what I’m doing for me.

I need to see to it that I’m good, because if I’m not good for myself, then I’m no good to anyone else.

I’m still writing every day.  Even if I don’t have a work in progress, I have the blog.  If nothing else, I get my five hundred words a day in here, and post it around the Internet.  Writing every day is one discipline I keep to, because the moment you give up writing, you start killing your dream.  My dreams are important, and I want them to become more than dreams.  So I continue with the writing, even if it’s here.

Before you know it, however, there’ll be a work in progress, because the Muse won’t allow me to remain idle for long.  She keeps me going, but she also knows that if I’m going to write, I’ve got to be well.  I’ve got to be good to myself.

Can’t stay in ruts; can’t keep beating myself up; can’t refuse to do good things for my own well being.

Keep it real, and real will keeping make nice for you.