For anyone that may have been paying attention, I didn’t have a post on Friday. I just plain forgot. But what happens if you just need to take a day off? What if you’re just so under/overwhelmed, that you can’t write?
First of all, we can get burnt out… just read over the Writer’s block article I wrote last week. Sometimes, we need to build a little time in there for us to rest and recover. I chose to take the weekends for myself, maybe your choice would be three days off… or just write from 5am to Noon (I know, who the hell gets up that early? – I do.).
Whatever schedule you use, just remember: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. It’s not just a phrase, it’s a tenant for living. As you trudge through the jungle, hunting down that elusive prize, drenched in sweat from the effort, don’t forget to take a break and water yourself with a bit of fluff and fun. The trees are going to be there. The work is going the be there. The prize will still be there.
Just don’t go too far with the play…
Last we heard, the natives were beating the tom-toms as we hacked our way through the jungle. It’s got a beat, but can we dance to it? I don’t know, but music seems to be a recurring theme when our writing group is in the thick of nano-madness. We have everyone from me, that usually listens to no music whatsoever (or, at a minimum, something with a fast pace and beat with very few words… i.e. EDM), to my girlfriend who seems to go for volumes of themed music that fits the flow and idea for whatever she happens to be working on… and every one in between.
…and I don’t mean standing on the corner in something skimpy… or making something out of yarn… or some kind of accident when you go fishing. We’re talking about grabbing that attention (that we sometimes need tweezers for because it’s so short). How do we do that with words?
Sometimes we get on a roll (like the proverbial un-fuzzy boulder), and have a time where writing is like an unbidden spring pouring forth from your brain directly to the paper/screen. When this happens, it’s very much like a bus or tank, loaded down to the hilt…. plowing down the city street, pushing and crushing cars along the way.
When I wrote my first two short stories, I just wrote… let the story take off running and see where it led me. I had a good idea what general direction each was going, but as far as the destination… no idea. The third short was a bit more directed… I had a direction and an ending, but the path to get there could be as meandering as it wanted to be. My Nano novel started like that. I had a beginning (pretty much the first four chapters already written), a middle (kinda), and an end (which changed a little bit, but was damn close to the original.)
As we’re trudging through the mass of creeper vines and foliage of the forest’s undergrowth, let’s take a moment to ponder just what this ancient treasure is for. Who’s going to be reading this book? What age group are we hoping will reach their grubby little mitts for your tome.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve been ingrained with this inner editor (I call mine, Mr. Editor) based upon years and years of school trying to prevent you from embarrassing yourself. Or, maybe you don’t… maybe you have this niggling little feeling deep inside when something just doesn’t sound right… or flow correctly. Whatever you may happen to have… how do we turn it off while writing?
It caught me… hook, line and sinker. I had resisted for so long, yet it got its dirty, blocky talons in me. What is this evil thing that lurks around the corner? Minecraft. All the chunky wondrousness of it finally hooked me and dragged me flopping from here to kingdom come.
You may find yourself hacking away at the jungle one day… and the jungle hacks back. I’m talking about your characters getting all grumpy and misbehaving. In one of my short stories, my main female character got assaulted. First of all, I wasn’t aware that it was going to happen (I’m a pantser, remember?), and secondly, her reaction was just plain completely out of character. So, I’m sitting there, completely flabbergasted with her and the way she handled the reaction, and my jaw is sitting in my lap.
How on earth do we continue? I ask myself that on a daily basis. Sometimes, writing isn’t fun… other times, it’s all you can do (foregoing food on occasion). While not a writer’s block, exhaustion can set in. It takes a lot to keep the fingers/pencil/typewriter going.
