Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Jumping from Draft 2 to 3.5

Combining drafts is more difficult than I thought.  Merging thoughts sometimes don't merge as smoothly as you would think, particularly when they are from the same person on the same subject, but delivered at different points in a timeline.

And so the inner struggle continues to weave together, ever stronger, the lines between the lines within the lines.  Sometimes I wonder if I am giving too much or too little all the time and all at once. 

This is forever a struggle in all I do, and when it occurs in my work, I wonder where I am going to land.

I have felt so ahead and so behind in everything. I know this cannot make sense to the vast majority of you, but truly I am pushing and I am pulling simultaneously.  And somehow, while I do this, I see my reflection working backward.  This is a fun house of thoughts.  I feel trapped and enlightened. I only hope I can remain this positive in the end.

And so it goes. And so it goes.

Monday, April 30, 2018

The Ties That Bind Tripped Me

The trick isn't about creating new problems. It's about solving the existing ones.  When I'm editing, I feel that my subconscious is trying to maneuver through the problems while my conscious self is consistently getting itself into trouble.

How do you disentangle yourself when you end up tied into knots in your jump rope?  I had an epiphany last night after writing on how to get myself out, but I was so incredibly exhausted, I couldn't put enough thought together to integrate it in properly.  So I had to just pray I'd remember how to weave my magic today almost 24 hours later.

Tip: That's not the best course of action.  If you have any drive or alertness in the fiber of any of your being, summon it and get back to work.  Unless you realize you are entangling yourself more.  Then abandon all hope and hide in a corner, sucking your thumb until morning.  Then repeat process.

Oh goodness me, what have I gotten myself into?  Why did I think I could summit such a monstrous thing as this?  It's not like it's just a book or anything...

What are your methods to undo a mass of knots and tangles in a section of a story?  Where you felt inspiration but conveniently ended up painting yourself into the far corner without a bathroom?

Any comments and suggestions are always welcome.  I'm going to make another attempt.  Let's see how this goes.

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Rocket Man

Zero hour: 9 a.m.

For some reason this song seems so perfect right now.  I'm not the man they think I am at all.  I feel like I'm walking around my small little nook of the world carrying a piece of me that no one knows about.  That is, besides those who know me very well.  Besides my immediate family and a few very close friends, who truly knows me?

Who truly knows the worlds inside me? Who truly sees what lies hidden within my mind, my heart, my fingertips?

I am so fortunate that so many have paved the way in revealing their stories.  I am blessed to have been allowed access to so many other authors' dreams.  Take a moment and just think of all the books you have read, the stories you've heard, the lives and love and loss you've shared in them.  Think of who they came from.  We know so much more about humanity and its beauty than we realize.

Pick up a book, and you are picking up a piece of a person.  You are sharing in their thoughts, their hopes, their tragedies.  You are allowing a piece of them to become a piece of you.

I am in awe, and my heart aches. My fingers aren't fast enough, my mind isn't strong enough, and I weep. 

I am always going, unwilling to give up no matter the amount of time it takes.  But I have never felt so heavy and so light as when I contemplate how far I have come and how far I have yet to go.  I take a deep breath, let it out as I collect myself. And I continue on.