Why is it Sunday evening already?

[ksmith]

Brought work home from the day job. Didn't touch it. Instead, I spent Saturday culling books and redistributing the remainder amongst my numerous shelves. Spent today cutting the lawn, along with a few hours of reading the paper/eating a nice lunch/having a Sunday.



The day job work is sitting on the floor near the CD rack, glaring in accusatory silence. If I refuse to look at it, will it cease to be?

Lovely cool, dry weather after the heat/humidity/rain of the last week. Supposed to be nice right up through Labor Day weekend, which I will turn into a 4-dayer by adding a vacation day. Can't come soon enough, even if it does mean we've entered the -ber months and year's end is approaching at speed.

I've been thinking about the writing discussions that take place on sartorias's LJ, as well as msagara's and janni's. Much information and food for thought of the sort that I would like to post, but just can't seem to find the words. Easier to post responses, answers to direct questions. The thoughts that run through my mind about the subject could fill pages, but it all stalls in the writing down because it *could* take pages and still fail to hit all the points I want to make. It's like nailing smoke to the wall. I'm a midlife/midcareer writer, with all the angst, self-doubt, and professional concerns that entails. It's admittedly a relief to read that others are in the some boat, even though the hull leaks and there aren't enough seats and the lifeboats are nonexistent. No fun for any of us, iow, and while misery loves company, it doesn't provide the best of accommodations.

Good to know that those others are out there, though.

And yes, if I knew 10, 15 years ago what I know now, I most likely would have gone and done it anyway.

Plugging away again on Jani 5, on which I've hung the working title ENDGAME (did I mention that before--I think I did). Working on a scene about a third of the way through the book, a pivotal one between Jani and John that I hope to hang onto come the revisions. The info needs to get out, and the scene is a good way to do it. I even worked out the next scene after that, and the next, as well as how to use it all as a bridge to get to a pivotal scene between Jani and Lucien. Haven't had one of those episodes in a while. Felt pretty good.

Comments

[msagara.livejournal.com]

I've been thinking about the writing discussions that take place on sartorias's LJ, as well as msagara's and janni's. Much information and food for thought of the sort that I would like to post, but just can't seem to find the words. Easier to post responses, answers to direct questions. The thoughts that run through my mind about the subject could fill pages, but it all stalls in the writing down because it *could* take pages and still fail to hit all the points I want to make.

<wry g>. I have. Written pages. And then remembered that I'd forgotten to address something, and written more pages. And so on. I think that musing out loud can sometimes be helpful; I think your answers are always to the point. Part of the difficulty -- for me -- is knowing where to start, not unlike the approach one takes to a novel. I'm happy to have the discussions mutate, or crossover into other LJ's, though <g>.

It's like nailing smoke to the wall. I'm a midlife/midcareer writer, with all the angst, self-doubt, and professional concerns that entails. It's admittedly a relief to read that others are in the some boat, even though the hull leaks and there aren't enough seats and the lifeboats are nonexistent. No fun for any of us, iow, and while misery loves company, it doesn't provide the best of accommodations.

The point is -- and I think it's one my first agent made -- that all writers go through this. It doesn't seem to matter how successful they actually are; they can be middling, or do well. There just comes a point when something seems wrong -- either the sales are there, but the critical respect isn't, or vice versa, or someone else is Norah Roberts, etc., or you just want to write something that the agent feels he can't sell, etc. It's always something. I think of it, now, as a natural progression. Not a happy one; not a comfortable one -- but natural.

But the other thing I sometimes find? Discussing it does help (well, it helps me). And I"m -really- happy to hear that writing went well.

[kristine-smith.livejournal.com]

Part of the difficulty -- for me -- is knowing where to start, not unlike the approach one takes to a novel. I'm happy to have the discussions mutate, or crossover into other LJ's, though .

The possibilities for discussion are endless. You stayed focused on different aspects and built on them, and I found the info you provided very informative. Depressing at times *g*, but good info nonetheless.

The point is -- and I think it's one my first agent made -- that all writers go through this.

Telling line, that. Both the description of agent and the fact that this Russian winter feeling is universal.

It doesn't seem to matter how successful they actually are; they can be middling, or do well. There just comes a point when something seems wrong -- either the sales are there, but the critical respect isn't, or vice versa, or someone else is Norah Roberts, etc., or you just want to write something that the agent feels he can't sell, etc. It's always something. I think of it, now, as a natural progression. Not a happy one; not a comfortable one -- but natural.

Heh. I ran into a fantasy writer at the Virginia Festival of the Book in March, and we spent some time in the hotel lobby discussing many of the same things that have come up here. Career unrest. Dealing with the marketplace as it is.

Unless you hit big with the first book, I don't think that the first flush lasts too long these days. That golden time after the first contract is signed, and the first book is turned in but not yet released, Before reviews and initial orders and sales figures. I met Kris Rusch around this time, and she told me to enjoy it. Looking back, I should have enjoyed it more, but I was already bracing for disappointment.

I am a fatalist--did I ever mention that?

But the other thing I sometimes find? Discussing it does help (well, it helps me). And I"m -really- happy to hear that writing went well.

Thanks. Things still aren't back to the way they were just yet. More a case of fits and starts, but at least I feel the urge now, and am starting to see the process as fun again.

I think one of the worst aspects of this dead zone time was the sense that succumbing to it meant that I was not a true professional. True pros shoulder on. The show must go on, and all that. A romance writer on another list posted how she always hit all her deadlines, despite losing parents, husband, a child. I wanted to send her an ALL-CAPS post--HOW THE HELL DID YOU RETAIN THE ABILITY TO FOCUS THROUGH ALL THAT? How did she form sentences, maintain the strength to inject any emotion at all into her work?

Some folks have told me that they are able to work through tragedies and emotional setbacks. Writing serves as a refuge, not something else that needs to be forced or fought. At times, I wish I was like that. But It works according to its own timetable--I've named that indefinable after Sturgeon's mindless thing that picks things to pieces just to see how they work--and doesn't pay attention to release dates, sales figures, and the like. Damn It, Love It, Hate It. Learn to live with It.