Really. Writing.

All right guys. It's time to shoot from the hip in a frank fashion. This is sort of how my writing career has evolved.

This might seem familiar to some of you. Each time a little more fantasy is peeled away, but the idea is that it is replaced by the more interesting possible.

This is my evolutionary path.

1. The want. At this point, my dream of writing is a day dream. I feel like I want to write, like life will be better if I write. I fantasize about writing lifestyles and money. I have not yet graduated college.

2. The frustration. Having determined that I want this fantasy writing life, I am aggravated that my real life and obligations continue to get in my way. I fantasize that writing will make me happy. With a little break through now and then in hobby writing, this predominates three college degrees and a few years as a professional.

3. The epiphany of time and talent. I realize that no one will make time for my writing but me. I realize strangers want to see my work. I fantasize that I am publishable. Epiphany occurs Memorial Day, 2007.

4. Goal driven writing approved by me with suggestions from friends. This has served me well up until this point, but has probably been the reason why I haven't been published as much as I like. On the pieces that have been published, talent shines through. I fantasize that writing is something I can do with less work than my thesis, and that publication is largely a matter of luck.

5. After workshop thesis equivalency theory. Well, sure I do have talent, and people do want to hear from me. I am in the top 2-3 percent of the slush pile. But my work could be so much more. It's a good thing I have people to push me now. Oh dear. It looks like this is going to be a lot like writing my thesis, both good and bad.
I can no longer write with the goal of just being finished. Ambiguity is back, in a big way.

I fantasize that I can make a meaningful contribution, maybe by writing a classic, if I roll up my sleeves, listen to other people, and really work.

What have I learned? My writing focus has gone from doing it for self-satisfaction and fun to a serious desire to create something lasting that is quality. My fantasy has gone from thinking how cool it will be to be a writer, to how difficult it is (which may not be a fantasy at all...).

I feel like I've been peeling away these layers of illusion until what's left is my talent and my skill scrutinized under the cold sun of the eyes of writers who evaluate me as they would each other.

Even the troll book seems monolithic at this point. Not insurmountable, but monolithic.

I console myself that it felt this way every stage of the thesis. And I still made it.

This is much more fun. I get to play some before I unleash the editing pen of Damocles. But the creative process is not what I thought it would be in the end, once I'm inside of it and I'm really listening to it.

Life is kind of interesting like that.

Catherine

Mirrored from Writer Tamago.

Cath Writes in the Afternoon

Not thwarted by colleague Kevin's free brunch entirely, I wrote 1850 words in 1.5 hours. This is keepable stuff. Here's our first scene.

Feldspar, pale as a December lake, looked at her from over the top of a silver goblet. His pale blue eyes met her dark ones. The wind roared outside of the cavern. Her eyes were almost black in comparison to the snow and ice and rock.

“We have an understanding?” His long fingers caressed the stem of the goblet.

“We do,” Quartz said. The wind filled the silence awkwardly. When it was all said and done, it was ironic that the downfall of his wife could be promised in two small words. Not only promised, Quartz was sure, but delivered.

She backed out of the cavern and melted into the night. Huddling into the deep ermine of her cloak, she plodded through deep drifts on the way back to the winter court. Inside the fragile bubble of warmth under her cape, she hugged her arms and turned her mind to the game of how to succeed.

***

Paradoxical. That's our Quartz.

Tonight, I'll put the finishing touches on getting ready for Icon. I'll be shuttling Jim Hines around this weekend, so expect my bandwith to lower tomorrow. As much as I love my authorly October, I will equally enjoy my writerly November, when I plan to write loads and loads more because I'll be AT HOME.

I also plan to read the very beginning of Miranda Stockett's new novel. You're not jealous now, maybe, but in five years you're going to remember this, and be totally jealous.

Catherine

Mirrored from Writer Tamago.