Excuse my frailty; I have to engage in a moment of gratuitous narcissism. This book is really annoying me.
Unfortunately, it’s not even one where I can say, “have you read it?” and we can commiserate over it. It’s my own ruddy project.
But perhaps later, after it has covers on, you can complain to me about it and I’ll sympathize with you about the idiot that wrote it.
Mucho Problemo Inmaturo
For the last four and a half months, I’ve been in heavy revisions of a 100,000 word project. It has threefold problems, or I should say the idiot writing it does:
1) I began it years ago, before I had the craftsmanship skills to write it effectively.
2) I began it before I had sufficient emotional maturity.
3) I began it before I had sufficient philosophical perspective.
So that’s a lot of renovating. Approximately four hundred pages’ worth.
GAH.
Ergo I Annoy Others
I had hoped to conclude the heavy redrafting by the end of January, take a breather and make a polishing pass, as it needs to be done by April at latest. Since that didn’t happen, I’ve become obsessive, reclusive and even more obsessive.
Endings do that to me. My poor colleague suffered through this mania last summer on our co-authored project.
Poor Wile E. Quixote.
Somebody Needs to Make the Whining Stop
I believe it’s because there’s so much unfinished in my life. I never finished my music degree. I never finished the major orchestral work I wanted to write by age thirty. I never really finished the finishing touches on our home renovations. I’m not finished living, dammit, and this thing, this blasted rat’s nest of words and ideas, is interfering with that!
And as for educating and cleaning up after the children, well, the word “finished” just means “time to start over again.” New This Week! With Germs!
Oh, woe is me. First-world problems.
But This is Good, Right?
So, let me pause to count my blessings:
1) A husband who wants me to finish this, for my own sake, even though it means definite side effects for our family and marriage time. Bless his sweet heart. He even brings me chocolate.
2) A writing partner who insists on waiting for me and emailing me regular encouragements: “Write a great scene today, okay?” You can’t buy friends like that, you know.
3) The experienced professionals who’ve bolstered me with clear-eyed evaluations and notes of encouragement.
4) A new set of great earbuds to help me tune the world out.
5) The understanding and independence of my children. One of whom just wandered through in a monkey hat to show me some fantabulous portrait sketching she’s been working on. (Monkey hat! I’m raising them right.)
6) Random people who feed me in front of my computer. I think they live here.
7) Oh! And lunch. I like lunch.
And Yet…
However. This book?
It’s still annoying me.
Ach, feeling your pain, Cat. And now I know why I have problems with my books . . . I still don’t have sufficient emotional maturity. But you do! You CAN do it!
You’ll laugh, Stephanie–on the flipside, while I have a better grasp of how to grow the characters now, they’re still young, and I’m struggling with keeping their natural mindset fitted to their age. Facepalm.
I had the same 3 problems as you when I first started working on my book. However, I combated that by continually rewriting it as I grew up, so it’s grown and matured as I have.
I’m having enough trouble editing it as it is. I can’t imagine going back to the first draft that my 14 year old self wrote and trying to polish that. *Shudder*.
Editing isn’t so much the problem for me, thankfully, because I do it for a living. My biggest headache is that a newly-drafted scene never has as much depth in it as I think it should…I have to constantly remind myself that’s what the second pass is for.
Trust me Cat, I do understand and to add to my own angst, I have (if all things average out) a lot less years than you to take care of unfinished writing business. And just as I was ready to engage you for some fiction coaching I find myself neck deep in alligators with a ghost writing project that has put all fiction on hold until after May. I don’t know what I would do if I still had children at home. Thankfully I too have a supportive spouse, thought our two dogs are totally disinterested in what goes on at this desk.
Y’know, having a long view (I have X years for this, and X for that) is the one thing that keeps me sane at the moment. Even as it stands I’m too often tempted to try to live my life all at once.
Those are some really great alligators to be neck-deep in, though! I think that’s totally cool.
Your misery has company, Cat. Did you say you’re at the ending? That’s something to be thankful for. I’m truck in’ along at 67%, and at the growing total of 111k, I’m thinking it’s going to be a hard sell for a first novel. The plus side is that we’ll be much better writers on the other side, right?
I’m at 71%. It’s the downhill, but it’s all rewrites from here on out, which means it’s not going to be done-done. Line editing heaves into view…
And yes, it does totally change one’s writing world. Anytime one writes The End, it means more change has happened than we realize. That’s the great thing.
Cat, you owe it to the world to get your writing out in print. At the very least you owe it to me, because I’ve been waiting for an age to read your stuff, which I know is going to be epic (the only question is: how epic?).
Lunch is always good, especially if it’s cheesecake-flavoured.
Aww, thank you. I’m not sure how epic it’ll be at all, at this point, to be honest. But hopefully it’ll be fun to read either way.
Okay, now I’m thinking I might see if there’s any way to get my hands on some cheesecake for lunch.
Oh, my, you sound SO much like me right now. The whole “nothing is ever complete!!” sentiment is awful and unsettling, mostly because it’s so true! But I’m also thankful for a supportive husband, and I have to force myself to think on the things that I have accomplished rather than completed. For example, I did finish an English degree, even if it was only a soft degree at the BA level. And I’ve tecnically completed 5 books, even if only one is almost in a state that can be self-pubbed. I’ve also had four children, who, of course, aren’t complete, but are in varying stages ranging from practically babyhood to almost adulthood. Speaking of my supportive husband, I recently had a mental crisis about the mechanical engineering degree I just started, about how it will cost us so much, when we’re still paying off my previous degree, and he told me he didn’t care about money and knew I needed the intellectual project (not to mention, of course, that this degree might be good for an actual job that pays money).
Okay, if you need a beta reader, I’m raising my hand and waving it in the air. I might be able to inspire you to finish it.
I think you found one of the coolest husbands going. I tend to suffer a fair bit of guilt about time costs for my pursuits, never mind financial.
I vote we count the incomplete children.
I started counting the mere fact of birthing them, back at the time. That’s no small feat.
I really do feel for you. I was reading this nodding and agreeing as I was in a similar predicament not too long ago. I had to go back to the very beginning and ruthless, yes utterly ruthless and kill my darlings to get it done. And the middle…let’s not even talk about the middle. I’m not sure it helps to know you have company
It totally does help. Thanks.
I feel ya! I’m in the same boat with my novel. I’ve been working on it for 10 years, learning everything the hard way with it. The emotional maturity hits home too. Years ago, I realized the “walls” I have up in my own life to protect me, interfered with my ability to write real characters. It’s been an amazing journey.
Keep on keeping on! Can’t wait to see you shine, you are awesome!
Thanks so much, Jeannette! Isn’t it interesting how writing grows us? It kinda dragged me through my 20′s and taught me to consider the how and why of the way I look at things.
This is a fourth ms, but it’s also a 10-year project. One industry professional I spoke to referred to it as “intricate,” and that’s the problem: it’s taken all those years to figure out what’s intricate and what’s confusing clutter. I told my writing partner I’ll probably burst into tears or go numb when I write “the end” on it.
Well, you do have me curious.
Oh, cool! That makes my day.
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