Remember this: story process note
May. 9th, 2007 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pantryslutIn the middle of rewriting a story yesterday, I was totally frustrated. Every word I wrote stank on ice. My prose was just not coming together. I let out a stream of not-very-creative curses that startled both my sweeties.
Then I sat back down and kept writing.
It got better. A lot better, in fact. I went to bed reasonably sure that it was a good story, that it was doing what I wanted it to do.
I'm noting this here because I feel the same way, on a less acute and more chronic level, with the project thingy I am working on. So if I can remember that it gets better if I keep writing and working on it, that, like dough, it will eventually come together even if it looks like an incoherent mess right now...
Also, in the middle, I reminded myself that what I was doing was *hard*. I'd chosen a tricky thing to try. It takes extra attention and care. And that's OK.
Yes, folks, this is what living with a temperamental writer is like! Us artists, we're such a gas.
*
The rest of my night: I ate yummy food from the Israeli place. There were many pregnant women there. Steven encourages me to think it is causative. I wonder if it's merely correlative, as pregnant women are known to have cravings, and btw the pickles at this place are really yummy and they put them in their sandwiches so there you go. Maybe when I am pregnant, I will be compelled to come to this place regularly. Not such a bad fate.
Then I sat back down and kept writing.
It got better. A lot better, in fact. I went to bed reasonably sure that it was a good story, that it was doing what I wanted it to do.
I'm noting this here because I feel the same way, on a less acute and more chronic level, with the project thingy I am working on. So if I can remember that it gets better if I keep writing and working on it, that, like dough, it will eventually come together even if it looks like an incoherent mess right now...
Also, in the middle, I reminded myself that what I was doing was *hard*. I'd chosen a tricky thing to try. It takes extra attention and care. And that's OK.
Yes, folks, this is what living with a temperamental writer is like! Us artists, we're such a gas.
*
The rest of my night: I ate yummy food from the Israeli place. There were many pregnant women there. Steven encourages me to think it is causative. I wonder if it's merely correlative, as pregnant women are known to have cravings, and btw the pickles at this place are really yummy and they put them in their sandwiches so there you go. Maybe when I am pregnant, I will be compelled to come to this place regularly. Not such a bad fate.
