I’ve reached the end of my blogging for 30 days spectacular.
I’m pretty happy about that.
I found out that it’s really hard to think of thirty interesting blog entries sequentially.
But it has kickstarted my interest in writing and has gotten some gears turning again that I thought would be forever rusted up.
I’ll be back to blog here next week (Monday!) but I need a small cooling off period.
And I’m sure you’ll be glad of the break as well.
Thank you for reading,
I’m not a plotter.
I don’t like planning out my stories at all. It robs me of the thrill of discovery. I sometimes start a story having no idea where it’s going to go, but that’s what makes writing exciting to me. I can go on the same journey as someone reading the story as I go.
But starting a story with no particular place to go might explain why I have so much trouble finishing my stories.
But I’m tackling a story that demands I know the ending before I start, so I’m trying to write it before I write it.
So far, my notes read like a madman’s paranoid manifesto, but I think I’m getting somewhere. And I think there’s room to discover in between the plotting, the hidden secrets between bullet points.
I can keep the mystery hidden from myself this way, at least for a little longer.
I’m nearing the end of my experiment to write in this blog every day and I’m looking forward to that last day.
There’s only so much I can say, day in and day out and I’m sure there are days when y’all could tell I was checked out, especially on those 11:00pm postings.
But it’s made me think more and more about how I view the world, how I approach writing and getting me back into some kind of writing shape.
I feel I analyze things more, pay attention more, and put more effort into my writing in general.
So I want to thank you for bearing with me through this process. After this period is over, I’ll be going to a more regular posting schedule, down to two or three entries per week.
Talk to you tomorrow.
Music and I have an iffy relationship at best. I’ve never been the kind of person who sits and just…listens to music. The idea of doing that doesn’t even really make sense to me, although I’m aware that my attention span requires a very specific set of circumstances to keep me in my seat.
Most of the time, music for me is background. It’s just there if I need a certain amount of distraction to keep me focused on my writing or cleaning or whatever. If I’m writing a western story, I like to have Hank Williams. If I’m writing horror, I like AC/DC. If I’m writing a my 22nd consecutive blog entry, it’s anything.
Although, today it’s the James Bond themes on repeat again.
Because if there is something that i will listen to over and over and over again, it’s soundtracks.
I have an immediate emotional connection to a soundtrack that I don’t have with just a random song. And this applies to terrible soundtracks as well. It doesn’t matter how creatively bankrupt a song is if it conjures up images of giant robots cutting through sharkticons with buzzsaws.
In my heart, I feel like this makes me a bad person, that I should appreciate music more for what it is on its own. The chords and the melodies and the notes and…the other…things and pieces.
But…in the end, I know I’m just to continue to use music as a tool for other purposes, rather than appreciating it for what it is on its own.
I lost the internet today.
I’m not exactly devastated by the loss, but it’s cramped my style, at least as far as blogging goes.
So, I’m going to apologize in advance for what’s going to be a tedious entry.
But, God as my witness, I hate writing on my phone. Texting, blogging, snapping: whatever it is, it puts my back up.
I’m not gong to pretend there’s anything deep or meaningful about this.
“It’s the confinement. My words don’t have the space to breathe. ”
Lord knows I’m never pompous or overwrought.
I read a article about a writer who would dictate into her phone and I felt genuinely angry.
I think that says a lot about me and none of it really good.
I think I’m going to wrap this up.
It’s been seventeen days since I start to write continuously, both in this blog and off the blog and I don’t know how this is impacting me at this point.
On the one hand, I’ve written more in this short two weeks than I did in the last six months prior to starting this experiment.
And I feel that it has been generally of better quality.
Well, I don’t know about the blog.
The blog has been the hardest part of this, constantly trying to come up with something even new to talk about without this just being an entire month of beer reviews and writing about writing.
I think, at the very least, I’ll level up my discipline a smidge.
And that might be worth this whole process.
I’ve never been someone who likes to write in public. The thought of setting up my laptop in the local coffee shop, which will most likely be a Starbucks, and proceeding to tap away makes me cringe inwardly.
But that’s what I’m doing this morning.
I have time to spare this morning, time to kill, and I’ll be damned if I let a spare minute slip away.
That’s been an interesting side effect of writing every day and really pushing myself toward writing more each day instead of just a hundred words here and there. I look forward to it and I’m starting to have things to say again.
Always write, always keep writing, if you want to do this for a living, you should always be writing.
I still don’t like writing in public though.
Signing off from a Starbucks in Waltham.