Write or Die

I’m running low on blog topics. 

I went to one of those sites that give ideas and they suggested lists and tips and such, which I simply do not do.  Unless I’m listing things that piss me off, or giving tips on managing panic attacks.  Right now, it is two in the afternoon and raining, and I don’t feel like doing much of anything, let alone writing, but here I sit racking my brain for ideas because if I don’t write, I’ll die.

That sounds dramatic, but it’s the way I look at things.  Everything inspires me, from some beautiful experience of nature to a song with amazing lyrics.  I watch television and analyze storylines and dialogue.  I read books and wonder how the author managed to get so many words out of them.  Everything pushes me to write, from convos with Hubs to interactions with strangers.  If I were to not write about it, it would all live in my head and weigh on me until I crumble.  So, write or die.  Which is my credo right now.  Why?

During the month of November, I will be doing NaNoWriMo.  I have decided that I will blog about my progress on Thursdays.  I will have to type at least 1,666 words a day for a month to accomplish my goal.  This is both daunting and exciting.  I am currently ready to roll, with an outline, several pages of character development and notes, and an idea of what I want to accomplish.  I am working on little things right now, like preparing my office, making a writing playlist, and working on a storyboard on Pinterest.  I can’t wait to actually start writing, and Friday cannot come soon enough. 

Finishing this novel means a lot to me.  It’s not just some fun little experiment I am trying out, it’s more important than that.  It’s the first steps towards a future doing what I want to do instead of what someone is telling me I should be doing.  I am committed to finishing my novel, editing it, and getting it out there for the world to see.  Yes, that’s some big ambition and lots of pressure to put on myself, but I am doing it because it needs to be done.  I need pressure to work well, and I need to see what I can accomplish with a deadline. 

My dream, perhaps lofty, is to someday publish my book and make money off it.  I suppose this is a dream of many writers.  Yes, my biggest hope is that people will read my work, but I wouldn’t be opposed to them buying it as well.  I have been lost at sea this past year, unable to work due to illness, and I want to be able to do something that brings a paycheck into this house.  Yes, it will take time.  Yes, it will be a lot of work.  But yes, I believe myself capable.

The only thing, besides my brief foray into theater, that I consider myself talented at is writing.  Yes, I generally think everything I write is trash, but there are these moments…I will be rereading something I write, and I will forget that I am the one who wrote it.  I will be transported to this world where I am just the reader, and after I snap out of it, I am amazed with myself.  This happens on occasion and always pushes me a little harder when it does.  I come out of my trance believing that I really can write something good that someone will like, something that may even be ::gasp:: marketable. 

Marketing oneself is my downfall.  For instance, I read somewhere that publishers like to see a high follow count on Twitter.  I don’t know how true this is, but I figured it can’t hurt and went hard in the Twitterverse for the past couple months trying to get my follower count up.  Which worked out really well, because I have met some awesome writing folk this way.  However, I don’t think my number of Twitter followers should have anything to do with whether or not someone publishes my manuscript.  I see a lot of these Twitter authors using the platform for marketing their work and developing a brand, another thing that seems foreign to me.  I am trying to do the same, but as I have said many times, it feels like a combination of begging and bragging, and I’m just no good at either.  I know I’m putting the cart before the horse when I discuss marketing before having a publisher.  Still, these things must be thought about.  It’s the following step, and if I truly want to believe in myself, I must believe that step is coming. 

I must believe it is all coming.

I must believe I can write those 1,666 words a day, because otherwise, I will die inside from lack of trying.  I write because I have to, and now it is my novel’s turn to be written.  I am terrified; I am ecstatic.  I am sure I will have many moments of doubt and frustration.  I am hoping, always, that I will have moments where I read the words I wrote and forget that I penned them.  Either way, I will push myself to make this work, because I don’t have a choice, you see.

Write or die.

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