Hello, fellow drifters. I woke up early today (though not as early as intended, of course) with the determination to write fiction. This year, I’ve put so much energy into writing and placing pieces of criticism or non-fiction (not much luck with this, still) that the fiction has sort of taken a back seat.
Recently, I’ve been reading two books on writing: HOW FICTION WORKS by James Wood, and FROM WHERE YOU DREAM by Robert Olen Butler. HOW FICTION WORKS is a really incredible book not only for writers but for readers and aspiring critics as well. I’m not all that far in FROM WHERE YOU DREAM YET, but it has been a positive motivating factor to sit at the computer expressly to dream, again; rather than to sit and think (Unlike Butler, I’m not so sure yet these are mutually exclusive.)
Anyways, I woke up, walked to the computer, and sat down. And realized I could do nothing. It was like I’d never written a word of fiction in my life; just like Butler said would happen. I didn’t just give up, of course. I hadn’t brought my phone with me, so no escape there. I’d even turned off my second monitor, so it was just myself and my word processor. I ended up tweaking the first chapter of my manuscript which I still feel sort of good about, and then realized a flaw in the chronology of my book. Somehow, it just never occurred to me before.
I guess all this is to say, that like most things, writing fiction is a process, and I need to get back into the swing of it. Though, waking up with the express intent to write fiction, trying to do that for an hour or so first thing in the morning, before showering or eating breakfast or whatever, was a really nice experience; gonna try and keep that up.