Believe it or not, for most of this year I have been suffering a terrible Writer's Block.
Actually, scratch that... I'm not sure I'm quite ready to consider myself 'a Writer'. Let's just say "there were things I was intending to write this year that, for reasons of depression and general incoherence of thought, I have thusfar been unable to write".
I've been able to blog reasonably well (apart from the silences of variable length) but blogging doesn't exercise the same muscles as 'Creative Writing: Fiction'. It is quite clear from this blog that I can write at length about essentially nothing.
Part of my trouble is that, when I start to have story ideas, they just don't seem to end. From many years ago, I have notes on eleven stories based around one particular protagonist, in addition to the two which are complete and the one that's been 'in progress' since 2003 (last worked on in 2004). From that set of notes sprung the seeds of two more series, each one based on another protagonist related to the first... and the vague possibility of a fourth series.
Then, about three years ago, ideas started streaming into my head about rebooting an idea I had way back in the early/mid 90s. Things still pop into my head for that (three volume) story, but only odd little details that could be worked in... the story isn't quite straight in my head yet... something is missing, or just not lucid enough.
[Addendum: this three-volume epic also contains another three volume epic of metafiction, though whether it would be worth attempting to write it out longform, or only the bits that might be relevant or interesting, I'm still not sure...]
More recently, having been utterly disillusioned by Torchwood (I gave up on Miracle Day about halfway through episode 2 or 3... But I'll probably force myself to watch it eventually), I came up with what I believe is a viable format for rebooting the series. Fan-fiction is one thing... this - seriously - is something else...
Once in a while (well, twice so far), a friend of mine decides that she'll forgo the traditional kind of birthday/Christmas present, and ask me to write a story. While this is easy on my wallet, it is far from easy on my mind. I find myself feeling quite terrorized... that I'm being coerced into an act of creative writing, and that the act of coercion will somehow undermine the creativity of the process.
Based on the evidence thusfar produced (under 900 words for the first story, just over 4,500 for the second!) nothing could be further from the truth. I mean, I'm not one to be pleased as punch with my own work... generally, I'm far more critical of anything I do than anyone else I know, and it's not just false modesty.
There's an old story about an author who would start his day's writing with about half a story... and, by the end of a hard day's work, he'd have about a quarter of a story. I'm not quite like that (well, sometimes...) but I am reluctant to work on something unless it's clear in my head or, at the very least, unless several of the characters are 'talking' to me clearly and regularly. Most of my stories begin in the form of dialogue between characters, which just pops into my head, completely at random and generally at the least convenient moment possible. I've told many people that I've forgotten more story ideas than I'd ever be able to write, because I just wasn't able to take notes when they occurred.
I know, I know. A smart phone would help, these days.
So when my friend this year requested a 'Torchwood at Christmas' story, I inwardly cringed... and then, almost immediately, came up with two possible storylines.
And I'm no stranger to that phenomenon. The first time she asked me for a story, I came up with two ideas quite quickly, but then the final, not-quite-900-word epic was something completely different, which occurred to me late one night, several weeks after the story's due date... and which was infinitely superior to either of the other two ideas.
Of the two ideas I had for 'Torchwood at Christmas', I favoured one (because it seemed more interesting and less emotionally challenging). Yesterday, I spent most of the day working on it... actually writing it out, for a change, rather than just 'developing notes'. To begin with, I was writing it out by hand, staying away from computer and the distracting allure of teh interwebs. By the time I'd got halfway through (more or less) I decided I'd better get back to the computer (hrrrrrrr... must... resist... internet...) and start typing, lest I make myself late my transcribing an entire story from my drunken spider handwriting into something both readable and electronically portable.
I took a couple of short breaks to deal with chores (and - ahem - blog, albeit briefly) and, later in the day, to watch a bit of television... but I finally completed the story to my satisfaction at about a quarter to one this morning.
And then found myself unable to sleep because my mind was racing.
Although, to be fair, it's been like that for a few days now... Maybe it's seasonal excitement, but I am back in a slightly insomniac state.
On the bright side, though, one more finished story. And on time, too.
Can't be bad...
No comments:
Post a Comment