It's Friday again. Well, just into Friday, we're talking minutes and half hours. I haven't blogged for days. Partly because I've been busy and partly because I just couldn't think of anything. This post would have appeared before midnight had I not spent two hours catching up on the latest episodes of Carnivale and Six Feet Under (series 4) , both of which I'm watching on Virgin Media's TV Choice service. We're up to episode 10 on each now. I do love a good drama.
I'm having problems with the Summer Of Fantasy thing. I don't read fantasy, I don't write fantasy (not writing much of anything at the moment) so why I signed up for it, I don't know. I'm in yet another of my all too frequent writing crises. My Dad actually suggested that if I find it so hard, why don't I stop, try something else? That's a toughie. I've always written, since I was small. It used to be a lot easier. Then I began to take it seriously and now it's hard. It's a confidence thing, a perfectionist thing, a pressure thing.
It doesn't help that I can't plan a novel. I find it far easier to simply start writing and things will happen as I type. Characters appear, the story untangles and somewhere by the end I know what it's all about. That wouldn't be a problem, except that from there I ought to take all the elements and edit the hell out of them before rewriting the whole thing. That's not something I've managed so far.
So I know where I'm failing as a writer: discipline, plotting and editing. That's a start. And a little self-assurance would be good too. Maybe what I really need is just to throw all the instructions out of the window and just write. After all, I've written four and a half novels during NaNoWriMo, it's the rest of the year I struggle with.
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