Monday 29 October 2012

Whinge



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It's been a while since my last blog post, partly due to pressure of work outside of writing (this is still officially a hobby for me unfortunately) and partly because despondency has crept thoughout my brain at the whole process. I won't go into details as it would be whinging of the highest order as I knew that this would be an uphill struggle (taking years) from the start, but I was hoping I'd have a little more to show for my efforts than I do at the moment.
 
I have had a lot of support with my writing from family, friends and readers and I feel I'm letting them down now when I get to the computer to write and the stress of work or family crushes all sense of narrative structure. I end up writing absolute junk just to try and get some words down, trying to force my mind to pull something worthwhile from the mess in my mind, which then makes me more depressed on the read back.
 
Coffee has to go, I know that. I need more sleep too but I've just signed up for NaNoWriMo so that's going to be a tall order.
 
On the plus side I had a delightfully creepy dream the other night that I'm writing into a short story. It's another biscuit jammed into my already crammed barrel of a life but it's at least gettting the mind working again. I'll post it on the blog as soon as it's finished. 

Friday 5 October 2012

Words and blogs.

Well, The blog has been up for the best part of two months (I think, I can't be bothered to check), and I've tried to be quite regular in my updating, but it's very hard to keep to. This is not particularly due to time constraints (my early morning writing sessions are becoming quite a habit, though getting up at half four is a lot less fun now it is so very dark), but more to do with the fact that I fear that I will have nothing interesting to say. I have a lot less issue with people reading my fiction than actually having to describe it. Writing a synopsis for the Harper Voyager submission was an acute torture and I felt embarressed with every word. My greatest worry is appearing childish. Are my ideas juvenile for my age? The Dr Who poster I have put up in my makeshift study could suggest that... but I like to think I have a reasonable maturity in most areas of my life. I've recently had a look around some others blogs and seen people younger than me wrapping words into meanings that I would never think of, clearly fans of literary fiction. I remember being bamboozled by such books at university, trying hard to find some sort of enjoyment in them. I can see the skill certainly, but the books I have enjoyed the most have strong and interesting ideas well conveyed. I will just have to hope that my writing style develops over the years to such a level where I can convey some good ideas in a fairly skillful way.
No Hundred Years of Solitude here!