Oct. 7th, 2004

eccentrici: Oz/Devon OTP (Default)
Well, real life pretty much kicked my ass last month, but this month, I'm kicking back! With a vengeance! And extreme prejudice!

The good news--I'm writing again. I haven't written anything except journal entries in 14 years. Okay, that's not really true. Stories are always writing themselves in my mind. I just don't take the time to write them down on paper and shape them into something solid.

I've been trying to devise creative ways to jump start my writing. I cleaned off my desk so I would have a nice, distraction-free place to write. I set aside time to write. I created a space conducive to writing. Nothing happened. I managed to squeeze out a few sentences, and then froze. I have notebooks full of ideas, and now I'm completely blank. To make matters worse, the story I'm trying to write has a deadline. And it's for a person a really admire (yes, it's you [livejournal.com profile] dolores). And I'm not good at deadlines. And I suck. And I'm going to hell. Pressure mounts. Nada. Not a word. The muse is still there, she just doesn't want to come out and play with me.

Then, something I said a few months ago in a chat comes back to haunt me. On OzMIA (a mostly het list with a smattering of slash), I mentioned doing an Oz Advent Calendar. Everyone thought it was a good idea, but there weren't any volunteers to organize it at the time. Suddenly, someone comes forward to do it, but moves the date to October and volunteers me to write the first story. WTF? As the song goes, I'm just a girl who can't say no.

Now, I have two stories to write. At this point, one is already overdue and one is due in 5 days. I stare at the paper and am horrified by the white space. I stare at the computer screen and that white space is just mocking me!

It's October 1st, my OzMIA story is supposed to kick off October and my ficathon story is one month late. I can't do it. For some reason, I bring my notebook to bed. I haven't done that in a while because writing in bed is not that comfortable. I can't sleep. I pick up the notebook and start reading through story ideas. I just need to write something. Anything. It doesn't matter what it is. It doesn't matter if it's good. I just need to write. I start writing. It's silly and fluffy, but it's actual words on a page. I'm writing.

The next morning, I look at what I wrote and I like it. It's still silly and fluffy (and short), but that's okay for OzMIA. They like that. I shape it up and post it. Now, I can't stop writing. I have to make myself do other things. I am completely overhauling the ficathon story, and if I get that finished in time, I'm doing NaNoWriMo.

Now, back to writing [livejournal.com profile] dolores' ficathon story featuring go-go boys, drag queens, Catholic priests, schizophrenics, junkies, and a purple Sharpie pen.

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eccentrici: Oz/Devon OTP (Default)
eccentrici

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