I'm at the hard part of my book proposal. The part where I have first drafts of all six sample chapters, and now I have to revise them. Extensively. Imagine two glaciers colliding, and that's about the sound and speed of this part of the process for me. Lots of grinding and crunching and the squeals of rock hard ice compressing. And that's just to get to the place where I feel like I can sit down and do anything!
At times I think inebriation would help (certainly it's a time-honored practice of writers everywhere, and one I've used with marked success in the past), but that only works for the composition component. The editing part needs coherency and cohesion and clarity.
Sometimes I think I'm not supposed to do this right now, but if not now, then when? Boulders of insecurity roll around in my head, and I find wonderful ways to distract myself from the noise.
Comments on "Grinding Ice"
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Randal
March 2nd, 2004 · 3:01 PM · #
Poor Ariel… I feel your pain dear. I've literally shed tears trying to get my paintings finished (an artist's process is pretty much the same, whatever the medium). It's fighting through that frustration that separates the would-be from the is, I think. (Talk about having a new appreciation for those truly great individuals who actually finish something).
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer…" ;]
John
March 2nd, 2004 · 4:26 PM · #
Oh Ariel, to be young and have this problem again I say NAY, do ye hear me? NAY I say…all day and all the way, HEY, I'm so gay I want to play by the bay and feel the spray of the magical froo-froo bunny.
That was a spur of the moment free-flow, great writers like myself often break this shit down for other peoples enjoyment, please feel free to enjoy that poem as long as you like, I know I will. But back to your issue.
Let me just say that I felt this very same way when I was trying to get my first works published. They were a collection of short stories on how I felt about taking naps and recess and stuff, titled TAKE THE DOG OUT JOHN AND OTHER THINGS MY MOTHER TOLD ME TO DO, and my 3rd grade teacher had YET to grade it. She took her sweet time and when I finally got them back I had moved on to the next project of short stories dealing with fatherly advice entitled GET YOUR BIKE OFF THE LAWN OR I'LL KICK YOUR ASS 3 WAYS FROM SUNDAY, A FATHERS VERY TOUGH LOVE. I actually have never been published but I dreamed about it a couple of times..until Battle Star Gallactica came on and then all bets were off. What were we talking about?
Katherine
March 2nd, 2004 · 4:41 PM · #
oh . . . the lure of tequila and cigarettes . . . 'cause you know that'll make the writing sooooo much more sparkly
You are a good writer . . . it's probably the weaselly mind just giving you a run for your money . . . can't wait (along with the rest of your blogees 
to read what you're working on!
mark
March 2nd, 2004 · 9:12 PM · #
You'll be diddling around the house and the mail will come. A package will arrive. This is not expected (which is not to say unexpected) . . . and it's your book, all glossy and neatly typeset. Like the sort of book you'd find in a library. You will remember that day for, maybe, ever. It's damn close and worth the unpleseant, tiring, annoying grind right now.
Randal
March 3rd, 2004 · 2:42 AM · #
Right on Mark - that's the stuff.
paisley
March 3rd, 2004 · 3:07 AM · #
keep at it sweets!
and im in comment love with john-hah!
too funny!
donut
March 4th, 2004 · 7:19 AM · #
ooh, can I trade with you? I can't wait until I get to the editing part. I keep itching to go back and edit my earlier chapters, but I won't allow myself until I finish the rough draft… which, at this rate, will be sometime next century.