Sunday

What are you writing?

For the first time in forever, I sat down and wrote something today. It's 400 words of . . . well, I'm not sure what. Maybe a picture book. It was nice to be creating something, to write something that wasn't comments on someone else's work. I like editing, but some days it gets depressing to read other people's ingenious writing and then have your cleverest thought of the day be, "does this sentence really need that adverb?" That's what it felt like yesterday when I spent 5, yes 5, hours plugging in copyedit changes into a layout. It took so long because it was a 300 page novel that had been reformatted so that the hardcopy that had been CEed didn't match the electronic copy I was trying to fix. I had to visually locate every sentence that needed changing. And there was one on nearly every page.

But writing today helped bring back my creative equilibrium. Still, even as I was typing away, I couldn't help but wonder to myself, what are you writing? I have that thesis I need to finish. I'm supposed to write a second Fergus picture book. I'm trying to develop a rhyming picture book about llamas for Regan. And instead I spend 45 minutes creating this quiet little 400 word picture book thing about a girl's search for the definition of a word and whether or not she wants to accept this word as a definition of herself. And I don't know what to do with it now. I couldn't even think of a title. If it were someone else, I would reccommend they take it to their critique group and then consider submitting to appropriate houses and/or agents. Perhaps someday I'll take my own advice.

2 comments:

Judy said...

It's so easy to put our own writing off and do everything else first. I've been trying to finish the last four chapters of my next mid-grade forever, but keep getting tied up in critiquing and other activities that involve other writers.

That llama book in rhyme sounds interesting...let me know if you want some help.

JudyM.

krw3b said...

Llamas in pajamas

soaking up the sun in the Bahamas.

Dreaming of their mamas.

Arguing who likes Barack Obama's

over-use of commas.

Ending up engaged in llama dramas

over certain squamous

cell carcinomas.


Note to self: Don't drink and rhyme.