Sunday December 1st 2019
It feels so strange writing this blog post and knowing it will be out there on the internet for anyone to see.
Really, it only feels that way because I have been writing these little blog-style entries in my own personal, private, never seen the light of day journal, where I document my struggles and triumphs in my writing journey.
I remember when I first came up with the idea for my WIP (which was a LONG time ago), I felt the need to keep track of my progress because if all else fails, if I never get published or see my book on shelves, I will at least have the proof that I worked hard through every twist and turn and teeth-pulling writing sessions. A record of the days when everything I typed out was absolute garbage. And the days, when it was pure bliss.
Of course, actually finishing the draft will be a success all on it’s own, but until then these updates for myself and other’s who may be wondering if they’re the only ones in this, will have to suffice.
The WIP I am currently working on has been in my head for years and years. It slowly turned into ideas, and moments, and lines some of my characters might say. I wrote anything that came to mind on scraps of paper that soon became full-fledged brainstorming notebooks, that turned into my attempt to write out the first draft.
That shit sucked.
Like no, seriously, it was so horrible, I think I might have puked at the sight of it.
Attempt #1, in Fall of 2017.
Not all of it was bad, later I came to realize it had some ideas and kernnels that can be revisted and fleshed out, but overall … it was pure and utter shit.
I, then tried again to write over the course of three years, which turned into multiple half-finished, quarter started, and barely even putting ink to paper drafts of the same story. Finally, I decided enough was enough with the starting then stopping of my first draft because I just couldn’t get the ‘right’ words out, and it wasn’t ‘flowing’ as it should, and the character’s entire motive is ‘hazy’. I figured I had to sit and try to plot some things out – which was a feat as I am not a big plotter, but more of a pantser (someone who doesn’t really plot in a traditional sense).
Eventually, I was ready to write again. I decided I would participate in the National November Writing Month 2019 or NaNoWriMo. But fate has a funny sense of humor because Halloween night when I was submerged in the spookiest, most magical night of all … I realized a MAJOR plot issue in my story. So major, I spent all of November yanking, and pulling, and threading all parts of my story instead of participating in the writing month of the year.
November was really just me, endlessly pacing around my house like a mad-woman on the verge of tears because I felt so bad. I felt like I can’t do it. I cannot write this book.
It was then, in the midst of my breakdown, that I realized I wasn’t actually breaking down. The thought of me not telling this story did not set as deeply as I thought it had. Despite the endless self-doubt, I had the upmost confidence in this story. It was a story meant to be told, and I was the one meant to tell it.
Throughout my entire mishap with planning, plotting, and drafting, that one point remained true. This is a story that needs to be heard, if only by one person, if only by the teller themselves.
That very thought, got me in my chair, at my desk, and working tirelessly until I worked out the kinks and holes in plot, characters, and setting.
Now, with 6 half-there drafts under my belt, I will begin drafting the first draft of this story for the seventh time!
Point is… your story is yours and is meant to be told, by YOU no less.
As I finish writing this post, I will drink an insane amount of coffee, roll up my sleeves, and get started on this story, on the SEVENTH FIRST DRAFT that will be the LAST FIRST DRAFT of this WIP!!!
WE CAN DO THIS!