|My current bedside companion|
We’re two months into the year, and, excluding NaNoWriMo, I’ve already doubled my word count from 2014.
Committing to everyday writing is exactly what I needed to get out of my post collegiate writing funk. It’s really hard to do something when you don’t have an outside deadline or overall grade pushing you along.
Not everything I’ve written has been great in 2015 (nor 2014 for that matter). A lot of it hasn’t. I’m not even close to finishing one story. But they’re words, story starts, and writing through ideas before I get a chance to tell myself no.
There was a lot of that stop and go last year. I wanted the idea and the characters and the story that was going to catapult me to true author status. So, I didn’t take a lot of risks. I wrote things I was comfortable with. Ideas that I’d felt out before. Stayed in the safe zone.
|A small sample of the filled handwritten notebooks taking up space in my office|
A lot of those files are boring. They feel old to me, like I was regurgitating a pattern instead of creating anything new. Sure, character names and settings had changed, but if I put the plot points on a map, the trajectories and hit markers would’ve matched.
You bring a different set of tools to everyday writing. Sometimes the only thing that gets the fingers typing are the crazy, off the wall ideas. I don’t put pressure on the words anymore either. I just appreciate that they’re there on the page.
It’s also been about getting reacquainted with my old writing self. Sometimes I come to the computer with no ideas, so I pull up the forgotten files, pilfer them for interesting plots, a character I like, anything to spark some kind of creative flow.
Basically, it’s just nice to have no pressure writing time where my only concern is getting words out and not so much read by others.