I’m writing a novel presently and each chapter feels worse than the last. It is a first draft and I generally take those very very seriously to the point where I get stuck on the language of a draft and fail to move the work forward because I can’t figure out a phrase or something doesn’t sound as great as I want. Over the last 15 days I’ve been putting in 1000 words a day on the novella I am presently writing. I’m doing it without going back and fixing things. I am doing it without worrying about anything but writing the 1000 words a day I’ve promised myself. It feels pretty damn good.
The story is bad. Woefully bad. It is about as bad and cliche as a draft can get, but that is the beauty of the thing. I don’t think it can be good on the first run. It needs a ton of editing to be remotely successful. In other words, I’ve removed the pressure of a perfect first draft. I did so with great difficulity, but having done so I feel amazing about it. I feel like I have the freedom to fail at a scene so long as I write it all the way through to the end.
Some Thoughts:
- Still have this strange feeling I am living in a simulation and at times the simulation breaks down or oversimplifies as a way to conserve its memory banks.
- One of those oversimplifications feels like the appearance of certain dogs once that kind of dog becomes important in my life. Another is the way that insects and birds instinctively move and ‘flock’