I have been a fraud and a failure. I feel I have let my planner down. I had written in that Monday was my day “off“ day from writing – because it was going to be muggy and warm and I knew I would come home from work after the weekend and melt into a puddle with a book, possibly nap, and not want to write. Well, I did the same thing all week, only I didn’t even READ. Under all the fancy purple headers that say “write”, there is nothing. Nothing but a fail. I did nothing but eat pasta and watch Youtube. This is not how you should conduct yourself during Camp NaNaWriMo.
But I do have a massive manuscript on my desk. It’s in no state finished – that is why it’s on the desk. I got a nice swipe of editing done, as far as cleaning up the pronouns (always a tricky deal for me) and cleaning up the prose. Now I have to get down to the brass tacks and start cutting into this giant tree-loin, because it’s got problems.
I don’t know how long it’s been, but it’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen one of my works in for God’s-Own-Truth physical print. Like, paper and ink. Like, pounds of manuscript, sitting on my desk, artfully arranged with a couple of post-its, pens and washi tape. This isn’t how I usually work.
I’m a cyber girl.
I am usually fully digital, save for the scribbles in said notebooks. I don’t even own a printer – this is thanks to a coupon in the paper for Copymat. What this is right here is several years of prevaricating, procrastinating and all sorts of other P words. But now the time has come. I gotta fix this bitch.
This is my gothic romance, featuring a fair maiden of independent wealth (when she is old enough to inherit it), a wicked Lord and his evil son, an unmentionable baddie and a scrumptious vampire (not unlike Richard Armitage in height and visage). There, you know I write historical when I pull “visage” out of my ass. However, if you imagine that stack’o’descimated tree up there, and stick a fork, or a post-it or a whatsit you have handy at about the ¾ mark, my smart, perky, witty heroine pulls a TSTL (too stupid to live) move. And thus, the changes.
Today is my day off from actual work, so I need to get going on this.
**if anyone wants to know, the squiggle there is because I caught, on the very first page, the following sentence.
Dr. Hayle, the doctor, was inside the room just opposite the bench.
I once also wrote the following sentence:
She looked around, with her eyes.
Don’t tell me I ain’t gonna be a big fancy writer.