Having completed the third novel in my series in sixty days, I thought I would share a few brief notes from the frustrating yet rewarding experience. This is less about the content of the novel itself and more about its physical and emotional toll.
Day 1: Way ahead of the game. I made so many notes while writing Fathoms of Forgiveness that this is going to be super easy. I'll keep going so I don't lose momentum. I love these characters, and I can't wait to be living with them again!
Day 4: Still haven't recovered from the last book. My character is acting like everything is fine, but she can't stay this strong forever. She needs to fall apart. I originally intended for her to never show any weakness, but she's been through so much. I'm falling apart just witnessing her pain.
Day 6: I'm stuck. I need a change of scenery and city--maybe I'll write better at my mom's.
Day 8: For heaven's sake! There has been hardly any feedback on the second book after all that work. I can't stop refreshing and waiting for reviews. I need to market this thing. I'll just spend a little time and a lot of money marketing before I get back to work...
Day 10: My birthday! Nothing I'd rather do than spend all day writing. Writing, writing, wait-- phone call? From a friend who hasn't called me in months? Damn. Looks like I'm going out for my birthday. It's just one day... I'll start writing again tomorrow.
Day 12: Okay, back to my house. I can't stay in one place for too long or I get antsy.
Day 14: I'm stuck. I'm completely stuck on this story. I've hit a wall... how can I smash through it? The only way is headfirst.
Day 16: I'm broke. I spent all my money on marketing. Driving to the casino. Won lots of cash. Back to writing.
Day 18: I need carbs. I'm going to eat 5 bowls of rice and that will make me magically write better. And maybe I'll watch an episode of Supernatural.
Day 21: So many people are bugging me to work on my fanfiction. Well, I did say about two months, and it has been about two months. I suppose I should update that... but I just hope it won't get me out of the Sacred Breath series mode.
Day 28: Wow, well that's finally over... a whole week wasted. 20K words that weren't even for the book I'm trying to complete. That chapter was the steamiest thing I have ever written. I never want to write a sex scene again. How do erotica writers do it? How do you get anything done when you have to stop writing every ten minutes to take a shower? Don't their bodies react to this material? They must not be single. Anyway, back to Book #3...
Day 30: Dammit. It's so hard to get back into the rhythm. I shouldn't have paused to do something else. Leaping back and forth from one fictional world to another is too difficult. It's hard enough leaping back and forth between the real world and the story!
Day 34: Title doesn't feel right. I think I'm going to change the working title from Submarine Superpower to Boundless Sea. My readers agree. It's done.
Day 36: My back is killing me. I am going to need to visit a chiropractor after I finish this book.
Day 38: Sick of being at my house. Driving to mom's; maybe the juices will flow better there.
Day 45: Everyone is recommending this "5 hour energy" drink. Does it work? Conclusion: Disgusting. Exponentially increases the need to pee. Four different tests, all with negative results. After the final test, I fell asleep one hour after consuming the beverage. This is bogus. It was, however, effective in getting me to do a few dozen push ups.
Day 47: My mom's apartment is so tiny and I cannot deal with this horrible single bed! Driving back to my house. The drive itself is relaxing.
Day 48: I need meat. Meat will magically help me keep writing. And maybe an episode of Smash to help me relax.
Day 50: Screw my spine. I should move to a desk and chair, but I like having a blanket over my legs and pillows all around me. I think I'm more productive writing in this position. I'm 24, my back will fix itself.
Day 52: Maybe I can live on chocolate. Is chocolate the answer? Lemonade?
Day 54: Can I feed off energy from music? I'm going to put this Linkin Park CD on repeat as I write.
Conclusion: Wow, music really is an all-natural booster. Best results so far!
Day 55: Final stretch. Here it is. Time to focus. Fuck the world. Fuck eating, fuck sleeping, and fuck breathing. I'm going to go hardcore and just write. I don't exist outside of the story. I am the characters, and I don't need any form of human sustenance. I eat when they eat, I sleep when they sleep, I bathe when they bathe.
Day 56: I really need a bath. My characters live underwater, so they don't need to bathe as much as I do. Brief break.
Day 57: I should be editing by now. But instead I'm still writing. I'm not going to finish in time at this rate, but I have to keep going. Why do I keep falling asleep so early? Sleeping for a full eight hours? I don't need this much sleep. I need to pretend I'm in university and this is due in the morning. I would do it if I had to do it. Why can't I be disciplined?
Day 58: The pressure is on. I'm writing 10K words in a day, and I've already had three people read and edit up to the latest completed chapter. I'm so close to the end, I just have to push it, push it, push it...
Day 59: I'm living on turkey-bacon club sandwiches from Tim Horton's and coffee. This seems to be working. One sandwich fuels me for five hours, along with the appropriate music for each chapter... I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
Day 60: Super-mega-extreme writing marathon. 40 hours nonstop. So much coffee I feel nauseous. I have two friends staying up all night with me on the internet and cheering me on, and reading the updates as I write them. Cecilia is being slave-driver strict and demanding updates from me every half an hour. Melody is being sweet and encouraging, and helping me make decisions about the story. I need this combination of strictness and sweetness.
I'm even managing to make edits between chapters. This is crazy. This is inhuman.
Melody says my writing is better now that I'm exhausted. How is that possible? All of these scenes were mostly outlined and heavily noted, but I imagine my prose is much less complex and symbolic now that I am in a zombie-like state. It's direct and to the point. Bare-bones-essential writing, since I am too dead to do anything else.
Finished. Unconscious.
Waking up after a 3 hour power nap, I go directly back to editing. I edit, and edit, and edit some more. Time to add the complex and symbolic prose I could not manage earlier! I fix up the ending perfectly, then send it to a few readers for their feedback.
It's good. Tearful and emotional responses. =) My work here is done!
Now to edit a few more times and begin formatting for Kindle and Print before I start marketing...
And repeat.
Saturday, 26 May 2012
Monday, 7 May 2012
Writer Craziness: How Ants Inspired my Fight Scenes
Many people ask about my writing process, so here is a bit of insight into the eerie way my mind works.
I found ants in my house. Ants may be common enough, but since I bought my house these are the first critters I've come upon, and they unleashed murderous rage in me. You know the feeling, right? "This is my territory. Begone, unclean fiends!"
Anyway, when I first discovered the ants in my master ensuite bathroom, I watched them with bafflement for a few minutes to see where they came from and where they were going. Scouting. Reconnaissance. An important element of any battle.
Mental Note #1: In my current novel I forgot to have my general character delegate recon before going in full-force with her attack.
Before long, I grew rather impatient with watching, and grabbed the nearest implement (a piece of tissue, in this instance) and began slaughtering. The first kill was emotionally the hardest. I didn't press hard enough with my Kleenex-axe and I saw the insect writhing and thrashing its little legs about in pain. I felt guilt and remorse as I watched, transfixed.
Mental Note #2: It's impossible for a person to kill without contemplating death. Especially if it's the first time, or the first time in a while. I should have my character (spoiler) who's killing for the first time really feel it. Dwell on that for a bit.
This tiny ant was a real live creature. I was killing something alive. I thought about it for a moment, and felt how innocent and undeserving it was before I swung my double-edged, er, I mean double-ply weapon and thoroughly crushed the creature. Then, came the tiny rush of adrenaline and excitement.
Mental Note #3: Killing gives a sense of power. It's addictive. Once you get the first one out of the way, the next several kills are exhilarating.
So, laughing hysterically, I used my tissue to kill several of the ant's brothers and comrades, a bit more viciously this time. Yes, I enjoyed it. Yes, I grew skilled enough through practice to kill in once swift cottony blow. Then eventually, I tossed the tissue in the trash and began using my bare hands. I could feel the insects crunching under my knuckles. This renewed the sense that I was really killing something, the physical contact. Getting a little dirty. Up close and personal.
Mental Note #4: Fighting at long-range with a rifle, shuriken, or javelin is obviously much less personal than being engaged in hand to hand, and feeling the warm skin of the other person underneath every blow.
Then, having cleared out the offending insects, I went back to writing and eventually fell asleep. Upon waking up from my nap, I was horrified to see that the ants had gained ground. Yes, they had pushed their front steadily forward during my period of vulnerability and were now crawling around in my master bedroom! Enraged, I grabbed my heavy-duty vacuum cleaner and sucked them all up rapidly and fiercely. It was satisfying. Way better than tissue.
Mental Note #5: The type of weapon used is essential to establishing the mood of the fight and the emotions of the warrior.
And yet more came. Recognizing that my killing spree was futile considering my estimations of the numbers of this tiny army emerging from beneath my baseboard, I contemplated a long-term solution. More and more ants emerged in waves, and the more I killed, the more they sent. It was time for strategy. It was time to call my mom.
Mental Note #6: Meetings with council members and other military officials before taking drastic action. Risks and sacrifices must be considered and measured against the potential size of the threat.
I marched through the grocery store with determination on my face, and my hair flowing behind me, and my heels clinking, and I asked an associate boldly, "Where do you keep your ant traps?"
"In the housewares aisle. I think."
Upon finding the trove of weaponry, I smiled maniacally as I chose two different ant-traps and a spray. It was overkill, sure. But what if ants appeared in another section of the house? I needed to take preventative measures.
Mental Note #7: Effective strategical planning includes several different options to be prepared on all fronts.
I spent the $15 on advanced weaponry, scoffing at my prior naive, desperate use of tissue-paper. Returning to my house, I ripped open the ant traps and placed them strategically around the hole from which the ants were emerging and along their general projected path of foraging. Namely, I placed some on either side of my door to stop them from entering my bedroom, and to force them back and "hold the line."
Mental Note #8: Location and terrain of both defensive and offensive posts are essential to understand and describe. My characters have to sound like they've not only read the Art of War, but developed their own signature strategies from experience.
After the two types of ant-traps were deployed like explosive mines, and my special spray was kept secreted away in case of emergency. (Always have a last resort!) I nodded to myself in satisfaction.
Now we wait.
I confess it was difficult to watch the little ants slowly carrying the poison back to their little hole. It would have been so much easier just to crush them. I have so many other things nearby which I could use to crush them, like alcohol bottles, clock radios, hairbrushes, and even a hammer. It would be fun. But alas, I must stick to the strategy.
Mental Note #9: The vengeful whims of one person cannot sabotage the safety of the whole nation. Rebellious and rogue warriors must be disciplined by their general.
I must allow the ants to carry my special poison home to their queen. There, she will die along with all of their hopes and dreams of conquest, and then they will all hopefully die in massive numbers. My country will be preserved. This is all I can do for now with respect to defense, and I must return to writing and my other affairs. But of course, my other affairs have been affected by this war. My writing has been inspired and tainted by my first-hand experience in battle, and my sleep will be fitful-- I will be keeping one eye open.
Mental Note #10: Do not neglect the political aspects of the war, and all the side effects that the struggles will have on civilian life in the Adlivun. The country is like a body-- you can't harm one part of it without affecting all the others. The parts are all connected. The people are all connected. Describe and establish an atmosphere of tension, fear, and anger. Certain people will be unified by the conflict and thrive on it, and others will be alienated and destroyed.
I am not sure whether I will be successful in my fight against the ants since it is my first springtime in this house, but I am optimistic. I was renting a basement apartment in a pretty section of downtown Toronto last year around this time when I was similarly attacked by thousands of flying ants with wings that oozed forth from the laundry room floor. I went nuts, Wikipedia-ing them and jumping on them, and since they were flying, I gained ample exercise from kicking the laundry room walls to crush them. My current enemies seem much less powerful and skilled, and I believe they are unprepared to deal with an enemy such as the likes of me. Nevertheless, I will not underestimate them.
Mental Note #11: Historical evidence suggests optimism is acceptable. The nation must be filled with a sense of hope no matter how bleak the situation. And even if victory seems imminent, the nation must be cautious and prudent.
In conclusion, if you're a reader, you may raise your eyebrows, laugh at me, and consider me crazy.
If you're a writer, you needn't go to extreme lengths for research. You don't have to kill people to know what it feels like-- just kill something small in your garden, and extrapolate. You don't need to fight a massive war to understand what it's like to save the world. Just spend some time by yourself doing silly exercises like this. Go and destroy a colony of ants or better yet, a hive of bees. Do it with a sense of purpose. Technically, you're killing a queen, and tons of civilians and warriors. They might be small, but they are real, living creatures. There might be a small degree of danger, especially if you're allergic to bees. You'll feel it. You'll think about it.
Extrapolate from anything. Cheers!
P.S. If I find an ant on my bed, there will be hell to pay. I'm getting out my butane lighter and having me a fiery massacre.
I found ants in my house. Ants may be common enough, but since I bought my house these are the first critters I've come upon, and they unleashed murderous rage in me. You know the feeling, right? "This is my territory. Begone, unclean fiends!"
Anyway, when I first discovered the ants in my master ensuite bathroom, I watched them with bafflement for a few minutes to see where they came from and where they were going. Scouting. Reconnaissance. An important element of any battle.
Mental Note #1: In my current novel I forgot to have my general character delegate recon before going in full-force with her attack.
Before long, I grew rather impatient with watching, and grabbed the nearest implement (a piece of tissue, in this instance) and began slaughtering. The first kill was emotionally the hardest. I didn't press hard enough with my Kleenex-axe and I saw the insect writhing and thrashing its little legs about in pain. I felt guilt and remorse as I watched, transfixed.
Mental Note #2: It's impossible for a person to kill without contemplating death. Especially if it's the first time, or the first time in a while. I should have my character (spoiler) who's killing for the first time really feel it. Dwell on that for a bit.
This tiny ant was a real live creature. I was killing something alive. I thought about it for a moment, and felt how innocent and undeserving it was before I swung my double-edged, er, I mean double-ply weapon and thoroughly crushed the creature. Then, came the tiny rush of adrenaline and excitement.
Mental Note #3: Killing gives a sense of power. It's addictive. Once you get the first one out of the way, the next several kills are exhilarating.
So, laughing hysterically, I used my tissue to kill several of the ant's brothers and comrades, a bit more viciously this time. Yes, I enjoyed it. Yes, I grew skilled enough through practice to kill in once swift cottony blow. Then eventually, I tossed the tissue in the trash and began using my bare hands. I could feel the insects crunching under my knuckles. This renewed the sense that I was really killing something, the physical contact. Getting a little dirty. Up close and personal.
Mental Note #4: Fighting at long-range with a rifle, shuriken, or javelin is obviously much less personal than being engaged in hand to hand, and feeling the warm skin of the other person underneath every blow.
Then, having cleared out the offending insects, I went back to writing and eventually fell asleep. Upon waking up from my nap, I was horrified to see that the ants had gained ground. Yes, they had pushed their front steadily forward during my period of vulnerability and were now crawling around in my master bedroom! Enraged, I grabbed my heavy-duty vacuum cleaner and sucked them all up rapidly and fiercely. It was satisfying. Way better than tissue.
Mental Note #5: The type of weapon used is essential to establishing the mood of the fight and the emotions of the warrior.
And yet more came. Recognizing that my killing spree was futile considering my estimations of the numbers of this tiny army emerging from beneath my baseboard, I contemplated a long-term solution. More and more ants emerged in waves, and the more I killed, the more they sent. It was time for strategy. It was time to call my mom.
Mental Note #6: Meetings with council members and other military officials before taking drastic action. Risks and sacrifices must be considered and measured against the potential size of the threat.
I marched through the grocery store with determination on my face, and my hair flowing behind me, and my heels clinking, and I asked an associate boldly, "Where do you keep your ant traps?"
"In the housewares aisle. I think."
Upon finding the trove of weaponry, I smiled maniacally as I chose two different ant-traps and a spray. It was overkill, sure. But what if ants appeared in another section of the house? I needed to take preventative measures.
Mental Note #7: Effective strategical planning includes several different options to be prepared on all fronts.
I spent the $15 on advanced weaponry, scoffing at my prior naive, desperate use of tissue-paper. Returning to my house, I ripped open the ant traps and placed them strategically around the hole from which the ants were emerging and along their general projected path of foraging. Namely, I placed some on either side of my door to stop them from entering my bedroom, and to force them back and "hold the line."
Mental Note #8: Location and terrain of both defensive and offensive posts are essential to understand and describe. My characters have to sound like they've not only read the Art of War, but developed their own signature strategies from experience.
After the two types of ant-traps were deployed like explosive mines, and my special spray was kept secreted away in case of emergency. (Always have a last resort!) I nodded to myself in satisfaction.
Now we wait.
I confess it was difficult to watch the little ants slowly carrying the poison back to their little hole. It would have been so much easier just to crush them. I have so many other things nearby which I could use to crush them, like alcohol bottles, clock radios, hairbrushes, and even a hammer. It would be fun. But alas, I must stick to the strategy.
Mental Note #9: The vengeful whims of one person cannot sabotage the safety of the whole nation. Rebellious and rogue warriors must be disciplined by their general.
I must allow the ants to carry my special poison home to their queen. There, she will die along with all of their hopes and dreams of conquest, and then they will all hopefully die in massive numbers. My country will be preserved. This is all I can do for now with respect to defense, and I must return to writing and my other affairs. But of course, my other affairs have been affected by this war. My writing has been inspired and tainted by my first-hand experience in battle, and my sleep will be fitful-- I will be keeping one eye open.
Mental Note #10: Do not neglect the political aspects of the war, and all the side effects that the struggles will have on civilian life in the Adlivun. The country is like a body-- you can't harm one part of it without affecting all the others. The parts are all connected. The people are all connected. Describe and establish an atmosphere of tension, fear, and anger. Certain people will be unified by the conflict and thrive on it, and others will be alienated and destroyed.
I am not sure whether I will be successful in my fight against the ants since it is my first springtime in this house, but I am optimistic. I was renting a basement apartment in a pretty section of downtown Toronto last year around this time when I was similarly attacked by thousands of flying ants with wings that oozed forth from the laundry room floor. I went nuts, Wikipedia-ing them and jumping on them, and since they were flying, I gained ample exercise from kicking the laundry room walls to crush them. My current enemies seem much less powerful and skilled, and I believe they are unprepared to deal with an enemy such as the likes of me. Nevertheless, I will not underestimate them.
Mental Note #11: Historical evidence suggests optimism is acceptable. The nation must be filled with a sense of hope no matter how bleak the situation. And even if victory seems imminent, the nation must be cautious and prudent.
In conclusion, if you're a reader, you may raise your eyebrows, laugh at me, and consider me crazy.
If you're a writer, you needn't go to extreme lengths for research. You don't have to kill people to know what it feels like-- just kill something small in your garden, and extrapolate. You don't need to fight a massive war to understand what it's like to save the world. Just spend some time by yourself doing silly exercises like this. Go and destroy a colony of ants or better yet, a hive of bees. Do it with a sense of purpose. Technically, you're killing a queen, and tons of civilians and warriors. They might be small, but they are real, living creatures. There might be a small degree of danger, especially if you're allergic to bees. You'll feel it. You'll think about it.
Extrapolate from anything. Cheers!
P.S. If I find an ant on my bed, there will be hell to pay. I'm getting out my butane lighter and having me a fiery massacre.
Sunday, 29 April 2012
My Remarks on an Insulting Synopsis
Dear Readers; do you find you enjoy it when a book quite rudely tells you what's wrong with you? When it tells you that you must change your horrible ways? If so, you'll love this book!
Why You're Not Married . . . Yet: The Straight Talk You Need to Get the Relationship You Deserve by Tracy McMillan
How fascinating! I have never been insulted five times in a synopsis.
#1. "...you haven’t yet become the woman you need to be in order to have the partnership you want."
Oh my goodness! Please tell me more about how deficient I am as a woman, and why I must change to be the perfect ideal for every man on earth who is already perfect.
#2. "You’re a Bitch: How defensiveness and anger can hide behind a tough, take-charge exterior, and why being nice is never a sign of weakness."
I didn't realize that having a "tough, take-charge exterior" meant that I was a bitch. I thought it meant that I had a "tough, take-charge interior" which I was very proud of and never wished to compromise. But I see how being a tough woman can be a turn-off, and I will try my best to appear as though I am not.
#3. "You’re a Liar: How to stop lying to men—and get honest with yourself—about the kind of relationship you really want. It’s the only way."
I have never lied to a man in my life, but you just suggested that I should because my tough exterior was a turn-off. I'm confused. If I'm really honest with myself about what I want, it's a man who accepts and loves me for the tough, take-charge woman I am, on the exterior and interior.
But I am excited to read this book and find out more about how I should turn myself into soft, cushy carpeting under someone's worthy feet.
#4. "You’re Shallow: Being a woman who insists on a tall guy is no different from being a man who demands big boobs. Learn why you should let go of trying to get what you think you should have and focus on getting what you need."
Here's the secret! Men who are short, fat, and ugly are automatically better people! You know, I considered this theory once, and I tried dating short, fat, ugly men to see if they were less arrogant. I guess I must have chosen the wrong short, fat, ugly men, because they were just as cruel and abusive as the other kind, and almost as insulting as this synopsis.
#5. "You’re Selfish: The big secret about marriage: It’s about giving something, not getting it. The other big secret: You will have to go first."
You know, I've always wanted to give myself wholly to another person. That's why I am considering adopting a child. As far as I understand, parents must nurture their children and sacrifice everything for them without ever expecting to receive anything in return; not even respect or affection.
But I thought marriage was supposed to be mutually beneficial? I must have my definitions crossed! Sorry. I'm going to go now and tell all the women I know who have been abused in their marriages that they were just being selfish, and they should have given more.
It's all our fault after all.
Needless to say, I am excited to read the rest of this book and be insulted several hundred times more! If I can take all these insults and smile and say thank you, I will surely have learned how to be a good wife.
And that will be the be-all and end-all of my existence, because after the princesses got married, all the Disney movies ended and they lived happily ever after.
View all my reviews
Why You're Not Married . . . Yet: The Straight Talk You Need to Get the Relationship You Deserve by Tracy McMillanHow fascinating! I have never been insulted five times in a synopsis.
#1. "...you haven’t yet become the woman you need to be in order to have the partnership you want."
Oh my goodness! Please tell me more about how deficient I am as a woman, and why I must change to be the perfect ideal for every man on earth who is already perfect.
#2. "You’re a Bitch: How defensiveness and anger can hide behind a tough, take-charge exterior, and why being nice is never a sign of weakness."
I didn't realize that having a "tough, take-charge exterior" meant that I was a bitch. I thought it meant that I had a "tough, take-charge interior" which I was very proud of and never wished to compromise. But I see how being a tough woman can be a turn-off, and I will try my best to appear as though I am not.
#3. "You’re a Liar: How to stop lying to men—and get honest with yourself—about the kind of relationship you really want. It’s the only way."
I have never lied to a man in my life, but you just suggested that I should because my tough exterior was a turn-off. I'm confused. If I'm really honest with myself about what I want, it's a man who accepts and loves me for the tough, take-charge woman I am, on the exterior and interior.
But I am excited to read this book and find out more about how I should turn myself into soft, cushy carpeting under someone's worthy feet.
#4. "You’re Shallow: Being a woman who insists on a tall guy is no different from being a man who demands big boobs. Learn why you should let go of trying to get what you think you should have and focus on getting what you need."
Here's the secret! Men who are short, fat, and ugly are automatically better people! You know, I considered this theory once, and I tried dating short, fat, ugly men to see if they were less arrogant. I guess I must have chosen the wrong short, fat, ugly men, because they were just as cruel and abusive as the other kind, and almost as insulting as this synopsis.
#5. "You’re Selfish: The big secret about marriage: It’s about giving something, not getting it. The other big secret: You will have to go first."
You know, I've always wanted to give myself wholly to another person. That's why I am considering adopting a child. As far as I understand, parents must nurture their children and sacrifice everything for them without ever expecting to receive anything in return; not even respect or affection.
But I thought marriage was supposed to be mutually beneficial? I must have my definitions crossed! Sorry. I'm going to go now and tell all the women I know who have been abused in their marriages that they were just being selfish, and they should have given more.
It's all our fault after all.
Needless to say, I am excited to read the rest of this book and be insulted several hundred times more! If I can take all these insults and smile and say thank you, I will surely have learned how to be a good wife.
And that will be the be-all and end-all of my existence, because after the princesses got married, all the Disney movies ended and they lived happily ever after.
View all my reviews
Friday, 27 April 2012
The Warrior-Writer's Diet
If you are a writer, you are aware of the fact that writing is possibly the most time consuming job on the planet. (citation needed) You can't delegate. You can't pay someone else to do it. It's all you-- and sadly, there's only one of you. And sometimes, you need to do things like sleep, empty your bladder, and eat. I haven't yet been able to find a way around the first two (working on it), but I believe I have made progress on eliminating the third annoying hindrance as much as humanly possibleEverything else in your life can be easily parted with; friends, family, pets, entertainment, the outside world, and hygiene. Male writers generally stop showering, while female writers stop shaving. We become smelly, hairy beasts as we immerse ourselves in our respective worlds, happily disregarding most bodily functions. Until they force us to pay attention. Then we become slaves to the exhausting, time-wasting whims of our meat-suits.
Balance? Yeah, right. Does anyone have balance between their life and their writing? No; it's all-consuming. And if you're not being consumed, you're probably not doing it right. Why are you slacking off to pee? You should be working harder. You should be taking the laptop with you, and writing WHILE you pee. Will you allow your kidneys and bladder to sabotage your career and ruin your life? Believe me, your urethra is laughing as it steals away precious minutes.
Regardless of how smelly and hairy you are, you can still do more. I have carefully devised a strategy of eating that requires spending no more than ten minutes in the kitchen per day. It also provides you the basic nutrition necessary to function, and may even result in weight loss.
Disclaimer: This diet is EXTREME and can only be implemented correctly if you are a bachelor/bachelorette without kids or a spouse to feed. Do not attempt if pregnant or nursing. Nadia and her associates claim no responsibility for bodily harm incurred by the adherence to these instructions.
This is a three step program.
Step One: Multivitamins.
Step Two: Lunchables.
Step Three: Zap frozen meat and veggies.
This is my proven method. I'm not joking. Let me elaborate.
Step One is self-explanatory. You are a writer; you probably don't drink milk or go outside to get sun, and you can't afford the time it takes to prepare beef. You need those vitamins.
Step Two is more complex. Lunchables are heavenly gifts from God and Zeus. You can rip them out of the fridge, instantly devour them, and go back to work. You can even eat them while working. They pleasantly greet your taste-buds on the way in with a mushed combination of three different food groups. That's right. Lunchables are the key to success, and they have been since the beginning of time! The Pharaohs ate them, and so did Nostradamus. You want to stock up on these until your fridge is brimming. Then you never need to leave the house. Productivity will increase.
Note: Can be substituted with tortilla chips and cheese/salsa.
Note #2: Notice the complete absence of fresh fruits and vegetables. You are a writer. You do not have time to peel or chop things! Cast those outlandish ideas aside.
Note #3: The alcohol is not a necessary part of the writer's diet, but may be included in times of desperate need for inspiration.
Note #3: The alcohol is not a necessary part of the writer's diet, but may be included in times of desperate need for inspiration.
Step Three is very intricate. Let's talk about frozen stuff, a.k.a. buried treasure. Each box of nearly-cryogenic calories contains a glorious gem of time-saving magnificence. Veggies keep their nutrients when frozen, so it's good for you and fast. Note: To properly receive the benefits of stockpiling your freezer with frozen meals, YOU CANNOT STAND AND STARE WHILE THEY ARE BEING MICROWAVED. No. You will stick them in the microwave, and then you will go back to writing. Posthaste.
You aren't going to waste three to seven minutes watching a rectangle rotate. You're better than that. You have writing to do. And you WILL write more, and more amazingly than you have ever written in your life. The power is in you-- you took the multivitamins. You ate the Lunchables.
You're a superhero.
Saturday, 21 April 2012
The Woman in the Passenger Seat
I have to stop for a red light.
I sigh, and press my red high-heel down on the brake pedal reluctantly. I look around me with dramatic boredom and impatience in my expression, because apathy just wouldn't be fashionable.
Then I see her: sitting in the car beside me. She's silent, because that's the safest way to be. You see, she's in the passenger seat, and her boyfriend or husband is driving her where she needs to go. She's dependent on him. There is a forlorn look in her eyes as she stares out the window. Maybe they've been fighting. She looks like a helpless animal, trapped in a cage with a circus performer who has been whipping her so that she'll dance when the music plays and jump through fiery hoops when he commands it.
Okay, I admit-- I'm exaggerating. A teensy bit. Like for example, the hoops might not necessarily be fiery. They might be crackling with high voltage electricity, or perhaps just soaked in poison. You know, surely something which causes irreparable physical and psychological damage.
I can see it at a glance because I used to be there; I used to be the woman in the passenger seat. I used to have that same expression on my face, and feel the same obligation and misery. Take whatever he throws at you, take whatever he says; he's the boss, while your insides are exploding. Then finally, all you can do is remain silent. Until you realize that the effort of remaining silent is destroying you-- it's so difficult that you've actually begun censoring your thoughts. You've begun censoring yourself to mold yourself into a less confrontational shape. Because just being yourself was confrontational.
Why?
Why when you could be over here driving wherever the hell you want, at whatever speed you want, taking whatever route you want? Why when you can choose exactly what song you want to listen to, and choose to play it fifty times on repeat if you want? At top volume? While singing along at the top of your lungs? And switch it the moment you get tired of it? Yes, it's possible to be so attuned to your own feelings that you know whether or not you like a song on the radio. Not whether you should or should not like it in order to please someone else.
Is it comforting to have him there behind the wheel? Is it acceptable to be constantly belittled and insulted? Are the benefits worth the cost, or is it just fear? Because I'll tell you this now; the only benefits are being able to do your makeup while moving because you don't have to concentrate on the road. The rest of the benefits are all fairy-tales and hearsay. Seriously.
Why would you choose to be the woman in the passenger seat when you could be free?
Then I see her: sitting in the car beside me. She's silent, because that's the safest way to be. You see, she's in the passenger seat, and her boyfriend or husband is driving her where she needs to go. She's dependent on him. There is a forlorn look in her eyes as she stares out the window. Maybe they've been fighting. She looks like a helpless animal, trapped in a cage with a circus performer who has been whipping her so that she'll dance when the music plays and jump through fiery hoops when he commands it.
Okay, I admit-- I'm exaggerating. A teensy bit. Like for example, the hoops might not necessarily be fiery. They might be crackling with high voltage electricity, or perhaps just soaked in poison. You know, surely something which causes irreparable physical and psychological damage.
I can see it at a glance because I used to be there; I used to be the woman in the passenger seat. I used to have that same expression on my face, and feel the same obligation and misery. Take whatever he throws at you, take whatever he says; he's the boss, while your insides are exploding. Then finally, all you can do is remain silent. Until you realize that the effort of remaining silent is destroying you-- it's so difficult that you've actually begun censoring your thoughts. You've begun censoring yourself to mold yourself into a less confrontational shape. Because just being yourself was confrontational.
Why?
Why when you could be over here driving wherever the hell you want, at whatever speed you want, taking whatever route you want? Why when you can choose exactly what song you want to listen to, and choose to play it fifty times on repeat if you want? At top volume? While singing along at the top of your lungs? And switch it the moment you get tired of it? Yes, it's possible to be so attuned to your own feelings that you know whether or not you like a song on the radio. Not whether you should or should not like it in order to please someone else.
Is it comforting to have him there behind the wheel? Is it acceptable to be constantly belittled and insulted? Are the benefits worth the cost, or is it just fear? Because I'll tell you this now; the only benefits are being able to do your makeup while moving because you don't have to concentrate on the road. The rest of the benefits are all fairy-tales and hearsay. Seriously.
Why would you choose to be the woman in the passenger seat when you could be free?
Saturday, 14 April 2012
The Choice: Mind or Body
The truth is, deep in a secret, shameful part of me, I want to hit the gym for three hours a day and work out until exhausted. Then I want to hit the dojo, and train until I collapse. I want to spar with guys who are literally twice my size and kick their asses, because it's been a far too long-- and is there any better thrill? Then I want to participate in fitness competitions with an oiled-up six pack and thighs that feel like steel. I also want to get a motorcycle license and take the classes, and have an excuse to wear leather pants and be the baddest chick you know.
But I don't have the time to do that AND write. All I can afford are my 200 sit-ups a day and *mumblemumble* push-ups. =( I can't compromise my writing goals in order to increase my fitness levels; especially when I am naturally pretty fit and healthy, and don't have any major concerns.
I am probably more fit right now than I have been in my entire life-- I ate rather poorly as a kid because my mom's cooking was horrible. =) I was pretty skinny, and I would get the flu 2-3 times a year, and it would last a month or more. At the moment, I weigh 120 lbs, while I weighed 100-110 in high school, and I haven't had the flu in over a year. This probably has a great deal to do with no longer having stress from rigid hours at school and work, and being able to make my own schedule.
I still have fitness goals, but they will have to be pushed aside for the moment. I hope I'll get a chance to pursue them next year, when I will have some time to do something other than pound away at the keyboard.
But I don't have the time to do that AND write. All I can afford are my 200 sit-ups a day and *mumblemumble* push-ups. =( I can't compromise my writing goals in order to increase my fitness levels; especially when I am naturally pretty fit and healthy, and don't have any major concerns.
I am probably more fit right now than I have been in my entire life-- I ate rather poorly as a kid because my mom's cooking was horrible. =) I was pretty skinny, and I would get the flu 2-3 times a year, and it would last a month or more. At the moment, I weigh 120 lbs, while I weighed 100-110 in high school, and I haven't had the flu in over a year. This probably has a great deal to do with no longer having stress from rigid hours at school and work, and being able to make my own schedule.
I still have fitness goals, but they will have to be pushed aside for the moment. I hope I'll get a chance to pursue them next year, when I will have some time to do something other than pound away at the keyboard.
Sunday, 8 April 2012
Fanfiction Readers Are Glorious
Why my fanfiction readers rock:
Why the real world does not yet rock for me:
On March 27th-28th, I gave away 3,011 copies of the novel. For free. That's a tiny bit more than the hits I've received on my teeny weenie chapter, isn't it? Only a few thousand more. Yup, you guessed it. NO REVIEWS. ZERO reviews from over 3,000 free copies given away! Ahhhhhhhh! Perhaps I am spoiled, but I am not used to such neglect and apathy.
Note: If you're wondering what the big deal is about reviews, allow me to explain that I am actually a robot, and reviews are what I eat and drink to keep my mechanical parts moving.
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