So, last time I boldly proclaimed that I would have 3 - yes 3! - stories written by month's end. And how many are done, finished, ready to go? A big fat zero. Sure, I've done some work on them all, but so little as to be almost imperceptible to the naked eye. Not good. Time, it seems, doesn't work as it once did.
I've always, always found that last minute is best. Ok, so maybe not in every aspect of life, but certainly when it comes to the written word.Yes, this does hark back somewhat to my last post, the procrastination factor being the dominant element in me actually getting to putting words down. However, I'd like to lay the blame on time as the partner in crime of procrastination. Last time I blamed the internet, but it can't be solely responsible for my lack of productivity. Time seems to be swallowed up by so many other things these days which comes with the territory in being a married father of (almost) two. Yet I can't blame that side of life - it's what keeps me going - but rather my own inability to judge time.
Two hours ago my brain was thinking, "Right, now we've got time to do some writing! This is it!". Yet reality then overcame me. Yes, I had the house to myself (the perfect time!), but I hadn't factored in having a bath, having breakfast, all those other things that need to be done. Time just gets swallowed! And now, I find myself back here once again. More putting off!
But no more! This here is where I make a stand! One story will be finished in the next 5 days - by Tuesday one will done. No more procrastinating! I'm going to get right to it...after that cup of tea....
Saturday, 27 November 2010
Sunday, 14 November 2010
A blank canvas
At the moment, this page is like a void. A big, blank white void waiting to be filled with words. Only now it's not, as I've written some. The problem I have though is getting started. I see a blank, white screen and my brain immediately turns to mush. I mean I have ideas, plenty of them! When I was just getting back into writing earlier this year, ideas were the problem - or rather a surfeit of them was the problem. Now that my brain is wired back into writing mode I don't have that problem. The issue now is getting started in the first place.
What I did for a while was to write a little bit every day; and for a while it worked. Even if it was just a hundred words or so, the story started to write itself and before I knew it I'd finished the thing! A few thousand words in a handful of days...but now I just can't seem to get started. However, I think I've narrowed down the problem.
I used to write in my teens in the mid-nineties, and then I was still establishing my style, trying to get to grips with all the complexities that writing brings with it. I wrote little bits here and there, my problem then being having too many ideas and wanting to start writing a new one immediately. Consequently, very little of what I wrote was ever finished, and most of what did is now lost in the ether. The bits and pieces I've still got and have read through are interesting: here and there amongst all the feverishly rushed prose there are little glimmers of how my writing looks now. It's quite encouraging to see that even back then I had the love for writing that I do now, and I'm glad that I've built upon it to become more confident in myself and my own abilities.
However, I digress - and that's exactly the point! I could procrastinate at a national level, maybe international, if I tried. But I'd be too busy procrastinating. Hamlet was an amateur compared to me! I could do things last minute until the cows came home (and I'd only just finish as the farm gate was closing after the last one). Back in the mid-nineties, there was less distraction, but now while I'm writing I have the cursed tool I'm using to write these very words to blame: the internet.
My own willpower is not as strong as some people. "Don't open the internet browser!" they say, but I can't help it. I'll go looking for something, and hours later emerge with few words written and a completely different something to the one I was originally looking for! Even while writing this post I did it! And made a phone call. Next will be the obligatory toilet break, followed by a cup of tea/coffee, and the whole cycle start again.
So, I'm going to set myself a task. I've got three stories to write in the immediate future, and I'm going to have them all done by the end of the month. Every one. Well, one needs to be done by next Saturday, so that's a good start. This here blog will be my procrastination, and I shall update it with my progress as I go.
Right, deep breath, and off I go. Wish me luck....
What I did for a while was to write a little bit every day; and for a while it worked. Even if it was just a hundred words or so, the story started to write itself and before I knew it I'd finished the thing! A few thousand words in a handful of days...but now I just can't seem to get started. However, I think I've narrowed down the problem.
I used to write in my teens in the mid-nineties, and then I was still establishing my style, trying to get to grips with all the complexities that writing brings with it. I wrote little bits here and there, my problem then being having too many ideas and wanting to start writing a new one immediately. Consequently, very little of what I wrote was ever finished, and most of what did is now lost in the ether. The bits and pieces I've still got and have read through are interesting: here and there amongst all the feverishly rushed prose there are little glimmers of how my writing looks now. It's quite encouraging to see that even back then I had the love for writing that I do now, and I'm glad that I've built upon it to become more confident in myself and my own abilities.
However, I digress - and that's exactly the point! I could procrastinate at a national level, maybe international, if I tried. But I'd be too busy procrastinating. Hamlet was an amateur compared to me! I could do things last minute until the cows came home (and I'd only just finish as the farm gate was closing after the last one). Back in the mid-nineties, there was less distraction, but now while I'm writing I have the cursed tool I'm using to write these very words to blame: the internet.
My own willpower is not as strong as some people. "Don't open the internet browser!" they say, but I can't help it. I'll go looking for something, and hours later emerge with few words written and a completely different something to the one I was originally looking for! Even while writing this post I did it! And made a phone call. Next will be the obligatory toilet break, followed by a cup of tea/coffee, and the whole cycle start again.
So, I'm going to set myself a task. I've got three stories to write in the immediate future, and I'm going to have them all done by the end of the month. Every one. Well, one needs to be done by next Saturday, so that's a good start. This here blog will be my procrastination, and I shall update it with my progress as I go.
Right, deep breath, and off I go. Wish me luck....
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