Writing Update of Sorts. (Not forming. Just thoughts as the occur)
A real person who is also part writer is like a professional sports athlete, and not even taking the time to cook my soup I really don’t have time to do what I’m doing right now. This book is consuming me and nobody really knows that. As I become a better writer I become weirder by the day. There are some pretty strange characters in my book. I’m holding it together the best I can but man… it’s really good. Sometimes it takes me a minute a word, that’s along time. At three I’m done for the week. My body hurts. My eyes are becoming a problem. They say go do nothing please. This is a documentation of life. My body could just about collapse right now. Somehow the book got really strange and bizarre. Nicely looking paragraphs are nice and calm as you iron them out during editing. I really think the end product will make people think if nothing else. If when I’m done I don’t like it, the process still will be worth it. I need to sell it and I’ll try to make sure people know they should read it. I need to stop giving sections out for free until it’s just dead weight. knowing that I have to keep at this pace and not work faster or slower nothing can change, and I’m a good writer now, anything less than I know I’m capable of isn’t good enough. I wont even worry about anything else until I know it’s done. I really need to get on with other things. My days are getting more tense and I have some travel dates lined up but I haven’t even emailed anyone back in about a month. I can’t do anything until it’s done. Time is running out. It will come down to some kind of last second shot, and I’ll know when it’s done. I wont miss anything. The whole story connects but it’s 250+ pages now. People wonder what the heck I’m doing all the time. I’m on page 81. The fifth re-write is going to take longer than the 4th. It will need 6th re write when this is done. I wont even think about looking at it until Sunday afternoon. For eight to nine hours a day I really got stuck this week. Still something interesting is happening. I’m starting to like the keyboard. the springs are in line with my fingers, the letters are wearing off. One in the same. The brain the keys and the mind and the thoughts often they flow as one. This editing has made me a better writer and it will show in this work but more so in my future work. Who cares. I do. I’ve made myself make a deal with myself that no more information or developments can be made. This is not the book I will write, it is a book I will write. The next one will be great-er. It’s all coming together and then falling apart in real-time. Ten more pages and then my day is done. Ten more pages and then I’m going to quit writing forever. No I’m not. I don’t know what any of this is truly for, but You have to believe that you’re working on one of the most important works to be attempted if you want to fail. You have to just tell yourself that it matters, because maybe, it will. Anyway, when you can’t create, you can work. Here is a documentary for those who believe in one of the last good fights in this damn noisy world. Peace.