Tag Archives: Writing

Why I’m thinking about my writing differently.

Posted on by
Reply

On Monday I left a little tidbit at the end about how I’m writing differently.

The truth is, last week I came to grips with my focus and the things I write.

I thought about what I enjoy reading, why I enjoy those things and how they can become part of what I write.

It’s about the characters stupid!

Sure the story makes a difference but if I don’t like the characters I’ll quit on a book.

Over the last few weeks I’ve been reading the Bosch books by Michael Connelly.

I’ve read crime books in the past but Connelly makes you like his characters and makes you care about them.

That I’ve gone through 4 of his books in the last week is a testament to his character creation as well as the world he creates.

I’ve always tried to write stories and throw monsters or fantasy elements into them early.

In the past week I noticed I wasn’t writing about characters I really liked. I cared more about throwing the fantasy or horror elements in.

I haven’t always done this but my writing lately leaned that way.

I forgot that characters are the most important feature of a story. If the reader loves the characters they may forgive you for other story screw ups.

This week I’m focusing on short stories with characters as the focal point and the horror or fantasy as secondary.

I wish I knew why my mind strayed from this but I mean to rectify it from now on.

That’s where I’ve been with my writing.

Friday I’ll talk about my emotional state because that’s important.

Have a good week.

The problem with expectations…

Posted on by
1

I talked last week about my struggle getting back to writing, having too much to drink, and all of that.

I think last week was about the high expectations I have for myself and my writing.

Every day I try and live a life my kids, my wife, and I will be proud of.

I bartend as many shifts as I can get and write every day.

I worked another event in Park City, Utah on Saturday. The other bartender and I got to talking and he said, “This gig must work out perfect for you.”

And it does.

Bartending two to three days a week works for my writing and family life.

When you’ve come from working full time to part time, the world changes, people look at you differently, but you mustn’t care what they think.

You know how hard you work.

I’m at the desk every day, even this last week when I’ve had to go somewhere else to work so my son could get his summer classes done,(he’s taking an online class this summer to boost his credits for graduation).

So I gave him the space to work on his class and I went somewhere else to work, which I’ll be doing the rest of the summer.

This past week was a struggle. I had to think about my writing in a different way and had to look at the stories I’m writing differently.

It’s hard to explain but maybe I’ll try on Wednesday.

Have a good Monday.

Working to get on track.

Posted on by
Reply

This past week blew me up.

I haven’t been able to get any decent words on the page and the stop-start of stories has thrown my mind into a tiff.

I’ve written little bits of story, but nothing substantial and not anything I’d show to anyone, even my wife.

Today, this morning, I’m working on getting things done, because I can’t sit here and not work. I have to do something, even if it’s editing.

I’m stick to what I said on Monday and I’m getting past what I wrote on Wednesday, and it’s hard.

I’ve had to look at myself and my writing in way that I don’t want. Hell, I’m not sure any of us what’s to look at ourselves the way I have in the past week.

This weekend leads into another week and it’s day-by-day.

I keep going because I have to prove something to myself.

This isn’t about getting published anymore.

Its about proving to myself with all the headgames and all the the ways my mind tells me I can’t, that I can.

Have a good weekend and I’ll see you on Monday.

Catching the failure bug

Posted on by
Reply

The problem of being an unpublished writer it there isn’t a metric of comparison. I can’t compare myself to my writing idols, they have something I don’t.

This weekend, after I reconciled with myself about my actions, I thought about my work ethic.

Have I been working hard enough to get published? Am I focusing properly? Is there something more I could be doing?

I realized there are a few things I’m not doing and some I’m not doing enough of. There are streams of sunlight at the end of each storm, but we tend to think of the storm, what it did, how it wrecked us, but we don’t think about the clean up. We’re too focused on the storm.

The storm struck me this past weekend. It made me question my writing, it made me question myself.

For me and my struggles with depression, this is a dangerous road to travel. Much like sandbags along a river, I have to set up markers and ways to stop the progress of doubt and feelings the stop or hinder me.

These markers usually work, but this one, it’s taking things away from me.

I’m working to get through it. I stare at the keys when I’m writing and wonder if I should keep going. I get words, but are they good enough?

I feel my writing is good. I’ve improved greatly over the last eighteen months. But the doubt crept in. The sandbags filled with water and the dam broke.

Life tosses us through the storm, the sandbags break, the water spills over the dam, but we keep going because that’s who we are and that’s what we do.

But sometimes, the dam breaking hurts. It causes us to question where we’re going.

I’m struggling a bit this week. It’s been a while since I have, but putting it on the page for the world to see and for the world to know helps me get through it.

Own your screw ups!

Posted on by
Reply

This weekend I went to my niece’s wedding, drank too much, got sick, and didn’t get to do all the things I wanted to with my kids on Father’s Day.

I am totally to blame for this.

There’s this thing I tell myself about taking responsibility for my actions.

I hadn’t drank in a few weeks and I took my eye off my goals to drink. I haven’t done that in a long time.

My goals mean a lot to me and that I took my eye off the prize at the end of this writing journey, pisses me off.

I’m angry at myself for drinking too much. I couldn’t write on Sunday because the effects of the alcohol were still in my system. I don’t write well intoxicated. It comes out forced and horrid.

So I’m holding myself to a goal.

No alcohol for the rest of the summer.

I let myself down by drinking too much and in the process screwed up my writing schedule.

Own your screw ups.

Acknowledge every time you’ve messed up and say you’re sorry to those you’ve hurt.

I drank to excess on Saturday and let myself, my wife, and my kids down.

Have a good week.