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Brief thoughts on writing

I originally wrote that I hadn't been writing.  I  only did a little bit of revision for the chapter I sent to frumiousb 
However I forget that I wrote a one-page bio for an application.  In times of intense pain I pare down my writing to what's essential.  What won't keep me up at night.  I still take Vicodin to sleep.  I joke it's because I want to be like House a tv doctor who pops Vicodin like candy.  I still want to live in his world where all medical ills are cured in a few days.  But I can't even pop Vicodin like candy so there's no hope for me.

And somewhere in the past couple months I've just stopped worrying about rejection.  It used to be my biggest fear about writing and stopped me submitting anything at all until Little T was born.  Now I just don't feel rejection is about me or my work anymore.  It's about the receiver's perception of the market and whether my work will sell.  If you want to hear more let me know. 

Though I already owe plantgirl a piece about what I consider American culture.

I also now accept I'm not good at writing first drafts.  At least my first draft is about ten times worse than my final draft.   I tend to wander too much.  Over the past two years I have improved from totally sucks to mediocre with typos.  I don't think this is true for some writers but it's true for me.  I think if I were a better first draft writer I'd try to blog for money.  I now find that revision is the hardest part of writing for me.  I revise a work over and over.  I ask poor C to read it  He tells me it's not ready.  I wail at its lack.  I used to wail more but this acceptance of beginning suckage has helped.  Just because it sucks now doesn't mean it will suck forever.  That was my fear.  I would suck forever. 

My acceptance doesn't make revising any less painful.  But at least I know it's part of my process.  I used to believe that great writers turned out beautiful prose effortlessly.  Maybe some do.  Maybe someday I will too.  But for now my writing process resembles Little T's progress.  Slow rather agonising but progress nonetheless.

Little T is always trotting out new words.  Then  we don't hear that word again for months.  Yesterday he exclaimed "nice!" when C presented him with a pair of pants in his favorite color -- bright orange.  My brother has the same taste in colors and says the exact same thing when shown clothing he likes.  Until a couple months ago I said Little T didn't care about clothes.  Clearly I was wrong.

And here I go.  I wandered off again.  But it's late so you'll just have to take this as it is.  Goodnight.

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poets_hand
Jan. 7th, 2007 10:02 pm (UTC)
Revision has always been the hardest part for me. I can revise a lot up to a point, then I get stuck, and can't figure out where to go next. I think I give up the process to easily.
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