Owning the brokenness

[wayfaringwordhack]

The manuscript I'm working on, the one I promised to finish a draft of by Sept 1st because I believed it was pretty sound--unfinished ending aside--is broken.

It is painful, but I must admit that my memory of a fairly sound draft does not match the reality. There is no way I can uphold my promise to Julien to have it submission-worthy by Nov 1, no way to meet my own standards in the time I have.  Especially since the story is not singing to me, not even humming. It sounds like an excuse to say that, to try to get out of writing because I don't feel hot, passionate, consuming story love. So many times I've read about the importance of showing up, of sticking with the story and pushing past any discourage sloughs of Blah. But. But.

I have so much to do, so many projects, and a baby who is a major monopolizer of my time and energy; and I think, why?  Why should I pursue something that my heart is not in right now?  Why shouldn't I turn my passion and my spare moments to working on something that brings me joy?

I promised, that's why. But when the black hole of no-inspiration-and-even-less-desire strikes*, that doesn't seem a good enough reason.

I told frigg that I should perhaps work on two projects simultaneously, only working on the "fun" project (WW2) after spending a set amount of time on the "promise" project.  Time, though, is in short supply.  Now I just sound whiny.

I just need to make time. And get inspired.

Anyone want to share how they get fired up about/deal with a project that has fizzled?


_____________
* can a black hole strike? :P

Comments

[frigg.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

Have you considered thinking about it as a job? Remember at university where you had 1 week to hand in a paper and somehow you always managed to do it?

Not saying that you should "hand in" by Nov. 1st, especially not if it's not ready, but more to use the mind-set to sit down and write every day and make some progress without waiting for inspiration or the mood to strike, but just as something that needs to be done, like scrubbing the toilet and doing laundry.

...and yeah, look who's talking. :p

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

See, I am a weak-willed person who gives in to the voice inside that makes excuses... so I am a terrible adviser.

If finishing this is fundamentally important, if that in itself is important, then what frigg says makes good sense to me. Gritting your teeth and just doing it, and not worrying about quality, but just Bataan marching on through it, to have a finished thing--well, you can do that, I believe, because I believe you can do all sorts of things. And generally, if you are able to write for more than 15 minutes at a time (and believe me, I understand that this is not a given...), and if you can write for more than one or two days a week, you will *probably* find some pleasure coming back, just by the force of having to do it.

But--this is the devil in me speaking, so close your ears and hum, if you don't want to be tempted--IS this a project that you absolutely must finish? Now? Is a life changing experience like having a baby not allowed to change your perceptions of things' relative importance? Are you not allowed to reassess the story and feel differently about it? Again, though, I don't know your history with the story and what it means to you.

Bottom line: I think you CAN push through and finish it. But whether you MUST or not is another matter.

[mindseas.livejournal.com]

I've always been an inspiration-driven writer too, but what inspired me never turned out to be something other people liked. I suppose if one is going to be a pro writer one has to look at writing more as a craft than as an art, more as work than play. But I'm only saying this as someone incapable of doing that, so I have no solution. Perhaps there are rare occasions when art and craft, work and play merge. If so, I'm still waiting for the lightning to strike...

[jongibbs.livejournal.com]

{{{{Hugs}}}}

Here's my suggestion:

Take a week off, during which time you're not allowed to even think about your 'broken' ms - you will anyway, but it's the intention that counts.

Work on something new and shiny until the week's up.

Go back over the ms and make a note of all the things you like about it (only the good stuff, no neggy-negatives), then ask yourself the $64,000 question:

Is there enough good stuff to make it worth fixing the bad? If so, have at it. Your sub-conscious has already been working on finding a way, so you may find it much easier than you first thought.

Hope that helps. Good luck :)

[clarentine]

Speaking for myself, I can attest that being just plain tired can affect in a huge manner my ability to reach that state where I can create words. Stress and all the things that went with moving (twice!) with people and creatures dependent upon me meant it took me two years to rewrite a manuscript. There were many days I got not one word. When I simply could not brain, no matter how much time I had to stare at my computer screen. Did I finish? Yes. Was it fun? Hell, no. I only kept going because I got crazier the longer I stayed away from making the attempt to work on the writing.

Your situation is not mine, of course, but I think it's worth observing that there is value both in (a) flogging oneself forward regardless of how worthy one thinks one's work is and (b) cutting oneself some slack when no amount of flogging is producing forward motion. Cannot is not the same as don't wanna. My suggestion: try identifying your location on that spectrum and adjust your game plan accordingly.

[tatterpunk.livejournal.com]

I have so much to do, so many projects, and a baby who is a major monopolizer of my time and energy; and I think, why? Why should I pursue something that my heart is not in right now? Why shouldn't I turn my passion and my spare moments to working on something that brings me joy?

Because it's very possible that this lack a joy is part of the process -- that you'll hit it EVERY time you near completion, or at least reach the stage where a project is not an endless expanse of possibility and potential but simply pages of damage control. And sure, maybe this project isn't "the one," maybe in the end you'll shelve it for real, but it's possible that if you back off whenever it reaches this point you'll give yourself a complex. That you'll never learn how to push through the inertia and disinterest and do good work regardless. And maybe one day you'll look back and realize that one of those projects -- maybe not this one, but one of them -- where you were hamstrung by lack of excitement was actually very important to you, as a writer and artist. And you let yourself walk away out of fear.

Because it's very possible that lack of interest is just the fear talking. I mean, without knowing you day to day, I can't say absolutely it is. But finishing any kind of artistic endeavor, or at least any serious attempt at finishing it, can be seriously terrifying. It's the moment of truth: here is what you are actually capable of, and this is what you have to work with. But you have to work with it to see what you're capable of from this point onward.

And, you know, if you still don't feel it's worth submitting by the promised time, then it's not. But that's weeks away. How much improvement could you do in that much time? You could think of it as a gift -- since this story is no longer "it" for you, you can take a lot more chances and experiment more freely at this stage in revisions, without worrying that you would accidentally screw up something that feels frighteningly good. If it's already broken, what harm can you do? So go for broke.