Eileen R. Tabios / #EileenWritesNovel / August
Aug. 1, 2016
August 1 = 214 Days of Daily Writing at the Novel.
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No reason now to doubt I won’t make this leap year’s goal of 366 days of novel writing. But seeing the manuscript bulk up also means I can anticipate the rest of the post-first draft process. And what I anticipate (based on the manuscript) is at least two rounds of extensive editing/revising. If I make it, that would get me to the first version I would consider showing others. After you show the draft to others, e.g. editors, there could be more revisions. All in all, that’s depressing. I now understand that I want to write a novel … but am unsure I actually want the novelist’s life. (Isn’t that interesting? Versus those peeps wanting the writer’s life but not the actual writing…). I need to find the joy in the process, because the process has surprised me into the grumble when I should be joyous looking at all those pages! Still, I’m not sure I’m grumbling over the form of the novel so much as the difficulty of radically expanding scale—that’s what I get for ever flirting with maximalism. Nuff said except: Muse, don’t you dare turn me as pale as the blank page.
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Aug. 3, 2016
I wonder if there are more "bad" poems than there are novels simply because of scale. Rather, S C A L E ! (Note to Self: Knock it off, Tabios. You're procrastinating.)
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Aug. 8, 2016
The pronouns resolved themselves! Only took 600 pages, she grumbles.
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Aug. 17, 2016
Geez it's like a puppy. It won't stop! And now, there's a Part V!
"Yo, Boo," she coos at Baby Novel. "You do know Mommy's got a life, right? Can you pleeeeease end?!"
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Aug. 31, 2016
It's Virgin not Bloody. Because the bloody novel. Humph.
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Aug. 1, 2016
August 1 = 214 Days of Daily Writing at the Novel.
No reason now to doubt I won’t make this leap year’s goal of 366 days of novel writing. But seeing the manuscript bulk up also means I can anticipate the rest of the post-first draft process. And what I anticipate (based on the manuscript) is at least two rounds of extensive editing/revising. If I make it, that would get me to the first version I would consider showing others. After you show the draft to others, e.g. editors, there could be more revisions. All in all, that’s depressing. I now understand that I want to write a novel … but am unsure I actually want the novelist’s life. (Isn’t that interesting? Versus those peeps wanting the writer’s life but not the actual writing…). I need to find the joy in the process, because the process has surprised me into the grumble when I should be joyous looking at all those pages! Still, I’m not sure I’m grumbling over the form of the novel so much as the difficulty of radically expanding scale—that’s what I get for ever flirting with maximalism. Nuff said except: Muse, don’t you dare turn me as pale as the blank page.
Aug. 3, 2016
I wonder if there are more "bad" poems than there are novels simply because of scale. Rather, S C A L E ! (Note to Self: Knock it off, Tabios. You're procrastinating.)
Aug. 8, 2016
The pronouns resolved themselves! Only took 600 pages, she grumbles.
Aug. 17, 2016
Geez it's like a puppy. It won't stop! And now, there's a Part V!
"Yo, Boo," she coos at Baby Novel. "You do know Mommy's got a life, right? Can you pleeeeease end?!"
Aug. 31, 2016
It's Virgin not Bloody. Because the bloody novel. Humph.
