This shit doesn’t hang together at all, so I go print out the hastily erected paras and shuffle them around. I cut and paste them. I take index cards and scribble truncated plot slogans onto them, treating them like Lego blocks, and then I can shuffle them. I despair and just gun down some swearing-laden plot ideas, desperate to corral them in my mind. I go back to my voluminous notes and read them again. I pace.
I can see it now, so I seat myself and reword paras and pages. Peace settles on the land. Then I realize this shit doesn’t hang together at all, so I go . . .
1,000 words by lunchtime?
Urgency grips the geek. 100 days! Can he do it? So what if he does?
I’ve reassessed progress and prospects. The picture over the four Big Years isn’t pretty but each has lifted me for the better. Over the next week or so, I’ll reshape the four pushes towards December 31. Call me excited!
The last fortnight has been thrilling but spent in the worlds of commerce and crime fiction, so it’s a wrench to get back into the most important work. Here’s a story I tell myself to reorient: “Once upon a time in the land of buffalo, clever people invent energy millions of times more powerful. Can they bottle it? It’s expensive – can cleverness turn it cheap enough? Oh they dream . . .”
In my experience it doesn’t take much to unscramble one’s determination. Over the last week I’ve been plumbing the dizzy heights and mired depths of self publishing (Deadly Investment, my first crime novel, approaches!). Commissioning professionals to assemble the book’s bits and pieces, trying to think in sales mode, planning detailed steps, all the while struggling with a leg injury . . . I lapsed. I was laboring hard but all my Big Years momentarily faltered. I got up early but wasn’t drafting my big book (1,000 Big Year). Some hiking, biking, and gym kept me from ossifying but my exercise targets slumped (Freshness Big Year). I even missed a couple of Headspace days (Stillness Big Year). I did keep up the Tractor Big Year research into publishing (in fact that’s all I did). I drank wine and ate chocolate.
Yesterday the usual “why falter” gloom set in but today I’m reassembling my life. Back on track soon . . .
Bar Ristretto. September 10, 2018 . . . an important day. Why important? No reason at all, just another day to draft words that might one day add to a story.
I jogged a couple of days ago, not 10 kms as per my Freshness Big Year, not 5 kms as has been a frequent last-resort action, but only 2 kms. And it didn’t work. My right quad muscle is messed up and it’s time to see the physio. In the meantime all my exercise goals are moot and need to be sensibly revised. My other Big Years also flounder, I’m not sure why.
So, with a quarter of 2018 remaining, let me reorient and recommit.