The Draft

Lisa has decided that she’s moving too slowly for her tastes, and so has decided to run herself through a Fast Draft. Essentially what that means is that she turns out 20 pages a day as quickly as she can, no dithering, no revising, no stopping, no whining. In two weeks, she’ll have a workable first draft that can then be revised.

She wanted company, I think, and felt it would do me some good. I’ve never been terribly clever, so.

Ideally, one counts pages or words (250 per page is about right), and then one can determine if one is on quota. This one has determined that Quota is the name of a demon in the fourth ring of hell, the one for correcting those who sell themselves short because there was a quantifiable datum that showed them to be less than perfect — and then torture their loved ones with whining for 25 years.

Quota, thus do I cast you out.

I have a job, a wife, a life, and some moderate need of sleep. If I set myself to 20 pages a day, I will fail, and, failing, will begin the process of self-castigation, publicly mourning the waste I have made of my gifts and my days. I will reflect loudly that no one should love me, for I am an underachiever and ne’er-do-well, and that children should be kept from me lest I soil their lives with my poor influence and bad character. While I am castigating, I will neglect to keep writing, thus proving my allegations.

*yawn*

So, yeah, casting out the demon Quota. *casts* Good upper body workout, throwing quotas out the door.

My goal is just the same as Fast Draft, without the number attached. I will work as hard and as often as I can, in any spare minutes. I will treat this as a two-week sprint; I don’t need to do it forever, I just have to do this to the finish line. At that point I will have so much manuscript complete that whatever is left will be the work of another few days, and then I can edit.

I suspect a whole new hell will be opened then, but that hell is for tomorrow.

With this as preamble, the next post will be the norm for the next 14 days.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry

Measure of Weights

I’m intending to match Lisa in her New Year Teeth-gritting.  I’ve suggested (as she hates exercise and will likely need cardio for her plan) that she follow in Catie’s fine footsteps and do something like this.

I will not be doing cardio except as part of my life; I get plenty of walkabout without trying, miles daily.  I’m going to return some of the lean muscle mass that I had a few months ago, so, rather than walk to Minis Tirith or some such, I thought (initially) that I’d lift the Pyramid of Cheops.  Then I learned that that pyramid is estimated to weigh in at 6 million tons.

Okay, even one or two hundred pounds at a time, that’s a bit much.

I’ve a Gravity Force, which one sits on and then lifts — oneself.  The body moves about a foot.  It’s a lovely machine, has variable resistance and all that, and a variety of weight-machine simulations.  

It also is a fair simulation for lifting oneself by one’s bootstraps.

Oh, I like it.

I will lift myself by my bootstraps until I have gone from the base of Kilimanjaro to the peak; 15,100 feet.  Physical analogy, literary references, the mystery of the dead cheetah (I may have misremembered this) that was found at the top; physical, emotional, spiritual, all in one.  

I shall bootstrap myself to Kilimanjaro.

Shannon, for her part, will be bootstrapping herself (or stair-stepping) to Machu Picchu.  Much more picturesque, but you can’t take a Hemingway sort of image to heart and then shift whimsically a moment later.  Where is the macho stoicism in that?  No, I’ll go to the roof of the world in Africa, Shannon can have her lost Incans, and we’ll meet Lisa, all of us svelt and comely.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry

Sin

Ganked from Lisa Hendrix; this meme struck my fancy.

1. LUST: Besides your current Significant Other who do you lust for or have you lusted for?
2. GLUTTONY: What food brings out your inner glutton?
3. GREED: What are you greedy for?
4. SLOTH: What is your plan for an ideal day of sloth?
5. WRATH: Describe a time that you let out a can of whoop ass on someone.
6. ENVY: Who or what do you envy? Why?
7. PRIDE: Have you ever had to swallow your pride? What are you proud of?

I love sin.  Sin is exciting, it’s flashy, frightening, titillating.  People are at their most inventive around, for, and in response to sin.

Read the rest of this entry »

The weekend

I have just spent a weekend of romance, just me and fifty women. I was the only man.

Yes, I was awake. Yes, this really happened.

I attended this, at the behest of my mentor, Lisa. She told me I had desperate need to go to this, to take part, to absorb it all, and she was right. I’ve been unable to revise my completed first drafts (the problems are too HUGE — and I didn’t know what they were, just that they were HUGE), only able to go and create another first draft…and the most recent one was going all drifty, just as the other two had. No clue how to stop it from following them on their rambling, unexciting ways.

And now I have. Debra Dixon is my hero. Lisa is up there, too, for dragging me to the workshop. And Shannon, for enduring a weekend of solitary confinement while I was off gallivanting with 50 strange women.

I go now, to eat and create the GMC and storyboard that will make my first drafts mutate into second drafts.

Dare I envision a final draft? I dare.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry