Okay, so I’ve been doing some writing lately. Big deal, right?
Well, sort of. See, I promised a story to someone and I started the project, but I haven’t finished it. I did, however, have the foresight to break the piece into four (so far) separate parts, so I could post one part over the course of the week. If you’re interested you can check either my deviantART page, or my fiction blog to see it.
The point of doing little stories like this is two-fold. First, to force myself to write. I have to write. I have to. And originally, the idea was to force my hand to keep moving so I could get motivated to write my book, which languishes yet on my hard drive, abandoned, lonesome, mournful. That obviously didn’t work, but it did keep me writing, keep me growing.
The second thing the li’l stories were supposed to do is give me opportunity to practice new things. I could play with new styles and voices and see what I could do in other genres, if possible. From this was born “Sharkey”, which I love (though no one else seems to as much as I do). Yes, they were supposed to be short stories, not novellas, but most of them turned out that way.
Well, since I’ve started this one, I’ve discovered that I don’t really … like the story. I mean, I don’t hate it, but I never got blasted with the bolt of inspiration I kept waiting for. I feel a bit like I’m forcing it because, while the original idea came easily enough, the solidification of that idea isn’t forthcoming, and that makes me nervous.
The other thing I’ve discovered lately is my propensity for overdoing everything when I write. I carry my banter on too long and bore the reader, I carry the dialect thing too far and force the reader to translate, I describe the setting a bit too much and again, the reader’s bored. I go one step too far. Adverbs — another example. I decide to eliminate them from my writing and I literally don’t have any at all in my prose, not even one. (I’m speaking strictly of the “-ly” adverbs here, not adverbs in general, just so you know.)
A weakness to attack. At the same time I don’t want to go too far the other way and leave my descriptions too spartan, my dialog too bland and flavorless, my banter too curt and fake and clipped. Balance. It’s always been a chore for me, whether in writing, smoking, relationships, eating, or any other area of my life.
What weaknesses do you have to confront in your writing, and are those things reflected in other aspects of your life?
Sound off, y’all.
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