“Self,” I said to myself, “maybe you should try writing short form fiction. People say it’s good practice and boy do you take FOREVER to write novels. (Yes, you can write one in a month, but then what do you do? You pick your toenails and drink hot chocolate and refuse to edit.) So, self, here’s the deal. Write a short story. Pull that tooth.”
So I started a short story. Which turned into a novella (at roughly 20,000 words), and it took me so long. 🙂 I don’t love writing fast for its own sake, but my life is so hectic that if I lose momentum, the chances of finishing are inversely proportional to the likelihood that a toddler pounding on the keyboard and sucking on the mouse will accidentally delete the whole thing (and all its back up copies). The odds of finishing STINK, is what I’m saying. So, I’m trying different methods to learn how to write faster.
My scientific conclusion: novellas are right out. (<-Read that with a British accent.) Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m quite proud of my little story! Writing a whole character arc in that little space forced me to really delve into tone and theme and character flaws and hit the beats. It’s one of the best things I’ve written, frankly, with one of my favorite characters, because of those constraints.
But man, it was hard. I felt like a baby trying to walk in a sleep bag. Does anybody use sleep bags for their toddler? They’re awesome, provide a good bit of room to wiggle but keep the kid from throwing off the blanket in the night. Anyway, sometimes my eight-year-old liberates the baby from her pack-n-play (’cause we’re cheap and never got the fourth one a crib or anything), and she toddles around in her sleep bag. Step, step, thud. Stepstepstep. THUD.
Where was I?
I don’t know. Anyway, new novella, favorite character, yada, yada, yada.
Thanks, have a great night.