... received payment from Blue Rose Bouquet ...
May 7, 1999
5:06 a.m.
It's a good news/bad news kind of day, you know? The good news is that the draft of the new story is essentially done, and the first four pages are doing exactly what I want them to be doing. The bad news is that the story is, ummm . . . considerably longer than four pages. I guess it's not that surprising that I'm not jumping for joy over this implementation. My first drafts, on the whole, usually suck river water. Yeah, sometimes I get one that I like, but its usually because I'm too close to it, too infatuated with it to see it for the disfigured creep it really is. After all, the first draft's primary purpose is to cement the story in my mind so that I can get it closer to right the next pass through. However, this particular first draft is, well, to be kind I'll just say it's more quality-challenged than others, and leave it at that. It has, however, served its purpose. I understand the story I'm trying to tell, it's a pretty long story, but I managed to push it out of me in only four or five mornings (it's novelette right now, but hopefully I'll be able to cut it down to short story length before it's done). Theoretically, I can get it rewritten in a couple days. We'll see, though. The proof is only in the pudding and all that malarkey. The important thing with this one has been to keep my confusion with the story's details from getting in the way of producing words, to not worry about the quality of the first draft. While I knew what the big story was about, I wasn't certain of each character, and I was letting it get to me. So I needed to just spew [Charles Eckert, who I learned is reading here occasionally--hi Chuck!--will know what I mean!] here, and just let it run. So, now it's done, and I can get to making the parts that aren't working work. Deep sigh of relief.   In other areas, I'm almost caught up on my short fiction reading. This process has given me a revelation. I've been complaining for years that I never get a chance to read anything anymore, and I point to the "stack" of something like four novels that I've read in the past year as my evidence. And it's a good point. I have only read four or so novels in the past year. And that's not much. When I think of it like that, I get all sweaty and nervous. A good writer reads in the field, I think. A good writer reads outside the field. I need to read more, I tell myself, feeling my heart drooping with the mere idea of adding more major efforts to my already bulging plate of major time sinks. But for all my talk of self awareness, I'm really quite blind at times, and today, I'm feeling pretty damned stupid if I can say so myself. You see, I've finally figured out that I read actually read a ton. Heck, I get each of the big three (at a hundred and some pages each issue) and SF Age (at 60-80), and while I don't read every single story of every single issye, I do read them all pretty thoroughly. And I usually pick up an anthology or two every few months because of all the successful friends I have. I also read as many of the works nominated from more obscure publications as they are sent to me. Beyond that, between writers groups, WOTF folks, and the occasional personal requests I cram in as I can, I'm critiquing 3-10 stories a month at times. I also read non-fiction, and the Net, researching ideas and topics almost constantly. I'm a danged readaholic, when I look at it that way. You see, I just needed to change my perspective, that's all. No, I don't read a lot of novels. Yes, I would love to. But I can tell you quite a bit about who's selling what to who when it comes to professional short fiction markets. Suddenly, I feel a lot better. Have a good one.  I think you're not sleeping enough! Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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"Listen to your heart and your heart might say, Everything we got, we got the hard way." Mary-Chapin Carpenter |
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