Writing. What do you do each day that doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t contribute to your writing \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and can you eliminate it?<\/i><\/p>\n
In 2010<\/a>, I said everything<\/i>. In 2015<\/a>, I said fear<\/i>.<\/p>\n This year, it’s just sitting down and doing it. This year, I did nearly 3 rounds of forcing myself to complete writing. First, there was that ridiculous idea of #the100dayproject<\/a> on the worst platform for my kind of self-expression: instagram, which I did 100 days of plotting<\/a>. Then I did 30 days of Writing<\/a>. Then for the third year in a row and the fourth year, I did nanowrimo, this time writing about multiple relationships to a dead woman. For the latter, I really thought that it was impossible to finish due all the significant events happening during November. But I always finish, so I finished.<\/p>\n I was pleased with the results by pushing myself through it. This year, I spent 160 days writing. And there probably was more when I was editing my work. Although much of the writing produced probably didn’t result in greatness I still felt that some really did.<\/p>\n If I hadn’t: I couldn’t have touched the nuances of a CEO in Silicon Valley. Nor would I have instantly explored the toughness of a woman on the brink of stepping off a cliff. Or encapsulating the fragile relationship of a divorced, bitter mother with a young curious son.<\/p>\n And so what can I do with the other 205 days? My hired developmental editor suggested setting an award for completion. But maybe it’s letting the inspiration come all the time. And most importantly, letting the horrible first draft arrive. Then I write the better draft.<\/p>\n Sit my butt down and write.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Writing. What do you do each day that doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t contribute to your writing \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and can you eliminate it? In 2010, I said everything. In 2015, I said fear. This year, it’s just sitting down and doing it. This year, … Continue reading