Doubting Thomasina

I have now morphed into ‘Doubting Thomasina’ with regards to writing my first novel. I knew that this would happen at some stage but I hoped I would cross the ‘first draft completed’ stage before doubt’s terrible onset. I now fear that opening a chapter written weeks ago will spiral me into a panic when I realize how truly awful and juvenile it reads. I wonder will I be able to finish the first draft with my creative confidence now so low ?

It was too good to be true – I hurtled away for weeks and weeks, writing solidly every day. Then late last week, the rhythm of my work changed –  words no longer flowed as smoothly and my ideas had become less colourful.  Paragraph structure became clunky and sentences became less lyrical. Had I used the same words too many times; was my phraseology being repeated and did my characters have enough individual characteristics to make them come alive?

I had hoped that I would encounter this crippling doubt after my first draft was completed – perhaps when I had settled into the first editing stage? Alas not! Now I am doubting all that I have already written, all that I still need to write  complete my first draft and all that I will need to rewrite  many, many times before it is even close to being where I want it to be.

Creative confidence appears to be an elusive disposition – where for art thou ‘Thomasina the Believer’, I hope that you show up soon!

NMG.C

A new Irish writer and a first novel

In November 2011, I became a self-proclaimed Irish writer (albeit, very newbie) and started work on my first novel. Losing my job and having no sense of what I wanted to do with my life  finally drove me to seriously consider committing to the project. I had talked about starting a novel  for 10yrs, and I knew I had a story to tell, but I had never until now felt so driven to begin it. I could no longer contain the story within me, and I’m glad I’ve waited. Events of the past few years have added the best possible insight to the over-all story – the time seemed right to start.

I knew from the outset the entire process would be a tough job and a long slog. I had my ideas, my characters, my plots, and my themes down – all inspired from true events and people. I considered the structure over and over until I decided there was only one way I could tell the story to give it justice. The novel would have two sub-stories told separately at intersecting chapters, as they were intrinsically linked together. They would then weave together towards the mid-end to a bitter crescendo. The fallout over many years afterwards would be examined, but mostly from the POV of the centre character who then entered a stage of self-reflection, depression and philosophical examination.

I couldn’t bear to read any plotting guidelines and structure guides as, whether foolishly or not, I wanted to tell the story from the heart, the way it happened. I am almost 70K words in now and aiming for 80K+ on the first draft. I’ll give it a rest then for a few weeks and revise.

I may hate it, and cut chucks out or hide it in a box for it never to be seen again. My only goal now is to keep plodding on, 8 hours a day writing until I have finished. I am aiming for end of February to ‘tools down’ on the first draft and let it (am me) sleep for a week. Writing is mentally & emotionally exhausting I have found.

THEN:

• Read a book on Grammer!
• Re-read MS as a whole & mark-up
• Revise MS
• Tear hair out
• Read MS as a whole again & mark-up
• Tear hair out
• Revise MS
• Proofread entire MS backwards.

In the meantime, I need to check out literary agents for women’s fiction (the dark kind), publishing houses, editors and critique services. I am a long way off from finishing, but pleased that months of full time writing have yielded 70k words, that have been therapeutic if nothing else.I am hoping that’s good for a newbie Irish writer.

NMG.C

Miss Demeanor and Mr Worry

Misdemeanor and Mr Worry – now they are great pals. The  battle of internal reconciliation can follow us everyday. I am one of these soldiers. I weigh up things that I have said and done, especially the things I wish I hadn’t said and done, and  try to find peace inside so that I don’t descend into an inner turmoil of regret and self punishment.

Humans are not infallible – we all make mistakes –  but why can we not forgive ourselves for things we wish we had never said or done, even if we are forgiven by those we have hurt. Misdemeanors such as a truth told too bluntly; a true feeling aired at an inappropriate time; letting someone down because you needed to focus on yourself for a little while or not being  honest with a loved one because you couldn’t face the consequences just now.

These are not heinous actions by any means, but somehow a litany of mini social misdemeanors can build up inside to make us fret about our over-all motives and actions. Are we too selfish, uncouth or just a worrier? Or is it perhaps that some of us have such an innate need of approval from others that this struggles with the need for self-expression? The result of this battle is always ‘worry’ and a search for internal reconciliation. If some of us didn’t have this need for approval, would we worry about our misdemeanors as much?

On the contrary, there an individuals who have such a solid sense of self that they never worry about such discrepancies, simply because they have reconciled with themselves why the course of action was warranted. These people have mastered the ‘don’t sweat the small stuff’ mantra.

Perhaps we should wallow in the aftermath less and focus on the big picture more.

NMG.C