My new writing routine has been to put the tail end of whatever I've written for the day into my "Continuing Current Work" file on Google Docs, so if I want to keep going on my phone later, after the computer is off, I can. This is usually prefaced with [where i am] and sometimes followed up with a bracket containing my immediate plans for the scene.
Allow me to share what I put in that Google doc early this afternoon when I stopped work and turned off the computer:
[where i am:
His first official banquet as zongzhu.
The war was over, the Wen Clan had been decimated, Wen Ruohan’s ashes had been spread to the wind, and the few remaining people important to him were still alive and well and by his side.
Jiang Cheng was deeply aware that he ought to be happier than he was.
Instead, he felt rather like he stood on the edge of a precipice. No, in the middle of an elevated platform that dangled by unsafe ropes.
[when I started that paragraph, I knew where I was going with it. I don’t anymore, and that was like a minute ago. D: hopefully I’ll remember it later?]
ðŸ˜
I still don't remember where I was going with that.
Something about his worries of finding a husband for his sister, maybe, or...something? ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜µðŸ’«ðŸ˜ðŸ˜«
See, this is why it's taking me forever to finish this dang thing. I keep getting hung up on some little point or other, and stall myself for hours or even days. 😣
(Also not helping is that I wrote like five long, twisted paragraphs of Lan Xichen reflecting on how he didn't understand what this whole 'love' thing was really about and how disgusting sex was, and not only is it convoluted and confusing, I'm quite sure it's entirely out of character. 😰 I may be able to keep a little of it, since I do see him as being pretty ace, but...most of it will have to go in the next draft, meaning it was entirely a waste of time writing it in the first place. ðŸ˜)
I don't have any point in saying any of this, of course. I just felt like whining into the void about it.
Lately I've been doing some room cleaning and running across all sorts of scraps and fragments of writing ideas. Some go back decades. I always keep this stuff when I run across it. Maybe try to put it into some kind of order, but mostly I just pile it back into another box. I figure maybe someday I'll use those ideas. Some I might even figure out why I wrote them and what they are supposed to mean.
ReplyDeleteMaybe someday has become my mantra. Or my eternal excuse.
Lee