This morning’s craft chapter was on Just-wanting-to-get-it-done-itis. Sellers was talking about that stage, usually in the first major revision of a piece, where you are sick to death of looking at a manuscript and you’re ready to ship it off as is, rather than stare at it anymore. I can’t say that I’ve had that particular experience at that point (probably because I haven’t FINISHED all that many books yet), but I sure as heck have it now on my outline. I’ve been outlining Til Death for two weeks. Maybe this is the third week. I’ve lost track. Instead of going with the sort of vague “and then something happens to show the devolution of Wyatt’s behavior”, I’m actually taking the time to figure out what that something is.
It’s driving me crazy.
I want it finished. I hate outlining. I hate planning out every little thing. Kind of like most exercise…I know it’s good for me but ugh! This is all probably because outlining–for me–is hard. I get bogged down in the outline the same way I get bogged down in the actual draft. The Dreaded Valley of the Shadow of the Middle is the same in any incarnation. It sucks and it’s scary. But I’m still powering through. I spend a lot of time feeling like I’m doing nothing. A few lines in the outline may be all I have to show as my progress for the day. Pot says I’m thinking about the plot on a much deeper level than I did with my pantsing habits, and that’s probably true. Doesn’t mean I like this process any more.
Yeah, I know. Whine whine bitch moan moan. If I stick my lip out in a pout any further, I’ll trip over it.
I’m ready to write. To start committing to paper (or screen rather) all the changes, the new direction that will, I think, make an outstanding improvement in my book. I want to see it take shape, take life in a way that outlines simply do not show. I want that Dr. Frankenstein feeling “It’s alive!” Because right now it just feels dead in my head. Well, no, that’s not entirely true. But it’s hard for me to get excited about outlining like I do the actual writing. Outlining is not an escape for me. And I guess that’s another large part of my funk. The day job, the second job, family pressures–it’s been kind of a lousy couple of weeks, and I want that escape from it. I want to lose myself in the world where I make the rules and nobdy can coerce me into doing something I don’t want to (well, with the exception of those occasions when my characters insist they know better than me, but that’s a subject for another post).
I’m going to stop whining and go back to work.