Tuesday, March 25, 2014

20 days in

Can you write a novel four sentences at a time? My 300 days project has been an exercise in snapshots so far, tiny fruity pebbles of writing each night or at lunch. No more than 20 minutes at a time until tonight, when I've had a luxurious hour to myself. I've written every day except one when I was so sick and tired I fell asleep at 8 p.m. I keep thinking of the image--via Anne Lamott, I think--of the writer who would get up from the desk, drive around the block, race back to the desk and write as many sentences as possible until he couldn't bear it anymore, then drive around the block again. Wash, rinse, repeat. Why is writing so hard and so essential at the same time?

Also read an interesting article on the tyranny of Word as word processing tool. I've been using Evernote to write my bits: sometimes dictating through my cell phone, on the Kindle, iPad, web version. You can't get very precious with Evernote, which is the point--no endless font picking, just butt in chair. . .you know the rest.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

the 300-days project: soft launch is in the bag

During resolution season, I decided a new Big Hairy Audacious Goal was needed for 2014: I'm embarking on 300 days of daily writing. To make sure it isn't 300 days of one-word-per-day (I can be sneaky that way), I've set some guidelines:

* I will write at least 10,000 words per month
* I have two book-length projects I can work on, and I will write wherever the "juice" is (this is to avoid project spawn--new projects can be so much more appealing than the one right in front of me, especially if I've written myself into a corner)
* Non-project writing (scene lists, journaling, character studies, writing prompts, blog posts and tweets) don't count toward the 10,000 word limit but may count as writing for the day in a pinch

Today marks the 300-days-left-in-2014 point, so it's the official start of my project. I "soft-launched" last week and with a few days in the bag, I'm feeling good about the goal. More to come. . .