So, as you folks may have heard, I’m running a Writer’s Collective. It’s been in existence since September, and so far it’s going really well.
But I hadn’t written two lines together in that time.
Between working full time and getting this (way more popular than I was expecting) group off the ground, and applying for my Masters, I’ve been swamped. I run a critique circle within this group, and I’ve mostly been using existing work to submit. Then I ran out of things I felt comfortable sharing and I went to a meeting empty-handed. Oops.
Then this weekend came and I don’t know what happened. I’ve written more this weekend than I have in the last three months combined. Fantastic, right? Except I wrote on about five different things, and researched places for submission, and quickly realised I have nothing to submit because it’s all too long and/or requires too much revision, and just wrote more. I’ve turned what was a short story into the beginnings of a novel. I brought it to my critique group and I just go so inspired by the whole thing.
That’s novel-in-progress number five for those at home keeping track.
What am I doing with my life?! Two are Young Adult, Three are Adult-Adult, and none are even vaguely finished. Is this normal? I’d only consider three to be actively in progress, with the other two shelved, at least temporarily. Unfortunately, those two are the ones I’m furthest along on but have the least interest in. I don’t doubt those two statements are more than casually related. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. My life’s dream since I understood what a book actually was is to write them.
I’m really hoping that what I have going on right now is going to be what sustains me and becomes what I want to publish. I’ve been really into Young Adult fiction lately. I feel like I want to write the book that would have got me through my adolescence easier had I not thought myself too smart to read Young Adult fiction when I was a younger adult. I want to write characters that I never saw when I was young and hope that the kids reading it will finally have someone to relate to.
Anyway, this is just more of me thinking out loud. I’m enjoying my writing weekend and am thankful my power hasn’t gone out (yet). I’m just enjoying the excuse to not run errands and stay warm in my house, fire roaring, Christmas lights twinkling, laundry machine going, and the sound of my keys tap-tap-tapping out my life’s great ambition.
See you on the other side, my friends.