Monday, January 31, 2011

New project ramblings. Finger blasting.

NOTE: There is nothing of value in this post, I'm just getting my thoughts and anxieties out. Also, I'm thinking about rewriting the "Twilight" novels with as many references to 'finger blasting' as possible. INSTANT. MILLIONAIRE. 

In the middle of a snow storm almost two weeks ago --moments before I made my way outside to clean  god's dander off my car and go to work-- I fiercely pushed out the remaining appendages of my novella. Perhaps, it was the fact that I was late to work, but I didn't feel a lot excitement that I had finished something of that length (I should have been, I think).

The next morning though, I was hit hard with all kinds of weirdness. I became uncomfortable and anxious that I didn't have anything to work on. I could have gone back to revise, but I'm of the philosophy that new manuscripts/storys/whatever need to vaulted for a few weeks before taking another look at them. I could have also gone back to revise my NaNo novel, but after skimming through that mess, I'm not so sure that it's worth it.

So, I spent the next few days writing critiques for the writing group (which you can find a great explanation of here) and doing blog posts to keep the muscle strong. Both activities were great exercises, but were just crutches to help me to the next project. I let a half-dozen, serious story ideas distill in my head until I felt one of them had enough of a choke hold on brain to start writing it down. The weird thing is, it's the one story that is the least science-fictiony and stands very well outside my comfort zone.

It involves a murder mystery, a more literary-fiction type of relationship between two characters and is set in a kinda/sorta sci-fi setting. Two of those genres I read sparingly--although I've started enjoying mysteries more over the past few years--meaning, I truly have no idea where this going, and as I'm not outlining anything right now, I don't even know 'who dun it'. My typing is constantly timid, rereading/editing has become incessant  and my feelings towards the story are ambiguous. But surprisingly, thus far I think it's some of the better writing I've ever done. We'll see if it is even remotely sustainable since the word count is way down on it.

I'll post an excerpt later this week, if I'm still feeling good about it.

P.S. - The term 'finger blasting' sends me into uncontrollable, laughing fits.

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