My brain has been on overdrive lately. That's the thing with writing as a profession. Lots of the hardest work is done when I'm just sitting there, seemingly watching TV or something while I'm thinking about elements or characters or any number of things that need to be worked out in a manuscript. My brain never stops during these times. NEVER. When I can't come up with what I need, half of my brain is chugging away at the problem and the other half is yelling at me for not being able to figure it out. Yes, I have voices in my head and they're fighting!
Today I'll be submitting another project I've just completed. It's a western ghost writing thing and now that it's done, I can focus on Skinners 5. All the while, my brain's been working out all the parts of Skinners that need to be edited, how they'll be edited, what to keep, what to throw out, which characters go, which stay, what makes sense and what doesn't. The list goes on and on and ON and it's always cycling through my puzzler no matter what I'm doing. When I sleep, I don't get the cool "I just dreamt the BEST story and I should jump out of bed and write it down" sort of dreams. I get the crazy "my brain is busy and frustrated so it's sending me disjointed chaos during my sleepy-time hours" sort of dreams. Is it any wonder why so many writers are alcoholics? Not that I'm spending all this time drunk, but it is almost obscene how good it feels to take a shot of Jim Beam every now and then. Can't drink too much, though, because I've got more work to do.
And don't worry. Despite all of this, Skinners is coming along nicely. Actually, this is more or less my "process" so the book is coming along nicely BECAUSE of this. Really? Why do some writers get a muse and I get psychotic mental ramblings about werewolves and monster hunters? Sure, sometimes those ramblings are pretty cool. That being said, a nice, gentle muse or a million dollar dream would be a pleasant change of pace.
Today I'll be submitting another project I've just completed. It's a western ghost writing thing and now that it's done, I can focus on Skinners 5. All the while, my brain's been working out all the parts of Skinners that need to be edited, how they'll be edited, what to keep, what to throw out, which characters go, which stay, what makes sense and what doesn't. The list goes on and on and ON and it's always cycling through my puzzler no matter what I'm doing. When I sleep, I don't get the cool "I just dreamt the BEST story and I should jump out of bed and write it down" sort of dreams. I get the crazy "my brain is busy and frustrated so it's sending me disjointed chaos during my sleepy-time hours" sort of dreams. Is it any wonder why so many writers are alcoholics? Not that I'm spending all this time drunk, but it is almost obscene how good it feels to take a shot of Jim Beam every now and then. Can't drink too much, though, because I've got more work to do.
And don't worry. Despite all of this, Skinners is coming along nicely. Actually, this is more or less my "process" so the book is coming along nicely BECAUSE of this. Really? Why do some writers get a muse and I get psychotic mental ramblings about werewolves and monster hunters? Sure, sometimes those ramblings are pretty cool. That being said, a nice, gentle muse or a million dollar dream would be a pleasant change of pace.
