So I finally got motivated to do something with my writing rut, and contacted my old writing coach in San Francisco. I figured she could help, because her specialty was classes to help people find their inner writer, their inner stories, the stories that really get them going, and that’s what I need. She’s not cheap, but this is pretty damned important.
I didn’t hear back from her for several days, and started to wonder if she was active in the writing coach business, but she wrote me back today! She’s a busy stay-at-home mom at the moment, but she and I have worked together via email correspondance even when we lived in the same city, so this is a good, and I am cautiously hopeful.
So Julie’s reading my old novel chapter by chapter, and I’ve had to read it myself to clean up the editing remarks embedded in the text before sending it off to her. And it’s making me kinda sad. I’m a pretty good writer, damn it, and after four years of fan fic, I think I’m even better.
I should be writing a novel again.
ETA: It’s not an inability to write (I’ve been writing a lot…of fan fic), or lack of desire to write (I’m tormented by my desire to write original fic), or even lacking for writing prompts. It’s an inability of the prompts to connect to something inside me, inspiring writing.
ETA ETA: And it’s not related to my dad’s death. It’s been going on for *four years now*.
And why the third movie is canon for me.
The movies, the TV show–Sarah’s mission to prevent the war from happening makes no sense. Well, it makes perfect sense if you’re trying to stop a war. But if you’re trying to build a better future for your son John Connor? It makes no sense at all. If there’s no war, there’s no reason for Kyle Reese to go back in time (and no opportunity), and John will never exist.
They bit the bullet and started the war in the third movie. I respect that.
A recent post on my flist mentioning NaNoWriMo got me thinking. Well, I was thinking before that, because Julie had asked me about my writing and I had to admit to her it was all fan fic these days, and no original fic. And I miss original fic. The challenge of it, the greater opportunity for self-expression it provides. Not to diss fan fic by any means; I am going to be sending Julie the first chapter of my old novel, Dis/inhibition, and I’m embarrassed about it because I ramble on unnecessarily. Fan fic has taught me to say a lot with much fewer words and improved my writing in important ways.
But I’m getting the urge to go back to original fic. The only thing stopping me is, well, finding the time between life stuff and finishing my fan fics, and still having no good ideas for original fic, ideas that are tangible enough to sustain a big writing project of the kind I inevitably do.
Probably for NaNo, I’ll just push on three TD eps simultaneously like I did last year (or was it the year before?). TD 214 is going slowly because I don’t want to do anything obvious for the episode, and have been waiting for my brane to come up with something a little different (which it is, slowly).
The original fic just has to evolve slowly. That’s how my other two original stories came about. Invent a few characters, put them out there, and see what they do. I don’t want to pick up those old stories and start them up again because I want to find out who I am now, not who I was at 29 or 35.