This blog is coming to you live (well, not really “live”) from my new, navy blue writing chair.
I have decided that I do not like this navy blue chair as much as my broken black one. The headrest does not lock and it hurts my neck. I shall likely be sending it back as it is clearly an inferior chair.
That being said, let’s move on to today’s blog! Words. I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately. A few weeks ago, a customer and I bonded over our notebook obsessions. She told me she was a writer and loved writing screenplays, and filled dozens and dozens of journals and notebooks, but had given it up, let it smolder and burn on the back of the mental stove. I told it was never too late.
She told me she was far too old.
I died a little. No one’s ever too old to follow their passion. Unless you maybe want to be a contortionist. There’s probably a limit on that.
Earlier this week I really cracked down onto the still untitled Book 2 (Or The Killing Type 2). I was shocked that without really trying, it’s already up to 6k. Sure, it’s not super impressive at this stage but it’s far more than I thought I’d had. I’ve only written a couple of scenes, bits and pieces, nothing really solid, but I’m already into it.
I remember when I thought 80k was impossible. I didn’t understand how anyone had 80k (or 120k or whatever) in them. I thought it was an amazing feat. And you know what?
Sure, The Killing Type is at 77k (for the moment), but that’s 77,000 words. Seventy-seven THOUSAND. If I had a dollar for each of those words, my student loans would be obliterated AND I could afford a couple month’s rent. Or new shoes.
It’s not really the words themselves that are weird, but that I can compile any number of them and make something. It might take me a year to do it (two, in the TKT’s case), but I built something I love.
Earlier this week, I was speaking with a friend over Twitter. She’s bursting with all these ideas, but can never finish a draft. I remember what finishing was like too. It’s scary, but it’s also powerful, fulfilling and magical. I offered her some advice on taking things one step at a time. One word at a time. That’s how things start–and end–one word at a time.
She seems to be doing better, focusing on one project. I look forward to hearing how she does.
As for me, it’s a new slate with The Killing Type 2. I don’t have a first line. I don’t have an ending. I don’t even know if this will be a series. I have another book waiting in the wings.
I’m starting in the middle, like I always do, and working my way inside-out. I have 6,000 words.
There’s not just going to write themselves.