 I’ve written more in the last month than I have in the previous year.
It is true, writing everyday has made me a better writer. I have struggled to write a few paragraphs of anything and I have enjoyed the inspired flow of words that almost wrote themselves. I have felt the difference. I wrote stories that I planned out before I went to the park. And I wrote stories that came to me when I forgot about the outline and just noticed details. I wrote stories that started as one topic and ended up a completely different topic by the end. I loved re-writing the first draft. Editing and tweaking and re-writing again. Loved it. Titles are challenging. The opening line and the ending line were the next toughest. I could always cut down my word count by another ten percent. I sometimes told the story rather than showed the story. I changed that if I found it. If I had trouble starting, I simply typed. Anything. And on every occasion, except once, it developed into a story. The most personal stories were the easiest to write. And I enjoyed re-reading these stories too. I may be the only one who does. I figured out that small index cards work well to write down details. And I found it easiest to write the story on the day it happened, when the details and emotions were fresh. If I remembered to read the story out loud, I would catch awkward flow, repetitive sentence length and words that didn’t make sense. I still have problems staying in one verb tense. I am proud of what I wrote and how much I wrote. I know these were essentially first drafts and it excited me to know what the stories could become with more editing. I can't wait to take another class and learn more, improve more. "What am I trying to say?” is the question that kept me focused. Writing every day was an absolute mental drain. And I loved every single minute of it. Photo by rahego Comments are closed.
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