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Posts Tagged ‘chapters’

I made it to 1:11 PM today without any caffeine. This is a feat of epic proportions. And, all by itself, it might be worthy of a blog post. But since you were probably anticipating something with a bit more substance, I shall try to add words to this post. The caffeine hasn’t sunk in yet. Bear with me.

I’m officially caught up at my desk at the law firm. I’ve dabbled around editing the first three chapters of Rise of the Dark Sprite. And ideas for future books are nibbling at the corners of my consciousness, taunting me with their sweetness while giving no hint as to their substance. All in all, I feel–just a hint–more like myself. Although, that could have something to do with the love recently given by my niece.

Baby Evelyn held onto her mother’s hands today and walked with great determination and sweetness towards me. Sister Kate and I both watched in amazement at her new prowess. And it made this aunt feel very loved.

As for this moment… a little introvert time. Josh Garrels, Starbucks’ coffee (yay!), and writing. Yes. I’m in for a good couple of hours.

Blog Bonus Feature: My health hasn’t weathered all the travel of the last few weeks very well, but I’ve decided to embrace whatever this summer season brings. The adventure will be worth the exhaustion. My advice to you: Stop and smell the roses. Even if they make you sneeze.

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Well, folks, it happened. The well of creativity overflowed. I’ve spent sleepless nights and groggy days in a state of writing bliss. I admit that while I was blogging about the certainty of eventual inspiration for my climax, I felt anything but certain. But it worked. My crazy, weird routine worked.

Talking with a fellow creative after church this morning, I found support for the need to throw out the rule book. But I liked his point. That we have to understand the rules’ purpose and give them a fair shot before we put them in the trash bin. If I needed confirmation that the Jessie Mae Writing Guidebook (I like that name better. I’m renaming it.) should find its way to the blogosphere, I have it.

But let’s backtrack a little. To Topsfield Maine, where I spent Thursday evening through Saturday. It houses the family farm, an hour north of Lincoln–a town whose recent addition of a Dunkin’ Donuts closes at the same time as its Walmart: 9:00 PM. Sharp.

Bye, bye civilization. But the stillness; the lack of wifi; and the nearness of the coffee pot… it was all what I needed to make my final push. My parents, my wonderful parents, asked me to do absolutely nothing the whole time. They brought me coffee and listened to my weird music and didn’t try suggesting I should sleep. My brother–who came up with his kids on Saturday–encouraged me just as fiercely. Each felt the surge of writing in me and respected it. I adore them all.

And so, a dozen cups of coffee and twenty thousand words later (I’m already fifteen thousand words over my hopeful end point), I find myself a mere few chapters from finishing. Will it happen today? I left my sister/her baby and even forewent my nephew’s second seventh birthday party (the second round of celebrating year 7) in the hopes that I will, indeed, finish. I claimed a table at Starbucks, bought some iced coffee, and plugged in The Piano Guys. Because this is routine and, if the last twenty thousand words have showed me anything, it is that the method in my madness works.

So let’s hope I finish soon, because you–and all my friends and family–probably won’t hear from me again until I do.

Blog Bonus Feature: My virtual notebook is chocked full of character facts and plot problems. It keeps me organized. Good solutions will earn a happy face. Bad solutions are getting a frowny face today.

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It’s 10:00 in the morning. I’m flipping through the chapters I have already written, trying not to grimace at their epic badness as I make the plot line shifts necessary for forward movement. Honestly, the condition of this novel is grave. Thankfully, I have eight years of training in salvaging lost causes, so I press on.

I’ve got the playlist entitled ‘Thinking Music’ on in the background. It is a desperate attempt to reach the contemplative, artistic state that used to be so easily attained. Man. The relapse of Babesiousis that crept up on me in December really forced me out of good habits. Time to get back into my craft.

So with a rugged determination, I’m back to the novel. I will ignore the urge to edit, refuse to despair at the faultiness of my words, and finish this difficult catch-up so that I may free-write once more. Yes. Back to work I go.

For small or big tasks, for high or low moments, Philippians 3:12 (NIV, 1984) keeps summing me up:

“Not that I have already obtained all this or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” 

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