Today’s bitch-space is brought to you courtesy of a very distracted mind. I got no idea today, too many things to do and my routine has been shot.
I really want to write shit, edit Gamer, write Woman in White. I feel pulled in multiple directions, especially with the need to get Short Bits Collected Edition to the printer. It doesn’t feel like I’m in a place where I can comfortably settle in and just write write write.
But has it ever felt like that? Aren’t I always distracted by something or someone? (Such as the video in the background. Blah) Has there ever been a moment/time/few days or a week where I’ve felt like I was snuggled up in bed with the story? I don’t think so, I think that sensation is a product of my imagination.
There’s always been a reluctance, an uncomfortableness whenever I sat down to write. No matter how much I want to write something, how much I anticipate or plan or imagine it, there’s always that… thing.
What is the thing? I think it’s the fear (there’s that word) that the thing in my head won’t be the thing on the page. Somewhere between what I see and what I write, there is a disconnect a… Monster? Error in translation that skews what I thought was the story, scene and/or character, into something else.
That’s what the fear is, the not being able to exactly replicate the vision.
It comes from the same place that frustrates my drawing. Why is that? Why can’t what I see/imagine be what I produce/draw/write? Where is the translation mishap?
Will shoving past the critical voice change that? Is it changeable? Is there something wrong with the translation error? Does not the translation “error” make a better story? What is to say that the difference is bad? I don’t know. There are a lot of things I don’t know.
I guess the proof of it all will be in the writing.
So… the writing…
Didn’t do a type type type session yesterday, but I did get a little editing on Gamer done, so, there’s that.
I’m eager (and scared) to get stuck into Woman In White, and eager to get stuck into Gamer as well. No fear in Gamer, at least not in the editing stage. That’s easy. The bits that need filling in… We’ll see when we get there. All that really needs to be done is connecting the dots and writing action. I can write action, action is what I do.
And now I’m at 9 minutes and the middle has struck. Not as good as yesterday, where the middle didn’t really strike at all, but still better than all the other days.
What am I going to write here? What thoughts need pouring onto the page? Can’t think of any writing-related shit and I really want to keep this to writing-related shit.
How about this… In the first bitch-space I floated the idea of publishing these sessions on the blog. Why haven’t I done that? One, I don’t think anyone is really interested in my ramblings; two, I don’t want to get called out/crapped on by angry people, especially with the Mr Smith reference; and three… I don’t know what three is— Hang on, yes I do. I don’t want bitch-space to negatively impact my publishing/author persona.
These, of course, are all fears. Are they valid? According to Mr Smith, no they are not. Publish the shit.
What’s the worst that can happen? Mr Smith (or his estate/relatives/lawyer) gets angry that I told him to fuck off. Or trolls hang shit on me, and spread bitch-space far and wide and I get a horrible, horrible repuation… and then people buy my books out of prurient curiosity, and… that’s not a bad thing.
Verdict, there’s nothing really that bad about publishing bitch-space. If people aren’t interested, they aren’t going to read it and I’m sure that Mr Smith has been told worse things in his life than to fuck off. And really, I was only reacting to his statement about only writing 500 words an hour and that’s a me problem and no one else’s. So there. Issue resolved.
Go publish Bitch-space.