This was a slow week since I only wrote 4,010 new words. I spent most of the week transcribing chapters of a novel that I hand-wrote a couple of weeks ago. I enjoy handwriting, but transcribing sucks.
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What counts as writing?
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard (or read) this advice from professional writers to starry-eyed amateurs like myself:
“If you want to write professionally, you should keep professional hours: eight hours a day, five days a week minimum.”
“You should write 1,000 to 2,000 words a day, and do that every day for the next five years.”
But what does that actually mean? What counts as writing? Does outlining count as writing? What about researching the market? Do you get to count editing a 5,000-page story in your “thousand words a day” quota? What about blogging and promotion? Reading Tolstoy? Does that stuff count?
I didn’t edit or delete anything when I first started writing fiction, which made it easy to keep track of my word count. It also gave me confidence.
Instead of feeling depressed about how bad I was, I looked at this stream-of-consciousness pile of crap and said, “Wow. I wrote 400 pages!”
I couldn’t have written that much if I’d slowed down enough to actually judge my work. (If there are any timid beginning writers out there, I definitely suggest giving yourself a ream of paper to play around with–don’t even reread it. You’ll just get discouraged if you judge your early work too harshly.) I filed those early stories away and promised myself I’d get back to them later…when I knew what I was doing.
My struggle with how to quantify my work came when I began researching, outlining, and editing.
The trouble with only keeping track of your word count is that you can pad your writing with crap. I can write a thousand words in an hour, but will my writing be any good? Not always. Writing well, for me, usually requires some planning ahead of time and editing after the fact; both of those tasks usually shrink my word count.
The problem with only keeping track of the hours is that you can sink months–even years–into researching and outlining a novel, yet not have anything substantial to show for yourself. It’s hard to judge when “researching” turns into “procrastinating.” It’s hard to feel like a real writer when you’re not watching a stack of pages grow.
I’ve heard that some writers spend part of their day producing new fiction–2,000 words, or whatever–and doing other writerly tasks once their minimum word count is done: researching their next novel, editing, proffering to editors, etc.
For the time being, I’m experimenting with a modified version of Heinlein’s Rules as a way to structure my day because there are lots of writing tasks, but some of them are more important than others. Each day I try to start with Rule #1 and accomplish that before I move to Rule #2, and so on.
RULE #1: YOU MUST WRITE. (The reason it’s first is because it’s the most important. The rest of the machinery doesn’t work unless you’ve got new words.)
RULE #2: YOU MUST FINISH WHAT YOU WRITE. (For me, this means writing in chunks so that I can have a finished scene, chapter, or story that I can put aside and say, “This is ready for my alpha reader.” Proofreading for typos, misspelled, or missing words counts in this category. I try to keep editing at a minimum because of Rule #3. If there are any notes from my alpha reader, than this is when I implement them before moving onto Rule #4.)
RULE #3: YOU MUST REFRAIN FROM REWRITING, EXCEPT TO EDITORIAL ORDER. (The part I emphasize here is “Editorial Order.” This is the point in my day where I check-in with my audience: post my word count, blog, and share my story with an alpha reader (or readers). More on alpha readers in another post. Basically what I use an alpha reader for is to see if the movie playing in my head is what’s playing in the reader’s head. If there are any discrepancies than those are the parts I rewrite…and I don’t touch anything else. I try to do it all as quickly as possible so I can move onto Rule #4.)
RULE #4: YOU MUST PUT YOUR STORY ON THE MARKET. (I write a cover letter and mail a story. Ultimately, I’d like to be able to mail at least one story a week, but I’m not quite there yet. Someday….)
RULE # 5: YOU MUST KEEP YOUR STORY ON THE MARKET UNTIL IT HAS SOLD. (A rejection notice is just a reminder to stick a story in a new envelope and mail it again. Come to think of it…acceptance letters are like that too, only you have to be a little more careful with copyright. If there are any hours left in the day, I try to spend them researching new markets, reading, and planning my next writing day by doing any research or outlining I need to do.)
Here’s how I keep track: I keep a spreadsheet of my word-count and hours spent writing. I try to touch on each of the steps if I have the luxury of a full day to write. If my time is limited than I just write as much new stuff as I can.
Heinlein’s Rules for New Writers
RULE #1: You must write.
RULE #2: You must finish what you write.
RULE #3: You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.
RULE #4: You must put your story on the market.
RULE # 5: You must keep your story on the market until it has sold.
The Lawn Mower
A young boy visiting his uncle was given the job of mowing his uncle’s front lawn. At first, the uncle was reluctant to teach the boy how to drive a riding lawn mower because he believed the boy was too young. The boy insisted that, at the ripe old age of ten, he had mowed his parent’s lawn many times and he was mature enough to handle a riding lawn mower.
The uncle eventually consented. He showed the boy how to use the riding lawn mower and set the boy to work on a large swath of grass on his front yard.
The boy, eager to prove himself, took to the job with enthusiasm. He cut the grass in long rows, starting at one end of his uncle’s massive lawn and zig-zagging to the other end. He drove carefully at first–avoiding rocks, and slowing down before turning the lawn mower. He gained confidence as he went along. Near the end of the project, the boy was able to drive at top speed with the blade all the way down.
As he entered the final pass, however, the boy heard the blade catch and buzz. The engine stalled. The boy felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He knew he had run over something. The ran up to the house to fetch his uncle who lumbered down to the riding lawn mower, got on his hands and knees, and reached under the stalled blade. The uncle felt around and then finally pulled out a stringy patch of fur covered with blood.
“Looks like a ground squirrel,” the uncle said. The only thing that remained was the tail.
The boy was mortified and for the rest of the summer, he could not be coaxed anywhere near the lawn mower.
Overheard in Dave & Busters parking lot
A drunk man stumbles into the parking lot outside Dave & Busters.
“Where’s the most spectacular place on Earth?” the drunk man says, addressing the half-dozen smokers crowded near the door.
“I don’t know,” one woman offers. “I mean, I’ve never been to Fresno…”
Overheard at Dave & Busters
“I don’t thing she’s gay, Lindsay.”
“I think I can turn her. Why do you think they’re called Lindsbians?”
319,000 words
Chuck Jones told would be artists to draw, explaining that “you’ve got a million bad drawings inside you and the sooner you get them out, the better”. Raymond Chandler is reputed to have told would be authors that they have a million words of crap to get out of their system. And in both cases there’s a lot of truth there — if only because it allows you to keep going despite your technical limitations and inability to get the words or the pen to do what you want, and eventually find yourself, well, competent. And some of the words and pictures you turn out on the way can be pretty good too. –Neil Gaiman’s Journal (22 October 2002)
I’m not sure where you’re supposed to start counting those million words so I decided to start my tally with the first short story I wrote in 2007; this was when I decided to get serious about fiction writing. It’s currently unpublished. (Not surprising, since it’s at the very beginning of the “million words of crap” category.)
I have written about 319,000 fiction words. If you want to include the my published journalism stories than that puts me at about 454,600 words, or almost half way. My thinking is that since fiction writing is what I want to do, than fiction writing is what I should count.
When I look back at my journey since 2007 I feel like I’ve learned so much, yet that number – 319,000 – is so small. I’m not even half way to where I want to be. But I’m excited about all the cool destinations I have yet to reach.
Time to start writing.
Last days at Goshen Scout Reservation, VA
Is there something in my teeth?
Chimney sweep dance…in a box.
This was one of Sean’s last days at camp Goshen.
Small-town Virginia
Lexington, Virginia
Many of you asked how much gasoline is over here. Gas is approaching $4 a gallon, but I haven’t seen a place yet that charges that much.
I have found the place I want to settle. It is a little town called Lexington. I got lost there when I was trying to find the Wal Mart. I stopped at a gas station to ask the mechanic for directions. The mechanic had a thick Appalachian accent and his fingernails were dirty from car grease, but it was the fact that his teeth were going every which way that sold me.
If Lexington were a person, it would be the freshman kid in high school who had older siblings who were seniors with cars and jobs. Lexington puffs up his chest and swings his arms to let the other freshmen know he’s “more mature” than them, but Lexington will never be cool enough to hang out with his older siblings, Staunton, Charlottesville and Richmond. With only 7,000 residents, Lexington will always be the baby of the family.
The town has a “historic downtown” and there are signs everywhere advertising its Natural Rockbridge, its civil war heritage and the house Stonewall Jackson grew up in. The locals in the post office all know each other by first names. They chat when they wait in line for stamps.
Sean and I went to see a movie at Lexington’s only cinema. Our ticket salesman had a birthmark on his face, as if someone had splattered purple paint across his right cheek. The cinema has three screens, and we were the only people in the entire place watching Kung Fu Panda on a Friday night.
After the movie, Sean and I went to the Wal Mart to buy some things he needed for camp. In the parking lot we spent about 10 minutes watching a man gathering all the shopping carts to take back to the store. He looked to be about 70 years old and was carrying an oxygen tank. He had to stop what he was doing every other minute to put the oxygen mask to his face.
I don’t mean to make Lexington sound like its in hick-ville Virginia, it is actually a cute little town. Half of the people have accents here, half of the people don’t. While some of the people have lived here their entire lives, many of them have lived out-of-state at one time or another. There is a theater company here. There are two colleges in town. The countryside is made up of forests and pastures separated by white picket fences. There are red barns that look just like drawings from kindergarten picture books.
Lexington is the perfect town to write a book in because there is nothing else to do. I’m currently looking for an apartment, a job and a car.