Ever since I discovered that the deadline for the Dark Faith anthology was at the end of this month and not at the end of March, I've been working on the story every night. Unfortunately, as mentioned in a previous post, my writing discipline hasn't been good lately, so though I'm better at sitting down to write, my trouble now is staying focused.
I'm currently working on the characters. I tend to come up with plot ideas first rather than characters. Actually, I feel like I'm really weak in characterization skills (looks hopefully at fellow Prosers in case one of them might make a post with great character development tips).
I couldn't think of a picture appropriate for this topic, so instead,
please enjoy this photo I took of baby shorebirds snuggling in their nest.
Anyway, it's been a while since I've started a new story, and though I'd like to think that my writing has improved over the past year, I still have those stereotypical writer's self-confidence issues. By Monday, I'd reached Level 2 in the Five Stages of Writer Insecurity:
1) I never have any good ideas
2) I have an idea, but it sucks, and it will never become a story
3) I have a first draft, but I hate it, and it will never become a final draft
4) I have a final draft, and it's terrible, and no critiquer will ever like it
5) My critiquers didn't hate the story, but they found 100 million flaws and I'll never be able to fix the story and no one will ever publish it.
I wrote the following on Monday night:
"Mind you, those are just the deepest parts of the valley. Trouble is, it takes a lot of effort to get out of those valleys, and when I'm down there, it seems like I'll never get out again. I invariably move on – a few months ago, I was sure I'd never, ever be able to come up with the faintest idea for this anthology (stage 1). But boy, is it ever dark down here right now."
The whole thing is a little silly. By Tuesday night, I was out of the valley and coming up with ideas faster than I could type. Anyway, now it's Thursday night, and I'm still planning, going in 100 different directions at once. But the self-doubt is still seething around down there. I wish I could make it go away completely, but until I figure that out, I'll have to take the same route I did on Monday night.
-Drink lots of tea
-Pet the cat
-Keep writing, no matter how hopeless I feel.