Once again, I’ve blown my self-imposed schedule for posting on Thursday nights… and once again, I hope that you’ll find my reasons justifiable. For good measure I have two of them: 1) I’ve wrapped up the first draft of a work in progress I’ve been working on under another name and 2) I started working Tuesday night on my next erotic short story project.
With a working title of Another True Story of a Middle Class Sugardaddy, it has the same basic premise of the original, but follows the story of one particular sugarbaby from beginning to end, rather than presenting multiple featurettes. So far, about 1200 words in, the story feels like a winner. I’m glad I took the time away to work on something else, because I think it let me come back to this as a stronger writer. I’m certainly feeling like a more productive writer if nothing else. I’ve been blessed these last few nights with the words almost effortlessly flowing onto the page.
So, now you know that while I might not have been giving this page the attention it deserves, plenty of ideas were percolating. The juices never stopped flowing. And now I’m right back in the mix for a new story. I hope I’m coming up with something for you that will prove to be worth the wait.
Now that I’m being pulled in one less direction every night, I’ll get back on schedule (theoretically) with posting here and letting you know how things are shaping up. Stay tuned. I think you’re going to be pleased with how this turns out.
I took some time this weekend to check in on the “business” side of my little writing empire. If I’m honest, what I saw wasn’t pretty. In fact February 2013 was the worst sales month I’ve had in over two years. I’m not going to lie, that kind of dinged my pride a bit.
I’ve never sold hundreds or thousands of units a month, but for the better part of the last two years I’ve bumped along selling between 60-100 ebooks month in and month out. To see sales plunge to less than 30 units was a gut punch.
As I continue to plug away, I mostly try to keep in mind that I was writing long before I had the bright idea that someone might actually buy my work. It seems likely that I’ll still be writing long after the self-publishing craze has passed too. In the meantime, if this little endeavor pays for a meal and a few drinks every month, I should consider myself lucky because I’m still doing far better than most who ever set pen to paper.
This whole process is still a hell of a lot of fun, whether I’m getting paid for it or not. Now and then it’s nice to be reminded that I’m writing “for the love of the game,” not for any kind of prospective pay day. It’s a hard lesson, but one worth learning.
I’m plugging away, but haven’t put the finishing touch to the current first draft work in progress. I’m optimistic that I’ll have the draft ready to set aside this weekend. That’s the current goal, anyway. That will free me up to start on whatever comes next.
“What’s next” feels like the regular theme around here. I’m never quite finished with the current project before I’m thinking about chasing the next one. That’s probably a good thing in this line of endeavor. It doesn’t lead to a lot of down time, but down time isn’t exactly kind to the writer. Getting into the habit of being “down,” is far easier than getting into the habit of being “on.” It’s probably better for me if I keep writing – about anything really – until my brain forces me to stop. It’ll do that soon enough anyway. Eventually I just hit a spot where it screams “this far, but no further.”
I’m not there yet. In fact I don’t feel tired at all. Harried, a little lost, not quite in control of my days or nights are all things I’m feeling, but I’m not tired of writing. As usual, I just wish there was more time to do it. Since I live in the real world with everyone else, I’ll try to be satisfied with carving away whatever time I can and making the most of it.
I’ve cleared a few hurdles over the past week. My current work in progress is moving along towards what feels like it’s natural ending. I should have the first draft wrapped up by the weekend assuming there are no extenuating circumstances. Of course they always seem to crop up whenever I get to this point of the process.
Happily my thoughts are slowly turning towards getting back to what I do best. I know I’m going to want to let the current story percolate for a while before starting in on it with my editor’s pen, but since I’ve built up a good head of steam, I don’t want to just sit idle and let the good writing mojo go to waste. Basically that means it’s time to get back to erotic fiction. I’m still mulling around some ideas, I haven’t decided if I’ll branch out into new territory or if I’ll be part of a series, and I don’t have any earthly idea what direction it will take, but I know there’s another story in there fighting for life.
It’s a surprisingly good feeling… and if I’m completely honest it will feel even better to get back to the kind of words that people don’t use in polite company.
So it occurs to me that I once again missed my regular Thursday post. It wasn’t intentional, but it was in service of a good cause. I was on a roll churning out words for my current work in progress and that felt like something I should ride out to wherever it stopped instead of arbitrarily changing gears and putting on my “blogger” hat.
Like most aspirational writers, I’m still plugging away… Plugging away in spite of never seeming to have the time, in spite of plummeting sales, in spite of weekly views that have fallen through the floor, in spite of every external influence that’s saying all of this is a terrible idea and a waste of time. All of those factors would make a rational person reconsider how they are spending their free time. Of course anyone who’s trying to make a go of writing is probably not completely rational. So there’s that.
I’ll do my best to wrench myself back onto a regular scheduled in the week ahead, but as usual there are no promises. It’s going to take me another week, maybe two to wrap up the first draft. Who knows, maybe then I can take a breath and stop being such a neglectful blogger.
There’s no better way to sap the inspiration out of someone’s soul than to have them spend hours doing their taxes. Really, I think using that time to repeatedly slam my hand in the car door would have been more productive and less painful. It’s a necessary evil since I want to avoid doing my writing from some nice cushy federal prison somewhere, but that only makes it tolerable, not really any better.
What I did next, though, that was totally self inflicted. Why I thought after a morning of tax preperation that it was a good idea to call the bank and talk about refinancing a mortgage is purely beyond me. Perhaps I’m more of a glutton for punishment than I realized.
It’s safe to assume that no matter what that damned fool Pressfield says about resistance, there’s no writing happening here today. That time on the schedule is being allocated to drinking. Heavily.
I’m a bad, bad blogger. I admit it, in the excitement of watching the yard fill up with snow and then the horrific realization that I was going to have to shovel my way through it just to get to the car, I completely forgot that I had a blog. Never mind that that it actually was overdue for an update. We ended up with just over a foot of the white stuff here in my part of the Mid-Atlantic. Whoever “they” are, they’re saying we’ll add a few inches today just to pile insult on injury. That injury part isn’t semantic. I have the back of a writer, not of a professional shoveler. The slow, labored movement and inability to really get comfortable will attest to that.
What’s any of this have to do with a blog about writing, fiction, or erotica? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m keeping up with my daily word-count goals and legitimately sitting down to write every day, so it feels like progress even if some of what comes of it is pure rubbish. The whole exercise feels vaguely more real when I make a concerted effort to work on it every day no matter what nature throws at me as a distractor. Soon enough, keeping up with the outside of this place will be a giant time thief, so I’m trying to remember to enjoy the cold weather and even the snow that keeps me inside and lets me work.