Last night, I wrapped up the final pages of a screenplay assignment, which meant this morning I was free to get back to my own work, specifically Robinson Crusoe 2245. Going weeks (months) without the freedom of writing my own stuff was torturous, but we all gotta pay the bills. You’ve heard the saying, “Michael Bay gotta eat?” Well, two toddler tornadoes eat more. And throw even bigger tantrums. Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway), I’ve been a pain to be around. Not that I didn’t enjoy what I was working on (and who I was working for/with), but blank pages have been calling me and haunting my dreams. Forget yada, yada, yada. Here it’s been grouse, grouse, grouse.
I was in luck in one regard: I wasn’t starting from scratch. The outline has been long been done and I’d carved out a few chapters. Plus, as this is a sequel, I know the characters and milieu. Diving back in, I was surprised first by the temperature of the water. The first hour there was definitely some shrinkage. But as the clickty-clack grew in volume and speed, the movements became smoother. The ice broke and things started to flow.
Back when I wrote RC 2244 for Nanowrimo, I averaged something crazy like 2,755 words per day. While I would like to catch up to that pace, I’m less willing to go full commando and freewheel it. The writing is still rough, but the beats are there beneath the surface waiting for a pass or two to really come out. Today’s output fell just short of 1,500 words, but when I was done I had written a complete chapter.
In the next three weeks, I expect a big output. I won’t have specific deadlines other than “hours logged,” but my goal is to finish a (very) rough draft by the end of the month, and rewrite all of February. The goal of releasing book two in March is still realistic, but it’s back in the saddle time. Buckle up, peeps. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.