I’ve not written a thing since the last update. I intended to, but first I decided to do some reading. I decided it might be good to go back and work on one of my previous manuscripts some more, and so I started going through the last two novels I wrote, starting with the one I thought was my best work, written two years ago. I immediately saw it could still use some work.
About that time I discovered there is a writers workshop sporting some big names coming soon to a mountaintop near me–and it’s affordable. It’s also by audition only, which also makes things interesting. I’m debating whether I can spare the time and money, but in the meantime I decided to see if my more recent manuscript might be better to submit, as the application requires the first 1500 words of a work you’d like to workshop. So I pulled up my more recent manuscript, “The Merchant Prince” (still the functional, borrowed title), and began reading to see if the opening was any better.
It was. I’m still reading. I’m both encouraged and dismayed by what I’m seeing. I’m encouraged that I’m enjoying it. I’m finding several scenes delight me. I’ve even laughed at some of my own jokes. It’s not only not as bad as I remember, but it’s actually fairly good!
I’m dismayed, however, that I wrote that over a year ago, and I’ve been unable to write anything decent since. I read what I wrote then and have to question whether or not I can even write that way anymore. What happened? Did I over-think things? Did I try to change too much too quickly and only succeed in making my writing both too deliberate and no longer enjoyable? I’ve been about to give up writing for several months now, only to find that I used to be much better than I am now. That hurts.
Granted, I’m reading in the part of the story I never really had a problem with. It’s the last half of the novel I’m not so sure about. The plot gets a little…wonky…for lack of a better term. I’ve had some ideas how to straighten it out, but I’ve been too busy with other projects to work on it. Now I’m thinking I’d better finish reading it with my year’s distance before I do anything that drastic. Perhaps it’s not as wonky as I remember.
It’s a little bizarre reading something you’ve written long enough after you’ve written it that the story is familiar but the details are new and fresh. It’s surreal–and a little Pygmalion-esque–to find myself admiring my own writing. But it’s also encouragement at a time I most need it.
I would love to read your work!! Let me know when things are available!!