as a rule, when i miss a couple days in a row on the blog, it’s because things aren’t going so well. either i’m sick, or exhausted, or the writing is sucking more than usual and i feel too awful to blog “the writing is sucking more than usual,” or i’m having a touch of the BiPo Wobblies.
happy to report that the last two days are missing due to me KICKING THIS BOOK’S ASS. it’s still not done (JESUS LORD WILL IT EVER BE DONE) but the last couple days were real roses-on-the-page types.
even so, here’s what i didn’t know when i started to write a novel: it is excruciating, Dear Nonexistent Reader.
what i thought would only take me a few months (to expand an unfinished novella) has now stretched out to an entire year. never in my wildest nightmares did i think it would take me this long – NEVER – and yet (with the exception of a few completely fucked-off days) i know it would have been physically impossible for me to write harder. i mean, i’m sitting in this office 6 or 7 days a week (come to think of it, today makes 12 days in a row), anywhere from 4 to 10 hours a day. i am BUSTING. BALLS.
but faster, well – i could always write faster. that’s maybe my biggest regret as a writer, my goddamn pokiness, which accounts entirely for the ass-long amount of time it’s taking me to finish this book. granted, i know some folks take years, plural, to create their masterpieces, but i’ve got other shit to do, jack! i’ve been making slow (slow, slow, always so damned slow) progress on the other projects on my slate – the spec, the movie, the comic book – every day devoting little pockets of time – even 30 minutes – to my “side gigs,” while keeping my eyes on the prize:
FINISH THIS FUCKING BOOK, SMITH