Ex-literary agent and author Nathan Bransford dishes out some hard truths:
The thing people should really be worried about is whether they have the willpower to write a novel. That is the hard part. The setting aside of time, powering through when it stops being fun, and getting the whole thing written and edited.
I think I’ve said before that writing can be lonely at times. It’s just you and your words. You slaving over your story. You and your own thoughts that can easily morph into doubts. You don’t know if what you’re writing is any good, if anyone will ever get to read it, much less love it. And because of that, you’re hesitant about showing anyone your work. And then it becomes REALLY just you and your story. After a while (usually around the middle), your story starts to get tiresome, and you’re not sure if you should just give up on the whole endeavour.
But then you remember how immensely gratifying it had been to complete your previous stories. And you decide to push through.
|Aww thanks, Ryan!
So that’s where I am now, trying to keep up my flagging enthusiasm for Neverland, keep my eye on the finishing line, so to speak.
Thank goodness for little reprieves such as these:
This has to be one of the most hilarious interviews of McFly I’ve seen. Alan Carr + the boys = a total riot!
This one NEVER gets old. Some people say this is a terribly display of how spoiled First World kids are, but I think they were crying about the injustice of losing what they’d earned (how much trick-or-treating do you have to do to get two bags of candy?) more than they were crying about the candy itself (though, of course, they were crying about the candy too).
And this! Another classic: Dominic Monahan prank-interviews Elijah Wood.
I died laughing.
And to those who say Orlando Bloom is just a pretty face who can’t take the piss out of himself, check out this video:
Still love him. Once my Legolas/Will Turner, always my Legolas/Will Turner!
Oops. Those eyes though!
Sigh. Is it any wonder why the writing’s going slowly?
Anyway, remember Graffiti Moon, that wildly beautiful contemporary YA book by Cath Crowley that I raved about a while back? I only just discovered her blog (how did I only find it now?!) and OMG it might be one of my favourite blogs now, along with Laini Taylor, Nathan Bransford and Maggie Stiefvater’s. I mean, just look at these random gems Cath posts!
Some prose (click on the link for the full piece!):
Someone will offer you the last page of your life today. You won’t know it’s the last page. They won’t say and you won’t ask.
They’ll be waiting for you on a corner that you walk past every day. You’ll think maybe you recognise them. It’s something about the way they’re clicking the thumb and index finger of their left hand together when they speak – you do that all the time, you’ll think.
So you’ll take the page, they know you’ll take the page because you’re that kind of person. You say sorry when it’s not really a sorry kind of situation. You say sorry at least five hundred times a day. You counted once. It’s a habit. You don’t even know where you picked it up.
You’ll get a strange kind of feeling when you walk down the street. The sky, an uncut blue overhead and the mist coming out of your mouth like a ghost. At one stage you might get the idea that you can suck the cold air right back inside. You can’t, you’ll realise. Air that’s breathed is breathed for good.
The paper will stay in your pocket all day – maybe along with a couple of chocolate wrappers and a piece of gum you didn’t know what to do with because you couldn’t find a bin.
You’ll probably touch it a couple of times during the day – feel the corner when you talk to the one you want but spend most of the time looking at the air just to the left of their ears. Maybe you’ll touch it when your boss says you messed up and you believe him.
In the end you’ll take it out and read it on the train. You’ll be coming home like everyone else, watching the blur of lights out the window, the glass between you and the night, between you and the breath of stars.
You is my mad aching ship
My sad puzzled light
My honey ocean
My late night, impossible wish
I’m sure the grammatical choice (“is”) is there for a reason, but I don’t want to delve into literary criticism here.
And some more prose:
You’ll look up today. You’ll notice the sky. It might be streaky or blue or brushed with white buckled clouds but there will be a piece of it that seems exactly right. You might take a photograph so that you can remember.
You’ll think about the words that you love – maybe nova and opal and shadow and nest. Maybe flicker and frost, kismet or linger. Maybe bliss. Maybe kiss.
SO MUCH BEAUTY in her words. All that imagery! So tender and sweet it’s almost heart-breaking. I just want to hug those words…
MAD MAAAAAD LOVE! I wish I had her sensitivity for words. Graffiti Moon was gorrrrgeous. It’s just the kind of intense, bittersweet, funny, poignant contemporary YA romance centred around two characters looking for themselves and each other that I wish I had written. Or will someday be able to write with much much aplomb.
Speaking of pretty words, there’s something soothing about finding pretty art in the sinkhole that is Pinterest on a lovely blue-skied morning.
|Wolf painting by chantelyoung on Etsy
|a painting by Carson Ellis for Wildwood, a lovely MG book series by Colin Meloy
|Obviously, Quentin Blake.
|The Little Prince by Woo Hee Kwon
Okay okay okay. Enough procrastinating. I’m gone. Have a great week, everyone! :0)