All About the Writing

Get Outta That Chair

We’ve all heard the admonition to get our butt in the chair (BIC) in order to get our writing done. It's great advice, and I'm not going to suggest you don't do that.

Well, okay, I am going to suggest you don't do that. 

At least every once in a while. Let me demonstrate why Butt Outta Chair (BOC) is so important to your writing.

A large portion of writing is pondering, staring out the window, absorbing information around you. The urge to write is a desire to give your interpretation of the world in story form. In order to do that, you need to have some raw materials, and let's face it, the brain gets drained on a very frequent basis thanks to our everyday obligations. 

We need to refill and refuel our brain cells, and that can't be done with your butt in the chair. Unless you're writing about hemorrhoids, and seriously, good luck with getting that novel published. I probably won't be reading it, but I wish you all the luck in the world.

I don't listen to music very often when I'm at home. I prefer to hear the quiet, because that's when a lot of my crazy notions pop up, when I'm listening to the birds chirp outside, and the only other accompaniment is the fridge firing up to make sure my half-and-half stays cold.

I like to drive around, and I listen to music when I do. While I'm out giving my brain a little more room to breathe, I can focus on different lyrics from the random songs that come on. Honestly, it's like one particular phrase is highlighted in neon (well, the audio equivalent) and it slaps me until I pay attention. I've been inspired in this fashion so many times. 

One historical I wrote had some inspiration from a country song called All My Old Flames Have New Names, by Mark Chesnutt. In Every Maiden's Dream, my hero had just returned from a year-long spy mission in France, and now he's ready to resume several dalliances.  After hearing this song, I thought how fun it would be to have this hero in the same situation as in the song: to his dismay, he's been pretty much forgotten by the women of London, or they've married and moved on.   

This all happened because I took my brain out on a play date and let it soak up whatever was around.

So here's what I want you to do:  Get your butt OUT of your chair and go play. 

Have some fun. Look around. Listen to what people are saying in the coffee shop instead of doing your best to tune them out. Smell the flowers (if your allergies permit it). Have a life. Your characters do--and their life will be richer because you took the time to absorb new experiences.

However, if having fun, especially away from your writing chair, makes you feel guilty, then consider this an assignment, and half your grade for the semester will be based on it. We'll even find a way to get it put on your "permanent record".

Whatever it takes, incorporate BOC into your writing time.  Your butt will thank me for it.

Hope you enjoyed this reprint of some advice I need to be reminded of on occasion! I hope to have lots to tell you about the writers' retreat in Friday's post.

Reassuring the Reader

Today's Friday Fave link is a guest post from Alex Sokoloff on the Murderati blog.

Ms. Sokoloff gives a lot of great information about writing, and she usually references it to movies, which makes it a lot easier to grasp concepts. In this particular post, The Central Action of a Story, she mentions how she does a "read-and-discard" to find a book she wants to finish reading.  If she likes the first couple of chapters, she needs to know where the plot is headed if she's going to keep reading.

She says, "So much of storytelling is about you, the author, reassuring your reader or audience that you know what you’re doing, so they can relax and let you drive."

This requires a certain amount of trust between the author and the reader. If it's an author I've read before, we've already established a relationship of sorts, so there's a fairly high amount of trust involved. This means I can lean the seat back, and even unbuckle the seat belt, knowing we'll get where we're supposed to, and I'll be happy with her driving skills along the way.

With an author that I'm reading for the first time, it's a bit like taking a ride with someone who's just gotten their learner's permit. I'm debating if I really want to do this, nervously trying to figure out whether to take that leap of faith. 

I typically make up my mind after reading the back cover, the first line, and maybe even the first couple of pages. Even after going through this pre-drive checklist, I've still been disappointed on occasion, but so far there haven't been any fiery crashes, although a wheel has flown off once in a while.   

Still, the author is promising a certain kind of story in those first few chapters, and the reader has certain expectations, which hopefully are going to be met during what is essentially a cross-country road trip.

How often have you seen this movie blurb:  "Joe Schmo is a car thief/cat burglar/petty shoplifter who is ready to retire, but he is pulled into ONE. LAST. SCORE." 

Yeah, it's been done about a zillion times, but you never hear anybody say, "I've already seen that.  I don't want to see it again." Moviegoers like that scenario, so you'll see it get made a zillion times more. 

There is a certain expectation of where that plot will go, based on implicit promises made at the beginning, even if the viewer can't predict what will happen during the heist. But if all of a sudden zombies jumped out and devoured the protagonist's brains while he's cracking open a safe. . . well, the writer has pretty much lost their driving license, right?

Whenever I read a review of a book that has gotten a low ranking, it's generally because the reader feels it didn't live up to their expectations. This could be because of misleading back cover copy, or from a plot thread that was left dangling, or even unexplored. Readers like to be surprised, but not in a way that makes them feel foolish, or angry, for agreeing to let you drive them around in circles without a map for hours on end.

I highly recommend you read Ms. Sokoloff's entire post. She has really great information on having a PLAN that readers can, and will, follow during your thrilling car race of a story. 

Next thing you know, you'll be on readers' auto-buy list.

I originally posted this last summer, and since I'm enjoying a writers' retreat, with my agent and other writers, this seemed like good advice to re-read. I hope you enjoyed it.

Cleansing the Writing Palate

As I mentioned in last week's Friday Fave, revising can be hard on the writer's soul at times. Understandably so, since it basically requires dismantling all the stuff you just, well, mantled.

So while your manuscript is sitting on the floor, chopped up in pieces, along with the clumps of hair you've pulled out while fretting about putting it back together in the right order. . .

Maybe it's time to take a little break. A mental break. Before your mind breaks.

The best thing is to step away from the writing entirely. Take a walk or go people watch somewhere interesting. Or try to do something fun, even though I'm not sure I still know what that is.

Sometimes, though, that itch to write won't let you get away. (I know. I've tried.)

This is when it's a good idea to scribble down something else. Find a writing prompt that intrigues you. Let your mind wander through a succession of "What ifs" unrelated to your WIP. Drag out an older manuscript that got set aside and see what you had to say in there.

I wrote down a scene the other day that popped into my head. It had nothing to do with anything I was working on, and it was not connected to any of the other WIPs waiting (im)patiently for my attention. The characters were so clear, and quite insistent, so I furiously typed their scene and then stored it away. It's going to be enjoyable to revisit it one day.

Another day my mind kept coming back to a little snippet I'd written up on the blog last fall, when I posted a writing prompt for all of us involving a puppy and a ball. It started out as a way to cleanse my writing palate, and turned into a novella that I'm really quite fond of. It was a challenge to write something that short, and I most likely wouldn't have attempted it if I hadn't needed a little break from the other things on my worktable.

Sometimes while I'm wrestling with something, a blog post idea jumps to the front of my mind. That involves a different sort of writing, so my brain likes to play with this new set of words, and afterwards it feels ready to tackle the revisions again.

I don't think it's a bad thing to move around from writing project to writing project. I know there's a fear that nothing will get finished. But think of this as working different muscle groups. You don't want to have huge biceps and scrawny calves, right? So give all your creative muscles a thorough workout.

You're more likely to finish something if you're feeling refreshed and inspired. That's what the shorter, smaller bits of writing accomplish. Once you're done with those, then you can go back revived and raring to go on the original project.

I'm even following my own advice today. Now that I've finished this post, my muse is ready to go put the pieces together on that WIP I left scattered everywhere the other day.

I can't wait for you to see it.

How to Keep Revisions From Killing You

Writing is like driving in a convertible, with the top down on a gorgeously sunny day, singing along to the tunes blasting from the radio. 

Revising is creeping along in a snowstorm without snow tires, with visibility close to zero, knowing there's a thick layer of black ice that will send you spinning off into the ditch if you're not extra careful.

When I think about revising, I get nervous. I worry I'm going to rub the magic glow off my story when I think I'm polishing it to a high shine.

I do my best to avoid jumping into revisions right away. 

I prefer circling around, gathering my courage while I create a plan of attack. I start by analyzing each chapter to see if I accomplished what I wanted – and to see if things can be further developed or expanded. I almost always discover clues my pantser self left behind—something that blew out the window during the initial wild ride of drafting. It's like a treasure hunt, finding great little nuggets that make the story so much more than I'd hoped.

But I have to admit, revising has its terrifying moments, when it seems the more you fix, the less you accomplish. There's always that moment, like when you're packing to move an entire apartment, when you declare with supreme confidence, "There's not that much to do!" 

A couple hours later, you're on the floor, whimpering. How could you have been so delusional? There's actually fourteen times more to do than you estimated, because all the "clues" left behind during the writing phase have multiplied AND plot threads have tangled up into a big messy ball of confusion. 

Yes, at this point, it seems like your manuscript is sending you death threats, because the revising is determined to kill you.

So how do you get through those moments? 

The easiest thing, of course, is to give up, followed by whining, crying, and searching online to find a circus to join so you never have to hear the word "revision" again.

Since I know I'm not circus material, the best way to get through revisions is to make a workable plan. 

I prefer to think of this as a funnel, starting with the big stuff and working down to the smaller stuff. Kinda like going from "super-size" to "bite-size".

So if there's a scene that needs to be added, I do that first. It feels more like the glorious, freeform writing stage, which tricks my brain into thinking everything is going to be fun and games. It's like urging the family pet into the car to go to the vet, completely unaware it's coming back without its reproductive abilities. 

Once the big chunks are written and polished and inserted into their place in the manuscript, then I can go through and take care of specific trouble areas. These can be the "WTF?" questions asked by a beta reader or agent/editor, or they may be ones you notice yourself since you haven't read this masterpiece for a while.

It feels really good to check these off the To Do list, and it boosts your confidence to an incredible level. This is usually the stage when you think, "This revision is going so well, I'll have it done BEFORE my deadline". Remember this moment, because it's the last bit of happiness you will experience until you reach the very end of your journey. 

This is where the nitpicky detail work begins, and you'll feel like you are carving Mt. Rushmore with a dull butter knife. 

You'll be tired, and exhausted, and your brain will throw itself on the ground and have the most epic of temper tantrums, while you try to convince yourself the merciful thing to do is to just gloss over this part so you can stumble to the finish line.

But don't do that. Grit your teeth and keep putting one foot in the front of the other. 

~Go through your manuscript and rip out all those words you love so much that you play favorites with them, excluding other, stronger words. 

~Try not to create NEW favorite repeater words in the process. 

~See if you can replace a multitude of adverbs with more descriptive, concrete words. 

~Polish those opening and closing sentences in each chapter so that the book is unputdownable. 

~Use spellcheck one more time, and let the "Find" feature dredge up spacing mishaps.

Revising is delicate, detailed work. It requires patience, a steady hand, and tons of stamina. Once I realize it hasn't killed me, I take an amazed look at what I've accomplished. I'm thrilled at what a high-shine my manuscript has, holding my hand up to protect my corneas from such brilliance. 

Even better, I've learned so many new skills, the next revision process is a little more streamlined, as well as a little less menacing.

Since I'm in the midst of revising, I decided to rerun this post from last summer. Naturally I couldn't resist giving it a little nip and tuck first. Hope you enjoyed it.

Tattoos Aren't Just For Bad Boys

I have a new post up at Heroes and Heartbreakers, titled Tattooed Romance Heroes: Marked by Love.

Tattoos aren't just for bad boys. In fact, tattoos are a great way to show the hero's character, as well as the progression of the couple's relationship. So stop by and join the discussion. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

What I Actually Meant Was. . .

Most readers don't like plots that hinge on the characters being kept apart by "a big misunderstanding". The rationale is if the characters can clear everything up by having a conversation, then they should, so they can resolve the conflict between them.

However, I like when there are misinterpretations.

This is what happens when a character absorbs someone's words or deeds, filters them through their own emotional tender spots—and comes up with an erroneous conclusion.

It's as if the character's emotion decoder ring has gone wonky. The facts are there, clear as day, but the character's inner fears and conflicts skew the information, giving it a completely different meaning than was intended. 

This is a genuine source of conflict, even in real life.  

For example, you're waiting to hear back on an email, and you start to fret, assuming it never made it to its destination, because your emails always get lost, because the internet hates you. Or worse, maybe it did make it through, but you're sure it got instantly deleted because the recipient hates you, which you've always suspected, but now you know for sure since they're ignoring you.

So you write a scathing, snarky reply, blasting them for being so insensitive, or inept. You're hovering over the "Send" button, ready to click—and oh, what's this? Here's their reply! They're apologizing for taking so long to respond, but it turns out a rogue hurricane took out their internet connection, but they made sure you were the first one they emailed as soon as they were back online.

Whew! Crisis averted. But an emotionally misguided interpretation of those facts could have caused a huge disaster.

Right now I'm reading a book where the hero and heroine were in love ten years previously, but both of them misjudged each others' actions at the time. This caused them to break up, and they've carried around quite a bit of hurt because they could not understand why the person they loved had acted in such a heartless fashion.

Could it have been resolved with a simple conversation? Probably, but they were too immature at the time to realize that. What I like about this particular story is the hero and heroine have that conversation now, in the beginning of the book, so this conflict gets resolved early, allowing them to move on to other ones instead of letting a "misunderstanding" fester for 300+ pages.

What I enjoy is when the character finally discovers how their fears and insecurities made them misjudge things, especially about the person they now love. Working through their issues not only helps them grow and change, it rids them of the emotional filter that caused them to make erroneous assumptions in the first place.

It's as if that wonky decoder ring was recalibrated, giving the hero and heroine a clarity they needed, not only about themselves, but about everything they encounter in the future.

Anyone else a fan of misinterpretations in a story? What are your favorite ones? How were they resolved?

That Crazy Little Thing Called Creativity

I'm always thinking about how creativity works, and I wanted to share this post I originally wrote several months ago for the Romance Writer's Revenge. I hope you enjoy it.

There's a whole lot of magic, and faith, involved in any creative endeavor, especially writing. 

We show up with our tools, in this case, pen and paper, or keyboard and computer screen, along with the fervent desire to create something that doesn't yet exist. We chant the magic words, "What if?", and then we ponder and cogitate and dream, waiting for inspiration to slap us silly, convinced that brilliance is just around the corner.

Sometimes it's hard to hang on to that faith, though, because we don't really know HOW creativity works. When an idea bursts forth from deep within our brain cells, we act like cavewomen who have just seen fire for the first time.  We are understandably afraid to believe that "whatever this is" will come back, that it wasn't just some sort of fluke. If only someone would give us the recipe, so we can reproduce that creative miracle whenever we need it.  

What I love most about the creative process is this: it's a process. It's not called the creative schedule, or the creative checklist. It's a process, and we all have different ways of implementing it. It's about as personal as religion or politics or your favorite meatloaf recipe. Trying to force my process into a particular form would be the death knell of my creativity.

And yet. . .

I think we end up restricting our creative process all the time, without conscious intent. We conduct archaeological expeditions in the creative centers of our minds, eager to unearth fresh new ideas for our manuscripts. When our brain cooperates and coughs up all kinds of unusual nuggets, what do we do? Do we drop to our knees and thank every deity in existence for the beautiful gift of these wondrous ideas?

Yeah, not so much. 

We barely give them a glance before we toss them into the trash pile, judging them as "too out there". Before an idea has had a chance to fully form, or to show its depths and nuances, we shoot it dead, declaring, "That'll never work. It's just too crazy."

It's like wishing on a star and then smashing the gift on the ground with a whiny, "I wanted something with more SPARKLES!" Or praying for a miracle, and then refusing it on arrival, since it wasn't preceded by blaring trumpets and hosannas from wing'd angels. 

But let's go back to the idea that was instantly dismissed for being outlandish. This is the one you want to explore, because it's different, and fresh. 

Maybe it hasn't worked before now because no one will even consider it. It's possible this particular wacky idea might be better than anything you ever imagined. Even if you don't ending up using it, it might have appeared on the scene simply to help you stretch your imagination, to prepare you for other ideas you might otherwise ignore. 

So, when a notion looks like it's been wrapped in too many layers of crazy, deep fried in outrageous, and then topped off with a dollop of ridiculous. . .give the poor little nutjob a chance to explain itself. 

We all want recognition for what we do. Our craziest ideas are no different. If we don't give them an opportunity to speak their piece, they will continue to poke and nag, and the more we swat them away, the more persistent they will become--like a child ignored by its mom, chanting over and over, louder and louder, until it finally gets the attention it requested in the first place.

Maybe these kooky ideas won't lead to anything useful, but what if they do? Or maybe they're blocking the really brilliant idea, only you can't get to it until you've dealt with the seemingly zany stuff. 

This is where faith comes in, requiring you to believe in something when it's not entirely clear how it functions. The creative process is mysterious, there's no doubt about that. Yet if you're willing to believe that ideas for books appear out of nowhere, then you have to consider the possibility that these oddball ideas were entrusted to you, for your benefit.

As crazy as that sounds.

So tell us all the crazy ideas that have led to the stories you've written. Or tell us how your creative process works, and how it delivers ideas to you. Or share your favorite meatloaf recipe. Nothing is too crazy for us today!

No Wonder We Don't Write Letters Anymore

"[A] letter is like an email on paper, and paper is like a computer screen made of trees, for those who don’t know."

I've been giggling ever since I came across this line. I love how it acknowledges the transition we're facing with printed books and e-books, even if it is clearly leaning away from the printed books. But it's easy to imagine this conversation a few years ago, explaining to our parents and grandparents, about email: "It's like a letter, only on a computer screen."

The quote is from Craig Morgan Teicher, editor of PWxyz, a new blog from Publishers Weekly. It's a short piece about Saul Bellow's letters being published.  Not many people write letters anymore, and it's easy to understand why. Email is so much easier, and there's the whole instantaneous gratification aspect, which is probably what sold all of us on it initially. None of us like to wait. Nowadays even email takes too long when we have texting and tweeting as instant communication tools.

What I find really fascinating is how many people devoted themselves to writing letters WHEN IT WAS REALLY HARD TO PHYSICALLY DO IT. 

I mean, stone tablets? You'd spend half the day, at least, trying to find something small enough to carry around. And what do you use for whiteout when you make a typo, or I guess it's actually a carve-o? You had to plan ahead of time what you were gonna say, since it's not a medium that caters to pantsers. So where did you write down the stuff before you, well, carved it in stone?

Think what it must have been like to sharpen a quill every time you wanted to jot a note to a friend. You'd have to make sure you didn't slice off a fingertip or two. For one thing, there goes the penmanship, because clutching a quill in your fingerless fist isn't gonna make for the prettiest letters. And of course it's next to impossible to continue sharpening quills if you have no more digits. You would have plenty to write about to your friends though.      

Still, I wouldn't be very far into either one of these letter-writing processes before I would lay down my utensil and say, "Yea verily, and forsooth. I shalt just holla at my peeps when next we meet."

So it's even more amazing when you think about letters written by AUTHORS. I'm talking about authors who either wrote their books by hand, or on a typewriter that is slower than a manual can opener. I get all twitchy when one of the keys gets stuck on my laptop and I have to press, EXTRA HARD, to get it to actually cooperate. But what they did had to be excruciating. We're lucky to even have books from way back when, in the literary Pleistocene era. I wouldn't have blamed them if they had just given up and decided to write one-word neon signs instead. 

And on top of all that they wrote LETTERS.

Of course, maybe writing letters was the old-fashioned way of procrastinating, and "counting things as writing" that aren't really, even when we call them "research". Or maybe writing a letter was a warm-up, a way to get the words flowing when the author was stuck on a certain scene.  

However, I suspect letter writing was another form of art, and they knew these would be preserved, and appreciated, and analyzed, along with their books. So it was worth the time, and the effort, they devoted to it. 

Still, I'm glad I'm a writer now. I can document my words with technology that will probably make future generations giggle, but would cause past generations to gasp. Whatever challenges my laptop or the internet or other modern wizardry throw at me, it's still a wonderful way to write.

Plus I get to keep my fingertips.

____________________________________________________________________________

This is a repeat of a post I did last summer, and it's amazing how much technology has changed in that short time. What will it be like in another year's time?

Observing Humans in Their Natural Habitats

If you read my post on Monday, Multitasking Mambo, then you know I've got one or two projects on my plate. (And by one or two, I mean a zillion.) So while I'm getting those done, I'm re-running this post from last summer. Now that we're having some decent weather, I think it's a good reminder to get out and about and see what's out there in the world. Enjoy!

I've suggested before how it's necessary to leave your writer's haven in order to experience the outside world. We can't always just READ about the territory beyond our computer screen and keyboard. Sometimes we have to go out there and actually – gulp – interact with other human lifeforms.

Courage! You can do this.

All I'm suggesting is a field trip of an hour, two at the very most. You don't even have to take notes. Just absorb the atmosphere. Observe the gestures people use, and listen to the timbre of their voices. Can you tell the extent of their relationship by how they engage with each other? What emotions are they expressing? Or suppressing?

The point isn't to FIND anything in particular. It's to COLLECT, whether it's impressions, or ideas--basically any information worth hoarding. Indulge your brain's packrat tendencies, letting it pick up shiny bits it considers intriguing. You're like a pickpocket, lifting pieces of someone else's personality that might be useful to your writer self someday.

Later on, one of these little bits you've tucked away will crash into another one floating through your brain. You'll have an incendiary "Aha!" moment where you figure out a vital plot point for your story. Or all of a sudden you'll know exactly why your character does what he does in a particular scene.

I have had plenty of story ideas that fleshed themselves out after I've gone on one of these fact-gathering field trips. It's not a deliberate, "I need my story to have THIS element", or "My character WILL have this trait" kind of thing. It's a more organic process, almost a passive-aggressive one. I am essentially sitting in a room full of strangers, drinking coffee, while my brain is darting around, gorging itself on items it plans to re-gift me with later in the writing process.

Here are some things I witnessed on a recent sojourn to my favorite coffee locale:

1. Big burly guys, one right after another, purchased frilly frou-frou drinks. With whipped cream on top. Without a sheepish expression on their faces.
2. Several frilly frou-frou women, too many to count, got out of big-ass pickup trucks. They also had high heels on or they wouldn't have reached the ground when they stepped out.
3. A woman with a rockin' bod, short skirt, and sassy attitude, turned everyone's heads . . . and had a face that looked like it had been Photoshopped on from her grandma's driver's license.

Will any of these show up in a future story? Possibly. If they do, you'll be the first to recognize them. More likely they'll spark the idea fuse, and then when I least expect it, a riot of creativity will explode in my brain and I'll be racing to type everything into the laptop before the shower of fireworks completely disappears.

We encounter a lot of people on a daily basis, and they supply the raw material our imagination uses to create our stories. Every time we observe, and absorb, and investigate the world around us, we are adding to the other items we've deposited into our brains. It's a kind of mental compost, producing incredible stories from the leftover gestures, stray personality traits, and castoff emotions we've collected. 

So plan a visit to the outside world every once in a while, and watch the interactions and situations as they occur in real-time. Afterwards you can retreat to the safety of your writerly space, with plenty of examples of when you viewed humanoids in their natural habitat.

And lived to tell some amazing tales.

Multitasking Mambo

Right now I'm finishing a novella, and finalizing two posts for the Heroes and Heartbreakers blog, and I've got a WIP I want to finish drafting—no, make that two WIPS—as well as another manuscript I'm revising, now that I've outlined how to rewrite the second half of it. I'm also writing posts for this blog, and--

I'm in the midst of a ton of different writing projects and I couldn't be happier.

Okay, that's a lie. If Mr. Armitage were to walk in and show me the bill of sale for the publishing company he bought, just so he could publish all my manuscripts--well, the smile on my face would indeed brighten to an incandescent level.

But since that is not likely to happen. . .right away, I love having lots of different projects.

My brain is like a waiting room, filled with impatient people waiting for me to yell "Next!" so they can race to the counter and tell me their story. It's not easy to keep them in an orderly queue. They all think their tale is the most important one. But I enjoy their sense of urgency, and I really like having the ability to switch back and forth when they can't seem to answer, "So what happened next?"

Each project requires a slightly different skill set. The posts I do here burst into my brain while I'm tinkering with a fiction project, or when I'm taking a shower to refresh the brain cells after a scene has hit a roadblock. The posts for Heroes and Heartbreakers require me to use a slightly different analytical portion of my brain, since I discuss a certain thesis and use a variety of stories to illustrate that point.

Even my WIPs use different abilities. The novella is teaching me a lot about condensing my story to the real essentials, while my 95k-word manuscripts ensure I develop each scene to its maximum potential.

Since I never know exactly what will pop to the forefront of my mind, I just try to sit still and not doing anything that might scare it away. Often it's a scene that feels completely random, but then I realize it's the seed of another intriguing story. Or maybe it's a scene that shows the characters in a new light along with areas I need to explore. 

Sometimes I let the idea tumble around in my brain, without writing it down, to see where it's headed without me nudging it one direction or the other. It often blossoms on its own, plotting itself while I watch in amazement. Or it inspires a blog post on a topic I hadn't yet considered.

Moving from project to project like this keeps my brain excited and enthusiastic about writing. I don't have to spend time fretting about something not working the way I'd hoped. I can just move to something else.

This doesn't mean I never finish anything. In fact, as soon as I announce, "I'm outta here", the project that ceased cooperating instantly remembers what it wanted to tell me. I end up having multiple documents open to keep up with all the words flying at me from every direction.

It might sound a bit insane, doing things this way. But that may be why I like it so much.