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I just had Kinkos print two copies of my manuscript
Holding it in my hand makes it seem so much more real than seeing it on a screen or holding in a memory stick.
Back in April I started writing this thing. Before that I'd started it a few times only ever writing a few pages and then abandoning it. Before that, years before, in fact, I'd been writing it in my head while showering, walking the dog, riding my bike, washing the dishes, watching the kids. I kept seeing scenes and memories of my past and feeling like I should write about them but I was always too scared. What if I started and it turned out I had absolutely nothing to say? In April I kind of had this break through (well, actually it was more of a break down) where I realized that if I didn't start writing it (or start writing something) I probably never would and I'd always regret it.
At first the writing was a little difficult. I could sit and write for maybe an hour or two, at the most. If I tried to write the next day I just couldn't so I'd give myself a couple days off and then write again. I slowly moved along like that until I could write more in one sitting than before and eventually I could write in consecutive days. It felt like getting back into shape after not having exercised for fourteen years.
I'm really amazed at how quickly the writing finally came. I really enjoyed writing this first draft. There were days when all I could do was smile because I was actually writing again and I looked forward to getting the kids in bed so that I could sit down and get to it again.
I have never written anything even remotely this long before. At times I'm just kind of flabbergasted that I even did it at all. When the kid behind the counter handed my my two boxes filled with paper and words I couldn't help smiling as I took them and walked out to my car where I opened a box and pulled out a ream of paper filled with my words. I have a lot of work in front of me in terms of revisions but for right now I'm just so incredibly happy. A little over three months ago I sat on my bed crying because I thought I'd never write or paint or make music again. Now I'm sitting with the first draft of my book.
Back in April I started writing this thing. Before that I'd started it a few times only ever writing a few pages and then abandoning it. Before that, years before, in fact, I'd been writing it in my head while showering, walking the dog, riding my bike, washing the dishes, watching the kids. I kept seeing scenes and memories of my past and feeling like I should write about them but I was always too scared. What if I started and it turned out I had absolutely nothing to say? In April I kind of had this break through (well, actually it was more of a break down) where I realized that if I didn't start writing it (or start writing something) I probably never would and I'd always regret it.
At first the writing was a little difficult. I could sit and write for maybe an hour or two, at the most. If I tried to write the next day I just couldn't so I'd give myself a couple days off and then write again. I slowly moved along like that until I could write more in one sitting than before and eventually I could write in consecutive days. It felt like getting back into shape after not having exercised for fourteen years.
I'm really amazed at how quickly the writing finally came. I really enjoyed writing this first draft. There were days when all I could do was smile because I was actually writing again and I looked forward to getting the kids in bed so that I could sit down and get to it again.
I have never written anything even remotely this long before. At times I'm just kind of flabbergasted that I even did it at all. When the kid behind the counter handed my my two boxes filled with paper and words I couldn't help smiling as I took them and walked out to my car where I opened a box and pulled out a ream of paper filled with my words. I have a lot of work in front of me in terms of revisions but for right now I'm just so incredibly happy. A little over three months ago I sat on my bed crying because I thought I'd never write or paint or make music again. Now I'm sitting with the first draft of my book.