I had a writing marathon yesterday, climbing my word count on my novel to 35500 words. Over seven thousand words in one day. It did help that the story is getting interesting and I haven't even gotten to the parts I want to write. Now, I'm back on track for NaNoWriMo, and Monday, November 25, I can validate, check my word count with theirs.
In one of my breaks though, I read an article about letting ego overtake your writing. Or I should say, not letting ego get the better of your writing. In the throws of writing furiously for my word count, I feel sometimes the writing is sub par or as the author of the article declared his writing as poor when he started, yet at the time, he thought it was brilliant. He found a critic, who punched him in the gut, so to speak and he improved.
I look back at my former goals, like desiring to write magazine articles to get my work in print. The glare of the public eye would give me insight into my writing, as I built my platform as recommended. Cec Murphy, a blogger suggested by one of the writers I follow, is writing a series on writing magazine articles to have published material. I feel lost when I read his blog the last few weeks because I had originally purposed to achieve that goal.
Life, though, threw some curve balls into my plans. I self published Summer Triangle because I wanted a piece of work out there. I can't afford writer's conferences, either the money to go or the time to take off work. I find myself yearning more for classes to improve.
I am not whining, or at least I'm now veering away from that vein. I hope to keep humble. I hope to improve always my writing. I hope to always continue writing. I should try to serve no wine before its time or piece. I do jump ahead of myself and get impatient.
I think of this blog as my magazine articles or writing a column for a newspaper. I set deadlines for myself. I practice my skill almost every day. But ego can blind myself as to whether I'm good or not. I guess I need the harsh critic to keep me on my toes. A harsh critic to tell me the truth. But not this month. I'll write dribble and revise later.
I write story, though, which makes me happy. I would love to make a living with writing and do it more than I do. I guess, like Frank Sinatra, I'll do it my way with God's help. I promise to be teachable, too.