I have not been idle.
This last month I’ve booked thirty plus hours writing short stories, published over on my writing blog. Among them, additional apocalyptic scenarios and other stories meant for online competition, and still other random pieces. No, not idle.
But not decidedly dedicated toward any of my WIPs, either. As if I’m circling them, sword drawn, dagger ready, crouched and eager for their counterattack. “Just try it, you bunch.” “Ha!” they challenge, “You got this all wrong, buddy. It ain’t us that be needin’ the balls to do the attackin’.”
All too true. Those nodules have shrunk and pulled up inside like a prepubescent servant boy facing his first pour at the royal table.
“I’m still honing my skill. You wait ’till my blades are sharp… You just wait.”
“Bah! Slacker.”
When I went to calculate the number of hours for this post: 2287, I chanced a peek back to last year at this time, which stood at about 2100. So, one year and ~180 hours. Not too good. The year prior? The total stood at approximately 1800, calculated to 300 hours spent. Beyond this the numbers get fuzzy, but I’m guessin’ the count stood at 1000—the year before—which means that that year (August ’17 to August ’18) I booked 800 hours.
- Year #4: 180 hrs
- Year #3: 300 hrs
- Year #2: 800 hrs
- Year #1: 1000 hrs (I started this endeavor the summer of 2016.)
Not a good trend.
Now, in my defense, my work-a-day job had been vastly different back in the beginning. In the last two years, however, fewer daytime hours could be “donated” toward my writing process.
Additionally, I dare say that the quality of output has accelerated inversely, counter intuitively, to the number of hours applied. Fewer, yet closely attentive words? But, who is a writer to (accurately) judge their own work?
Regardless, my WIPs taunt me no end. They beg my attention. They deserve better.
Back to work.
(Slacker!)
Anonymole - apocryphal agitators 
Not like I needed any more guilt…
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I don’t believe I’ve read that collection—where can I find it? I’ve never actually thought about the hours I write about anything—considering what I make through writing, it would come out to less than minimum wage lol. Luckily, “I do it because I love it”, or something like that😉
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You’ve read a few. Looks like you found it.
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Yes!
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It’ll be interesting to see if future fiction incorporates social distancing and masks. I already find myself noticing when fictional characters don’t do that stuff. Weird.
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Read/reread “The Plague” by Camus to be really shook. I reread it a few months ago and it would describe people going out in crowds and such. All with bubonic plague. But there were so many similarities to today.
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Plagues have happened before. I guess this is the first big pandemic in 100 years, so seems like a new thing.
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“When everything old is new again. Yey!”
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What got me was the lack of social distancing and oozing buboes with no PPE 😷
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Yuck. At least Covid-19 doesn’t produce buboes.
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The only cure for oozing is ouzo.
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Do you post things to read or just your blog posts?
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As much fun as having Anonymole being my actual name would be, I’m afraid I go by a much more mundane nom de’ plume. It’s here if you’re curious.
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Oh I’m not trying to out anybody. I was just wondering if you put stuff out there for the world to read.
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No worries. I gave up keeping my netdonyms separate years ago. All the apocaporn is under my IRL.
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Oh see I’m using the Reader on my phone. I don’t see sites unless I check. I will check. Thanks
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I thought the Onion shut down was a joke in the form of a meme, but if not…it goes to prove…you can’t even make this shit up! And the faster I write, the faster this shit comes true. Beyond absurd out here.
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Hours don’t matter. I started in 2016. Must have been something in the water. Or the air. Oh, on point, what matters is can you sit down and nail it. Does it come out of your head and hit the screen where a two-pass in a day or two will make you happy. Not Grammarly or PWA, but you. All the bullshit since March, WIPS are a tough place to stay focused. Hours are the measure of nothing. There’s a joke about masterbating in that.
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I’d mark my progress by accolades, awards and publishing achievement but as of yet, they have eluded me. Zero, therefore, is my score?
Hours may not stand for much, however, they are representative of effort.
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And therein lies the joke. Accolades etc etc are useless if what you do doesn’t make you feel good just doing it. I heard this yoga teacher say, and this covers a lot of metaphorical and advice territory “We’re not trying to win yoga.”
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Score Zero, yet here I am, still striving. Still trying. I guess winning is not something I value either.
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We’re not trying to win writing. I mean I will never be a nitty Yankee Workshop wood worker but I felt pretty good the other day after hanging 4 wall cabs and two base cabs, all square and flush and lined up. Or when I built a stained cover for the new glass cook top or the pull out shelves without spending $80 a pop. Or building a killer grunge guitar sound in Kontakt that squeals and screams and makes me Van Halen in headphones. (on a keyboard controller). I’m not trying to win, I’m trying to be good enough, for myself, not feel like a half ass. Hell, I even managed to redial my infamous 1983 Harley idling patch on a Pro 1 clone. The silliest things will put smiles on our faces. It only sucks when we take them too seriously. I mean I write like I programmed synths, you know? Grab it by the face and rip it out if I have to. Because then you hold up the entrails of your production and enjoy them.
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All my life I’ve been the master of good enough. (smile)
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I don’t know how many hours I slept last night, let alone write.
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Everything is an ~.
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A writer is the first and most important person to judge his or her own work. If you thought my online output for the past couple of years has been largely silly, just imagine what it would have been like if I weren’t the type of person to labor over every single word regardless of the subject matter. I’ve always found your writing style solid, but what I think has improved drastically in recent months is the creativity involved in the crafting of your characters and scenarios.
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You know, I have that private copy of the compilation of Ningún Santuario… I’ve been hoping others would follow. Has Suzanne read that, you think? She came on the scene somewhat later, no?
Thanks ‘Mudge. I hope my progress sticks around for a while. Dementia is not your friend.
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I don’t recall whether Suzanne was following Spooky Action At A Distance when I was writing that story. That seems eons ago. I’m having trouble with fiction inspiration these days, especially non-comedic fiction. That, of course, has everything to do with a reality that is more ridiculous than anything I could conjure from my imagination. For instance, will political or legal thrillers ever have the ability to excite us again? Seems unlikely. I think the John Grishams of the world should be looking for another line of work.
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I heard The Onion is shutting down. Not due to the bug but because nothing they can come up with is half as ludicrous as current political and cultural reality.
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Now, that would be surreal. It appears they had to raise the bar to Alfred E Neuman levels, though. Of course, that won’t last but a week or two in this ludicrous environment.
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