Sometimes I wonder why I keep writing this blog even though I rarely (ever) have anything substantial to add to the (lack of) progress in the writing process for the various literary works in progress. Despite my discipline and (uncanny) ability to actually!write something for this blog on a weekly basis within a (usually) short span of time, the words that are written and posted here rarely have anything to do with the aforementioned works in progress. Ideas buzz about in my head, various storylines, snippets of exposition, conversation and inner monologue, yet they remain stored in the mainframe that is my brain, though sometimes the aforementioned are random and absurd and probably should remain untold (perhaps they’ll resurface as bonus features in the far off future).
For those following this blog (are there any?), most of what will be written here is not so new – I’m sure I’ve expressed these thoughts, musings and doubts (many times) in previous entries. Sometimes I wish I could apply the same discipline I have for writing for this blog to the actual!writing of my works in progress. (I can almost hear the retort of “Yes, you should stop complaining and actually apply that discipline to the actual!writing process” – I know of one fellow aspiring writer who would say this to me, though probably with saltier language and sarcastic emojis).
If only I had a TARDIS (and a sonic screwdriver) to find the time (and energy) to really!focus on plotting, pondering and actually!writing. Things in the Land of Exposition are hectic and unstable, as the fallout from the Real Life Brigade implosion resulted in tiny yet substantial aftershocks – the pollen is floating in the air, mingling with the omnipresent bacon aroma, creating minor tectonic shifts from all the sneezing. The clean-up has been exhausting, coordinating the meager resources to contain the multiple inquiries, projects and other things that pop up unexpectedly. Most of the Muses have departed from the Land of Exposition, citing reasons to recharge, reflect and recover; the plot bunnies keep bouncing about, attempting to make sense of what has happened. The Character Development Inn remains nearly empty, even though its cupboards have been restocked with an array of interesting foodstuffs.
As much of the time has been spent reorganizing, regrouping and resting from the efforts to get things back to normal (or whatever passes as normal these days), not much time has been spent on the finer nuances of the MASC Chronicles, Carpe Noctem or the Tales from the Land of Exposition. The ideas are there (the interesting, the meh and the absurd) yet the urge (and the energy) to organize them in a coherent fashion is lacking (at the moment).
Or in other words, I’m literally exhausted from Real Life to write. Yes, this will most likely sound like an excuse (and to be honest, at times it probably is) – it’s a flimsy excuse for my lack of progress while other writers are able to crank out stories (of varying lengths). Logically, I shouldn’t compare the speed of my progress (which is currently at a glacial pace) to anyone else’s (whether they’re trotting along at a brisk pace or speeding down the highway), but it’s kinda human nature to compare oneself to others.
Everyone moves at a different pace, and everyone has different circumstances in their lives that impact on their ability to plot, ponder and actually!write.
Of course, I could have used the time I spent writing this entry to go actually!write (or plot and ponder) the aforementioned works in progress.
Then again, if I did that, then this entry wouldn’t exist, and I’d be behind in the weekly updates writing about how there’s a lack of progress in the writing process.
Brief aside – I’m feeling optimistic about the new companion, and curious about the direction Doctor Who will take in the next series/season (though I wish we didn’t have to wait until next year). On the other hand, Game of Thrones started its new season with interesting twists and turns – now that the TV show has caught up (for the moment at least) with the book series, everyone is on an even playing field – no one (aside from author George R.R. Martin, and the TV showrunners) knows what will happen next.
Enough blathering here (again) – off to plot and ponder.