The last month or so has been dedicated to the creation of short stories, something that I am new at. I have found that the shorter the story is the harder it is to complete. 3500 words equals one to two chapters in my world. Loquacious-ness should be one of the deadliest diseases, in the writing community. My first attempt was a piece for my local RWA chapter, no more that 5000 words. HA
I was forced to start from scratch four times. In the end, I had my contribution but I also had three others (ranging form 11,000 – 6,000 words). On top of those unneeded babies, I could see a whole new world, just waiting to be explored, within my RWA short. I envisioned at least seven full length novels, and any number of back-stories. I was drowning in ideas.
Each time I finished one of my short story attempts, I counted up the astronomical wordage, and held my baby close. I told myself that I needed to keep each and every word, that I could sacrifice nothing. Again and again, I tried. And again and again, I created something that I loved.
This time around, I managed to shake off some of that … lets call it overwhelming love instead of insanity. But the truth was plain to see. I wanted to be apart of this world, but felt that I had started so late in life that I needed to do everything at once. That included short stories, and contests, and novels, and … there are a million opportunities, when you allow your mind to have a voice of its own. Poetry, ghost writing, ads and copywriting … And as is my predilection, I dove in head first. Forget the swallow end, I aimed for the shark infested ocean. Why learn from others when you can make it up as you go along. This is a fault of mine, but knowing that it exists doesn’t seem to affect my actions.
On a positive note … I learned from my first foray. This time around I collected my un-sacrifice-able words, and placed them in there own land of out-takes. There they will live out the remainder of their days in blissful ignorance that they will never see the light of the published world. (unless I find the perfect place for them to shine) I also learned how to move the story along at a faster pace, how to turn my back on flourish. (Blogs do not count, so I will ramble all I want :P) I learned how to hold back my need to explain with details that only I needed to know. *Remember everyone, don’t give it all away. That is the road to loneliness and heartache
In the past month, I have managed to create and edit three short stories. All but one has been sent out into the contest-void, cut off from home but hopefully shining. If/when they return, I hope that they have managed to make someone’s day a little better, if nothing else.
happy wordage, Tracey