Thursday – Realized I had made a commitment to write in front of the whole world. Hyperventilated and broke out in a cold sweat. Can I keep my commitment? Went to the book sale to ease my nerves. Became overwhelmed by the sheer number of “discarded” books. Overheard scathing remarks about books and even the authors. Do people assume they know the author through their work? It’s true, writers do pour a bit of their personalities into their work. Should people assume they know the writer by their fiction? How does this realization reflect on my own writing?
Friday - Came up with an idea for the story. Actually got the idea from reading one of the many blogs that I keep up with. Think it’s a good idea but wonder if I can manipulate it and write it so that the message will affect people the same way it affected me when I first read it. The challenge lies in evoking that kind of emotional response from the reader.
Saturday – Dissected the idea while I cleaned house. Is it good enough for the publication that I’ve selected? Does the idea “fit” with their publication expectations? Can I see my story in this publication? Yes. Can I write it on the same level as past stories that have appeared in the publication? I’m not sure. My writing style tends to lean more direct interaction between characters: dialogue, events. Am I capable of writing descriptive prose? I’m certainly willing to give it a shot.
Sunday – Convinced myself that my idea stank. Who would want to read about it? Has it been done before? I’m convinced that it has been. Will the publication get past the first line? What will they think? “Been there, done that. Who does this woman think she is, Elizabeth Berg?” I imagine cruel laughing and a slow-motion toss of my manuscript on a pile labeled REJECT in big, bold, red letters.
Monday – Too busy to think about my story. I spent the day updating the eight websites I’m responsible for while answering emails and plotting summer activities for the kids. Made the mistake of visiting my deadline web page - 173 days to go. Instantly felt guilty for not having made any progress.