Paranoid

So, what’s the deal? I’ve read in the past week or so that writing in first person narration is incredibly difficult and most of those who try, flub it up. One misstep and the whole thing crumbles and the reader sees past the curtain you’ve created for your fictionalization. Either that or you bore them to death with the monotony.

Cripes. Have you ever tried NOT writing this way? I find I get incredibly boring if I don’t write in the first person. I guess all my multiple personalities have finally found their purpose.

Yeesh, should I changed my pants because I’ve crapped in them, or should I just pat my huge ego and believe that I am an ‘advanced’ writer who has managed to pull it off?

BTW, I only have 24 more pages to skim for comparison. And I took a Tylenol AND made myself a mocha.

Torture

I am procrastinating. I am 190 pages into 240. I am trying to put more comparisons in here and there to ‘add to the mystique’ or whatever on my manuscript. (Don’t even think of reminding me that I have three more manuscripts that will need the Lukeman Overhaul once I’m done with this one. Oh god, I think I’m going to throw myself off the roof of my house. Maybe while I’m up there I can replace the shingles that blew off in the night before last’s windstorm. (What the hell is with these shingles anyway? These aren’t the first to blow off.) I think I am starting to feel a little burned out about the comparison thing. Plus, I am starting to hate the book. I want to slice everything. Maybe it is the constant headache from this sinus infection that just won’t die!

So, do I go make myself a mocha? Move on to the style exercises in Lukeman’s book? (I get to do dialogue after that! YAY! That will be fun, I think.) Keep plugging at freaking comparisons? Maybe I should go take a Tylenol and go have a nap. I only have about another hour’s peace before the whirlwind wakes up from her nap, then all bets are off on doing any of the above.

Damn, I wish this cat would get off my arm. He’s just so cute though. Except for the poop problem.

This is just too disgusting to not tell…especially since I am procrastinating. So anyway, this morning I was on the phone and I saw what I thought was a dried leaf from a nearby plant on the floor. Bent over and picked it up before realizing that dead leaves do NOT squish! Ew, ew, ew.

If you are asking: yes, yes it was.

Instead of doing all of the above, I am going to go bleach my fingers–again.

The First Five Pages: Style

Style is something I’ve never given much thought to. Most of the clothes I purchase because they are affordable, comfortable and hopefully at least mildly flattering. As for home decor, well, it is surprising how well all our given-to-us furniture goes together. Add a few pieces from Ikea’s As Is section, and we have a home!

Oh right, writing. Yep, haven’t consciously thought about style there either. Okay, well, maybe. But not as ‘style’. More like the feel or tone or my voice or the main character’s voice and how that all fits and flows to make the story compelling.

I was reading an article last night about mood. Hadn’t really thought about that too much either. Not consciously at least. Wow. Talk about hard.

Ever tried to consciously define style or mood? Ugh. Not so easy. Ever looked at your own work and tried to definitively put your finger on the exact mood or style of the piece? chapter? paragraph? sentence? word?

Kill me now. For me, it feels as daunting and impossible as trying to pull one particle of water out of a moving river. (Hey, look at me using comparison!)