Categories

Bits and Pieces

Chewing the Fat

When They Were Young

Reviews

Recipes

Archives

January 2012
December 2011
October 2011
September 2011
August 2011
July 2011
June 2011
May 2011
April 2011
March 2011
February 2011
January 2011
December 2010
November 2010
October 2010
September 2010
July 2010
June 2010
May 2010
April 2010
March 2010
February 2010
November 2009
October 2009
September 2009
July 2009
June 2009
January 2009
December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007

Complete Archives
Category Archives

RSS

writing

I spent the day writing.

You know, we’ve all heard about the authors who are able to whip out a complete manuscript in three weeks.  What I want to know is, how do they do it?  I mean, forget about writing anything good, or comprehensible, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.  What I want to know is how do they physically manage to type out all those words in such a short space of time.  I have been at my desk for eight hours, minus a one hour break, and I would consider today, a pretty successful writing day, as far as my writing days go.  It was slow, but I wrote 4 double spaced pages, which is one more than my required daily quota.

An adult fiction manuscript is a minimum of 200 pages.  That is the bare minimum, most are longer.  So, how do they do it?!

Don and I watched a biography of a well-known author and he would lock himself in a hotel room, and in three weeks would emerge with a completed manuscript in hand.  He was a multi New York Times bestseller.  Once he would finish a manuscript that would be it.  He wouldn’t rewrite.  It was done.  Finished. 

How could his fingers type out that many words, let alone, his brain must have been mush.  And his shoulders must have been one huge knot from being hunched over his typewriter pounding out those words.  I don’t even want to contemplate what his butt must have felt like after sitting for so many hours on end? 

I’m not jealous of the books he wrote, because it seemed, watching the documentary, that the pleasure for him was in the spending of the enormous amounts of money he made.  What I am envious of, is, can you imagine if one could write, what needed to come out, but to be able to do it in such an expedient fashion that there was still hours and days and weeks of free wheeling indulgence.  Sleeping in, cooking elaborate meals and eating them.  Long uninterrupted walks where the work wasn’t calling to you. 

You have something you want to explore, you sit down and three weeks later that itch is scratched.  It would be an interesting sensation, that’s for sure.