book notes #7

I underestimated how drugged out and nauseous I would be from the surgery so I wasn't able to get as much work done on my book as I would have liked.  I thought I'd be able to get a lot done because I would be off work for a good seven days but I spent most of the time in bed and in pain.

But despite being dizzy and general feeling of grossness, I was able to complete the second part of my book.  Well, the majority of it.  The last chapter took me this past week to do, partly from my fractured concentration and partly because I just wasn't sure what I wanted to convey with that particular chapter.  But I was able to squeeze something out and so that's good.  I can always go back later and polish it up but I can't keep writing if I'm stuck on that one part so I'm glad I was able to finish it and now I can move on.

I have about twenty-something more chapters to go and the third part will be finished and the first draft of the entire book will be done.  Finally.  After working on it on and off (mostly off) for years now, it's finally looking like it's coming together.

Then, the rewriting and editing and rereading will start but I hope it won't be as time consuming as writing it all out from scratch.  With the material right there in front of me, I should be able to work at a faster pace.  I just have to make sure it makes sense, conveys what I'm trying to say, and is entertaining.  We'll see how it goes.

I have some concerns regarding my story, though.  As we all know, I'm long-winded and I feel it's going to be a long book.  I could cut some stuff out but I hesitate to do that because I want to present the full picture to the reader of how everything went down during my time at college.  I could shorten it and make it a bit easier to read but it might not be as enjoyable.  Then again, it might not be enjoyable to read a 500 page book, especially with people's short attention spans these days.

And what if I'm only good in short bursts?  There's only so much alliteration and whiny emo bullcrap one can take before it's not fun to read anymore.  I might be able to crank out a decent essay every once in a while but is my writing strong enough to carry an entire book?  I'm not so sure.

As much as I would love to be the next Amanda Hocking or J.A. Konrath, I'm not sure it'll happen for me.  I shouldn't expect as much, especially considering I've been here for three years and have a very small readership.  And so sometimes I think I should just write the book how I want to, as if I'm the only one who will read it, because it's quite likely that will be the case, and just use it as a cathartic tool to deal with the troubling times I had at college.  I hope that, if I can make a good book out of it, something creative and beautiful, it will help me cope because it's still a painful time for me to think about.

In fact, while writing the book, I had to relive a lot of memories and it forced me to examine my actions and behaviors and frequent outbursts and it's really embarrassing now to see how I fell apart so easily and how I still haven't fully recovered, even after all of these years.

I hope to be done with the third part in the next month or so.