I hate making mistakes.
I hate having weaknesses.
And I know that the Lord gives us weaknesses, or allows us to have them, so that we can be humble, but I'm telling you right now, it's not working with me. I AM NOT HUMBLE!
I'm just pathetic.
So I got up this morning and went straight to the computer to see if I'd gotten any new reviews. I had. On Wattpad, a reader pointed out that I had gotten the psychology of my story completely wrong. Once she'd pointed it out, I could see exactly where she was right and I was wrong. I am absolutely devastated, and angry with myself for ever thinking I could pull it off. I should have known I didn't have the skills, and probably never will. I might be good with grammar and spelling, but I have a huge weakness in the emotional department. My first reaction is to erase everything about the story and pretend it never happened, to cover up this huge mistake. How can I continue to let people read it, knowing that it's wrong? Knowing that it's stupid? Theoretically, I know I hve some readers who won't care and who'll want to read to the end, to see what happens, but ... I just don't know.
I hate making mistakes. I hate having weaknesses. And I know that the Lord gives us weaknesses, or allows us to have them, so that we can be humble, but I'm telling you right now, it's not working with me. I AM NOT HUMBLE! I'm just pathetic.
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Okay, the bad news is that while I was working on the story that I had intended to submit to Mindflights, I suddenly realized I had a big problem -- the kind of huge problem that completely negates the entire storyline. And I don't know how to fix it. I'm not sure it can be fixed.
*tears hair, remaining three strands fall out* The good news, on the other hand, is that I am getting lots and lots of hits on the Wattpad version of Very, Very Carefully. And the delightful ladies at C19 have been giving me lots of excellent comments and praise. I will go to bed to-night purring like a cat. *beams happily -- bald, but happy* Just another day on the roller coaster of life. Well, I've started posting my new fanfic on C19, and on Wattpad, too, despite my misgivings about that site. I suppose it's time for me to stop being coy and actually tell you something about the story so you can decide if you want to read it or not. It's based on a British television series called Strike Back, and you can click on the official website here. Richard Armitage plays SAS soldier John Porter. The summary of my story is: After John Porter is raped while rescuing a female hostage, he and the woman get together to help each other recover.
Yeah, I said rape, but I didn't describe it explicitly. I didn't describe it at all, in fact, although I do refer to it many times later in the story. In the beginning, I only wanted to write a hurt/comfort story with John Porter, like the old Obi-Wan hurt/comfort stories I wrote back in my Star Wars days over at TheForce.net. A bit of torture, a few broken bones, something like that. I didn't want to write about rape, especially not male rape. But no matter what I tried to brainstorm, the idea kept coming back again and again, and finally, I decided to see what I could do with it. If I didn't like it, I didn't have to show it to anybody, I could just delete it and nobody would ever know. Or so I told myself. I did a bit of research, and asked a nurse friend from C19 for some thoughts, too. Then I started to write, and I felt like I couldn't stop. I'd think about it at night while trying to fall asleep, then I'd wake up and start thinking about it the next morning, and little bits and pieces would always be in my mind throughout the day. The resulting story is not meant to be a step-by-step description of recovery from rape. I've shown a few scenes and written a few descriptions so that the reader will know that recovery is taking place, but that's all. I've tried to keep everything kind of vague and non-explicit, not only the details, but also the timeline, because I just don't know how long it would take to recover from something like that, both physically and mentally. It's probably not the best story I've ever written (that would be The Dragon of Throxenby, I think) but it's certainly one of the most challenging. I might not have mastered it perfectly -- in fact, I'm sure I didn't. I worry a lot that I never get the psychology of my characters right, because I'm not really good with emotions and emotional reactions. But I think I did my best with the skills that I have. I'm pleased to report that I'm getting more feedback on C19 than I did with The Loneliness of the Once-Distant Agent, though I suppose that might be due to the novelty of the subject matter. And I've gotten more hits on Wattpad than I expected, though slightly fewer comments. Considering their target audience of romance-lovin' teenaged girls, however, I am neither surprised or displeased at that. In other news, I told my husband recently that if my headstone reflected my real life, it would end up reading something like this: She wasn't the best mother or the best wife, and let's not even talk about her housekeeping skills, or her diet, but dang, she wrote some good stuff. Okay, so that last bit was perhaps wish-fulfilment, but a girl can dream, right? Anyway, Husband laughed and said that I really was a good mother. He never reads any fiction if he can help it, so he wouldn't know about my good writing, but at least he knows I love my family, so I must be doing something right. And I guess that's a good a place to end this blog as any. Normal 0 21 I can't believe it. I've actually finished my fanfic. There I was, writing briskly along, and suddenly I was at the point where I could write "the end" at the bottom. I won't say I've written the last word, though, because I'm already thinking about what I can edit and improve. Yesterday, for instance, while typing along the final stretch, I also stopped to re-write the very first scene.
It seems like I've been riding on a high-speed train that has suddenly screeched to a halt, and I'm looking around and wondering, "Hang on, are we there already? I thought it would take longer." Word count at this exact moment in time: 22 385. Julie Coulter Bellon wrote a post on her blog yesterday about the "Tell and Sell," which is about describing your novel in three ways: in one word, in one sentence, and in thirty seconds. I've been thinking about this all night, and she's right, it's really harder than it looks! My one-word description might be "recovery." I tried "hurt/comfort" but I know that's really two words, even if they are written together. And I've gotten stuck on the one sentence part, too. I need a description of the story for when I start posting it on C19, but it's turning out to be quite difficult to give a teaser without revealing the entire plot. I've been wondering about posting the fic on Wattpad. My initial enthusiasm for that site has waned considerably ever since I found out that their target demographic is teenage girls. But there are a few Richard Armitage fans there, and a few people who appreciate good writing, so I'll probably post it there. I won't be expecting many hits or comments, though. (Or on C19, either, come to think of it.) I also think it will take a day or two for the fanfic dust to settle in my brain and clear the way for me to get back to the story I originally planned to write and submit to Mindflights. I'm still not sure about the ending for this one. I can't see a happy ending, or even one that's very positive, and although I haven't yet read every story at Mindflights, the ones I have read have all ended on a mostly upbeat note. So maybe I won't fit in there, either. But I guess I should write the story first before "horrible-izing," as my mother calls it. The editing cells of my brain are raring to go again, so I'm back to work! So it's now official, FirstSon has just been diagnosed as having Asperger's Syndrome, apparently fulfilling six of the eight criterion used by this particular psychologist. And I can't help but wonder how many of those criterion I myself would fulfill.
I still haven't got back into the groove of doing all my goals each day. SecondSon is not reading the translation as diligently as I had hoped, which doesn't exactly inspire me to continue. And the weather's been wet, so I'm not tempted to walk as much, either. On the other hand, my fanfic is coming along very well, sometimes so well that I don't want to get up from my computer for anything. Even mealtimes can be an unwelcome interruption when I'm writing -- and for me, that's saying something! I might even be finished soon, and then I can get back to the story I want to submit to Mindflights. It's my birthday to-day. I am now firmly middle-aged. Very firm. So firm that I'll soon be officially old, probably before I know it. I remember on my twelfth birthday that my parents were amazed I'd managed to survive that long, what with all the climbing and other active things I did when I was a child.
How things have changed. *cough* Yes, well, anyway, I also wanted to report that I was a candy bar winner on Angie Lofthouse's Out of This World Adventure. Yay for Milky Way chocolate bars! Yay for chocolate in general! And a special yay for Angie, because when she remembered that I lived in Germany and it wasn't worth sending a Milky Way bar across the ocean, she gave me another prize instead. What a sweet, kind, thoughtful lady -- and a wonderful writer, too! *beams happily* I am finally recovered from that strange illness, but I'm still struggling to get back into my schedule of goals. You'd think that doing something daily (or almost daily) for three months would be enough to cement it firmly in your life, but apparently not. I'm pretty good with the creative writing each day, and I even got in three walks this week, but I only managed to translate on one day. Hmm. I was also quite pleased that I was able to sit down one evening and let the words flow on my original story -- until I reached a certain point. Then the words stopped, and I realized that I don't know the "how" or "why" which is so important to the ending. Days later, I'm still stumped. Back to the fanfic. Don't get me wrong, I love fanfic, and I can see that it's helping me become a better writer. But there's no money and precious little glory in it, so what's all that improvement for, anyway, if you can't use it somewhere "official?" I've just had the first page of my current draft of my Mindflights story critiqued by Ms. Shreditor on the blog of Julie Coulter Bellon. Like a cat, I am purring happily away about the positive feedback, that I have an intriguing start and clean text (why yes, I am one heck of a self-proofreader, and by golly, I am proud that I do not suffer from humility in that particular area at all, although that's just about the only area where I do feel strong and confident.) On the other hand, I also feel stupid that I never stopped to consider double-spacing my lines, making my entry about twice as long as it should have been. *hangs head* I've just got into the habit of writing so that I can copy and paste my fanfics straight onto the web. I must stop and think next time before I submit. What do they say, fools rush in without checking the submission guidelines? Or something like that.
Well, after more than two weeks of the strangest illness I've ever had, I think I'm getting back to normal now. Not fit, as I was explaining to my visiting teachers to-day, but normal for me. I call it the strangest illness because I don't know how else to classify it; it wasn't really a cold, or the flu, or bronchitis, or a virus (I went to the doctor and had a blood test.) But I felt distinctly under the weather and it took me a good long while to buck up again.
Now I have to get back into the rhythm of my goals again. I've kept on writing my fanfic as much as I could, but I haven't been walking like I should have, or translating. This fanfic is another strange thing -- the idea has grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, dragged me into its grotty cave, and forced me to write. I can't concentrate on anything else, the story goes around in my head during all my waking hours. I keep working on it, trying new scenes, polishing old ones, and yet I'm quite sure I won't get a big audience or much praise for it when it's finally finished. As it's a fanfic, I also won't be able to sell it anywhere for money, either, but despite the probable lack of reward, I just can't stop. I am holding out a faint hope that once I've completed the fanfic, I can get back to my original idea for the Mindflights story that has now wilted by the wayside. I was just thinking the other day how listening to audio books and audio productions has introduced me to several classic books that I never would have bothered with otherwise, or which might have scared me off if I'd tried them in their original form first. Thanks to BBC Radio Four Extra (which used to be the better-sounding BBC Radio 7), I have listened to productions of, among others, Dracula, Frankenstein, and most recently, Ben Hur. And more than a year ago, I also listened to Richard Armitage playing Robert Lovelace in a production of Clarissa on BBC Radio Four -- a book I never would have dreamed of reading (and probably never will even now.) His performance was, at least to my untrained ears, award-worthy, even if I didn't care for the story all that much. I wish he could do more audio work. But in the meantime, I will enjoy the work of others as I go about my housework with headphones in my ears, fixing lunch with a generous helping of various dramas. I came down with the flu last week and haven't been able to do any of my goals. Occasionally, I start thinking about my stories, but then my mind drifts off to something else and that's that. I haven't been this sick for a long time -- I only hope it doesn't go down into my lungs again. The last time it did, I had walking pneumonia for at least two months. Why they call it "walking" pneumonia, I will never know, because I spent most of that time on the couch and not strolling around in the fresh air. And speaking of couches, I hear mine calling me for yet another nap.
So it's official. I got an idea for a fanfic, and suddenly, it's taken over my brain. I can't stop thinking of it, I can't stop writing it. It goes around in my head when I'm trying to get to sleep at night, and when I wake up, it starts going around again. I've been writing more each day for the last week than I've written for, oh, I don't know.
And what happens? Yesterday, I had to stop typing because the muscles in the fingers of my left hand hurt so much that I could no longer hit the keys. I couldn't even move the mouse without pain. (I'm right handed but I use Leftie to control my mouse because I'm weird like that. Also, I can write and eat with my right hand while still doing computer stuff.) Anyway, I actually had to walk away from the computer because the temptation to keep typing was so strong. I went and read a book, but even turning the pages hurt. What with not being able to write, and now not being able to read in comfort, I felt deprived. |
Melanie Goldmund
I've written fanfic under the name Zelofheda, and some original fic under my real name. Archives
September 2019
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