Naively optimistic (and hungry too)
Sat 2003-11-01 04:22:00 (in context)
- 1,151 words (if poetry, lines) long
- 0.00 hrs. revised
Did I say dawn? Silly me.
Yeah. I did. I said, "I'll start writing at midnight and keep going straight until dawn!" Uh-uh. No way. At least, not likely.
The first scene of the novel is coming along very slowly; this is for a number of reasons. One has to do with the usual difficulty I find in pulling an all-nighter. Another has to do with my madly optimistic plan to type it all in Dvorak. I keep remembering the title to Holly Lisle's article about switching from QWERTY to Dvorak: "With Fingers Struck Dumb" or something like that. I've been practicing a little over the past few weeks, but still it takes enough concentration that I get sleepier even quicker.
And then there's my usual block where after having thought and thought and thought about a story for weeks, actually writing-it-down is a daunting task. It's like there's no way the words I put on the page will ever convey the movie going on in my head. (Maybe I should be a screenwriter instead of a novelist.)
On top of all this, I'm raging hungry. This from staying up as late as I have. I'd cheer for it - nothing like uncomfortable sensations to keep you awake, right? - but generally when starving-hungry and dead-tired get into a fight in my body, dead-tired wins.
It's lovely outside. I took a walk to keep myself awake around 2:00 MT, and the frost all over Boulder is 1/4-inch thick in places. Leaves, grass, and pine needles feel like plastic doll furniture. We'll see how much of the ice has escaped melting when I wake up again...