I try to be fair.
The Tigger-slash-Mermaid who writes Considerings blog wrote an eXpository on her writing process, very different from mine, and asked me to do the same. I don't really have one, but I will gladly describe what happens because what does Misery love? Company.
This is her process, bee-tee-dubs, click HERE to read what a real writer does. Her blog is well-written, she gives good fiction and it's lovely and British-ey with extra "u"s in words likes colour and flavour. Love-r-ly!
Read below to see what a rookie who has no training, no patience, not much time, and no business writing does to get words on a page.
The questions are in bold, my answers are...what they are. Because of reasons.
1. What are you working on?
At any given time, I have about 87 blog drafts started, and not finished. Once I get interrupted, I either don't come back to the idea/inspiration for awhile or when I do, I lost my mojo and can't remember where I was going with it. Stella can't get her groove back. I can't for the life of me remember why this would be remotely interesting to anyone else.
I'll bet you thought I never think about that, didja? You should see the crapola that I don't post.
I do have one post I keep coming back to right now, it's for a guest post and I try to put actual effort into those. I know. There is one coming soon to Menopausal Mother, she's hilarious so I really need to step up my game. Stay tuned.
Good luck concentrating on work this week from the edge of your seat.
I imagine when this question was written it wasn't intended for me, but I'll try to answer it anyway. My writing is chock full o' slang, silliness, honesty, tangent stories whose tangents even go off on their own tangents....which is not to say other writers don't have those things, but I seem to really revel in it.
Meanwhile your real writers sprinkle their word soup with seasonings of:
I feel like you can get those things anywhere.
You can't even read about the gahtdamn circus workers who fell from their Human Chandelier in the circus this weekend without being assaulted by proper grammar.
The internet, well at least the libraries, are full of complete sentences. Know what they don't all have, though?
Crazy nicknames for everything
Words like "pajayjays"
Decades-old movie references
Cartoons pics and jokes
Specific advice on successful daydrinking
Impossible levels of imperfection, and yet somehow
Acceptance of self, weirdness and all
LOL'ing at people who put in actual effort
Something new and DIFFERENT
Stuff specially designed to manufacture smiles
3. Why do I write what I do?
I mostly crave adult interaction while I'm home with my kids. My little ones are adorable but they do not get me, or my 80's television catch phrases. It is adorable though when the 4 yr old delivers a well-timed,
"Whatchu talkin' bout Willis?"
I need something to focus on, distract myself with at times, and keep my mind on things besides how stinky my 2 yr old's feet are at any given time. Spoiler: In the summer? VERY. Any other time? Not at all, but she squeals with delight if you tell her that yes, they are stinky. Who am I to interfere with her happiness?
I tire quickly of most things on television, I abhor shiny magazines and their thinly veiled attempts to make me feel inadequate unless I:
Purchase the latest snake-oil to make me lose weight,
Spend money on the latest fashions, just because some designer came up with a new-shaped boot heel this season, or the newest shade of pink which absolutely MUST replace all of last-year's pink because it's "sooo last season,"
when meanwhile the clothing I already have is perfectly fine, whatever decade they were designed in;
Buy greatly overpriced products targeted at concerned parents, filled with fear from all the shiny magazine articles about the dangers of pesticides, GMOs and whatever else these new organic products are supposed to do to save our families from their total and swift demise.
I would rather spend time creating my own ridiculous content than fall prey to the complete bullshittery raping our eyeballs today.
|Right on. DON'T believe it. from en.wikipedia.org|
hahahahaha Oh, I guess you're serious. I don't really have a writing process, I'm trying very hard to write at least a little bit every day. To get in the habit, to see what comes out, to vent.
I don't post most of my venting, but somehow it helps to get it out, then go back and read just how ridiculous I sound with my irrational fears about my kids. This writing is usually not funny, not interesting or well-written. I may one day go back, spit-shine it up and share some of it, but it's intensely personal and the backstory is long, boring and painful at times to write.
I don't have a lot of free time for
finishing what I start
at the moment with my very young children. I imagine once they are of school age, I'll be looking for actual paying work, as our credit card debt is slowly mounting to terrifying levels each additional year of living on mostly one income.
Anyway, almost every morning, and every time I have a moment I either start a new post idea, or look back at old one. If I have enough time/energy/creativity/luck, I can polish up an old turd and make it post-worthy.
Once in awhile I get lucky and inspiration hits and I can sit down and type it all out at that EXACT moment. I may have to go back and edit out some ramblings and whatnot, but those are the times that are the best. When I can get it all down when it's fresh. There are only a few of those so far in existence. The rest are polished up turds.
Thanks for enduring that, here is a personal story I found hilarious from this weekend. This happened Saturday night.
Backstory: My son works at McDonald's and like any teenager, whatever job he has at that time is the HARDEST job on the planet, because "You just don't get it." In high school I was a waitress in an Illinois Bell training facility, but no, I don't in fact know the McStruggle.
They typically schedule him for 4-hour shifts about 4 days a week, which is harder than it sounds, because as I'm reminded, you have to deal with crazy people and you're on your feet THE WHOLE TIME.
On Saturday, I'm guessing people called off work with Saturday Night Fever and they asked my son to stay late, twice.
He wound up working a:
I heard him say those words
When he got home I asked him,
"So how was it? Do your feet hurt?"
"My feet are the least of my problems."
"So what are the most of your problems?"
Tinny: "My back is killing me, my legs, everything hurts. I just worked a 10-Hour Shift!"
Me: "You should take a hot bath with Epsom salt an----"
Tinny: "Yeah, I'm not doing that."
Me: "So, you're going straight to bed? I know you work again tomorrow morning."
Tinny: "No, I just worked a TEN HOUR SHIFT! I'm going out."
Ah, to be 18 again.
I, on the other hand, went straight to bed, exhausted after this conversation. I wanted to post this story to my Facebook page on my phone, but I was too tired to do that.
And I didn't even work a TEN HOUR SHIFT!
Funless fact: 2-3 times a week I put in an 18-hour "work" day, which in his opinion doesn't count as work because I'm home and I don't have to be on my feet. Not the whole time anyway. This is taken from an actual conversation we recently had, where I almost sprained my eyes from rolling them so much.
Then I heard him talking on his phone to his friends, I can never make out what he's saying, he's a bit of a mumbler, but I kept hearing him say,
"....TEN HOUR SHIFT!"
Welcome to the world of working for a living, son.
The moral of the story: Stay in school, kids.