Writing is a magical thing. You take an idea from a dream, an inspiration, a feeling and turn it into an adventure, a mystery, something magical.
But as easily as the idea might come, it’s that much more difficult to turn into a story. As stated in a previous post, there’s a story I’ve been working on for over five years. It’s become an obsession and one I truly embrace. I can’t wait to get it published. But now, putting it all together, that’s almost harder than writing the damn thing itself.
Five years, 346 handwritten pages and many bits and pieces of fragmented ideas later and the first draft was done. But the few hundred or so pages, before I got my writing spree, are in what I like to call “writer’s point form.” There were complete sentences and it was written properly, but the ideas were so fragmented and the continuity was totally off. My writing was definitely much more evolved during my spree and so, the draft definitely had to be re-written before it could be read.
And that’s where the hardest part has come in. I’m typing the story out now, and adding in all the pieces that were missing from before. And it’s soooooo sloooooow. There are times I spend days on one chapter. ONE! Just putting all the missing pieces in and trying to make it make sense with the rest of the story. It feels like I’m getting nowhere. But I have to remind myself that I am making progress.
Usually, when something is typed from handwritten notes, it shrinks in size, simply because typed words are smaller. The number of pages goes down, even when double spaced. Unless there’s so much more to add, and that’s what’s happening to me.
A lot of my handwritten pages are missing so much detail and typing up this next draft is putting them all in. I’ve added at least ten pages and I’m not done yet. And it’s adding in all that information that’s taking up the time.
But in the end I know it will be worth it!! My story will be out there and it will truly be a thing I can be proud of. And if that means a lot of work now then so be it.
Writing, true writing, I feel, has become a lost art. And I want to be part of the art. I want to write something worthwhile that will have an impact on people, for years to come. I want to write something that they will think about, that gets them through hard times, that makes them question why things are the way they are.
Struggling now, to find the right words, to make the characters and places believable, to make actual real life magic happen, is worth the struggle. Sometimes, the writer just needs reminding of that.