What have I been doing lately instead of blogging? Mostly trying to survive NaNoWriMo without going into total physical collapse. It seems to be more draining every year, and I suppose one of these years I’m just going to have to pass. So why am I blogging elsewhere if I’m so darn tired? And it isn’t really blogging. More like letting off steam in short bursts. I have to do something to keep from going crazy from the stress of writing a novel in 30 days. So I created a Google+ Collection. Offbeat Notes on Writing Fiction will be my place to dump rants, notices of interesting stuff on the net, remarks about books, and my trademark weird approaches to writing. Right now, I’m popping in there two or three times a day with short bits, but I’m sure that will sometimes drop to zero or less.
Elsewhere — I’m crocheting a scarf, for no better reason than I found an 8 oz. skein of “Country Rose” yarn at a thrift store. I haven’t crocheted in years, but it’s coming back, and it will help get me away from the computer and my Kindle.
Tis the time of year for making resolutions for next year. I don’t make resolutions, but it’s a good time to make a list of things I would like to accomplish. At the top of the list, of course, is: finish writing and/or editing/revising several WIPs and get them published. Way off on the horizon of possibilities is a vague idea about expanding my little horror story, The Darkest Prison, into a novella. Urban fantasy? That might work.
The other one on that horizon and really too ridiculous to take seriously, is writing a romance. Go ahead and laugh. Until I decided to research the danged things, I’d only read once romance, that I can recall. Now I’ve read two more, and it was a pretty sorry experience. Made much worse by both books having been written by best-selling authors. I don’t know whether the critical standards are really lower than for any other genre, but trying to find examples that I can learn from has been a fairly nauseating experience. It may also have something to do with my total disinterest in the concept of romance and being absolutely appalled at what women will supposedly do to get that all-important man into their lives.
I’ve probably insulted every reader of romances, so it’s time to quit.
NOTE: Unless it’s just a Mac thing, the theme I’m using makes it impossible to see links in my posts. I’d appreciate someone commenting on that. Offbeat Notes on Writing Fiction is a link.