Day 138

Many of you may know that writers are constantly doing character studies.  We are intrigued by people.  I think that is what makes us want to write.

I am constantly watching people, trying to figure them out from afar (sometimes, even from up close).  At restaurants I'm sitting in the corner booth by myself sometimes, watching people interact.  Coffee shops and bakeries are great for this.  At the mall, at the movie theaters, around the lake.  I am constantly taking small mental notes of how people interact and argue and talk and laugh and cry and smile and add it to this little repertoire of instances.

Facebook is a horrible tool for this.  Horrible not in the sense that its not useful; horrible in the sense that its too useful.  I feel like Facebook: taking advantage of the fact that people post personal information for all to see.  I'm not "stalking" random people, mind you.  Not strangers.  Just old friends.  The type of "friends" that are really just acquaintances but you got to meet once in a lecture or you're old acquaintances from high school.  I look at their walls, their photos and try to get a sense of where they are, what they've been doing with their lives since we last talked (which often is years).

One friend in particular has intrigued me since high school.  She is the epitome of perfection for most people.  She's gorgeous, she's smart, she's super nice, (and as a result, she's super popular), she's community service oriented, she's well-dressed but not slutty, she's Christian, and she seems to have a very high future waiting for her.  I look at her pictures and not only feel jealous at her easy beauty (there are just some people who are blessed with looks) but wonder if she is as perfect as she appears.  What does she struggle with?  What does she long for?  What makes her angry?  I've never seen her lose her composure or get frustrated with someone.  She's not even stuck-up or vain like you would expect.

Not to mention, how in the world do you get a person like this?

There has got to be something to her, but there is no reason that I would ever have to contact her.  There is no way for me to find out.  On top of that, most of her Facebook pictures are posted by other people; she doesn't spend much time on Facebook.  I glean information from the wealth of her friends who dote on her.

She epitomizes the ideal for me, but in my mind, I'm thinking, "There has got to be something wrong with her."  But no, even the large scar on her arm she got for a horseback riding incident can't even taint her beauty.

Is this weird?  Probably.  Somewhat stalkerish, I know.  My intrigue for her befuddles me sometimes too.  I think it is just because she is a character that I don't understand.  There are so many other people that I can watch and make assumptions about that have a large possibility of being true.  But for this one female acquaintance from high school, I have little assumptions I can make on good measure.

If you ever figure someone like this person out, let me know.

Day 127

Dear anonymous readers of the Internet,

I apologize for the two month absence.  It is horrid, to be sure.  Since I last posted, I've gotten laid off from my job and had a flurry of work-related drama.  Nothing much to tell, though it may one day work its way into a story.  However, I have been able to concentrate on my writing a bit since I've had more time to think.

I'm 25,000+ words into my story, and I'm worried about length.  One of my favorite adult fiction novels is 53,000 words, give or take, and that novel, while not terribly long, was long enough.  I've read longer children's literature, but I'm just wondering how closely should I watch my word count.

I guess, overall, it does not matter.  I just need to finish the draft.

Getting into the story, I'm realizing how much I need to flesh out my main character.  I find it interesting how of all the characters of my book, I have the smallest grasp on my main character.  She feels hollow to me at this point.  I understand that is probably because I need the most depth from her, but its just disappointing.

No one really understands the "work" of a writer.  I am blessed with a boyfriend who is trying to be understanding, though I know that he does not really understands but just simply gives me my space.  He makes a point to encourage me to write and to keep blocking out the times of my day to write, which is a blessing more magnificent than he knows.  I guess that is the best thing he can do is keep me accountable, because by myself, I am an utter basket case.

Having gotten "half-way" word-count-wise through my novel (although I am less than halfway through the plot), I am beginning to understand this daunting "work" set before me.  I know I have to edit this baby, and I am slightly looking forward to it while simultaneously quite fearful of the task, and I have to finish it first.  The whole idea of the thing is just frightening.  Haha.  My favorite adult fiction novel was rewritten 12 times before it was even sent to an editor.  TWELVE?!  Bah.  I'm doomed.

However, I am Day 127 into writing and 25,000 words and I wrote 4 pages today in 1 hour, which is encouraging to me.  The numbers encourage me.  The words do not, ironically enough.  Sometimes I feel like scrapping this entire thing and starting over.

Anyway, on to another day.  I have to finish this chapter so I can turn it in to my workshop partner by Wednesday.  I'm hoping to get it done before then so I can keep writing onward.

Cheers!