rough

last night i kicked off something new. something bigger than i've ever taken on before. and despite all my pep talks, planning and reading up on the subject, nothing could've prepared me for the feeling of losing myself in a fantasy on paper.

though writing pure fiction is uncharted territory for me, it stands to reason i could do it. i have the tools: imagination, vocabulary, super-speedy typing fingers, and time. but unlike writing a blog or a journal or even a fictionalized memoir disguising as a short story, fiction feels reckless. as though i'm telling a lie and uh oh, am i going to remember what i said?

that being said, i got started last night and while it displaced my blogging time, i fearfully put the first 1700 words on the pages of my novel. first spewing the half-formed ideas that i'd been building for the past couple of weeks and then watching words and characters and plots appear that i'd never imagined or seen coming.

when i saved the document and closed my laptop for bed last night i was worried. worried i'd written nothing worth saving. worried i'd gotten the voice or the tense wrong. worried that it was too much narrative. worried that i was going to run out of ideas. worried that i wouldn't remember the ideas i've already had. worried i'm in over my head. worried i've signed a check i can't cash.

and then when i woke up this morning, as i brushed my teeth, i remembered something i wrote. it surprised me. i liked it. then i recalled something else that appeared on the screen last night and again was pleasantly surprised.

i may be fantastic, but my fantasy isn't so far flung that i believe every word i draft will be fit for posterity, and so today when i settle into my writing pod i will give myself permission to be reckless. to be surprised. to be disappointed. to be rough.

after all, it is a rough draft.

d: less worry, more rough.
b: i hit my quota, right on time. write on.
g: pleasant surprises.