The Novel Diary: Week 8
Word counts: 5,644 (Chapter 2); 18,274 (total).
Eight ninety-three. That’s how many words I wrote tonight — a new nightly record for my novel endeavor. Insane, but such are my productive powers when I turn off my MacBook’s AirPort.
That’s right, boys and girls: after a pathetic effort the last two weeks, I decided to sever the all-distracting connection to the World Wide Web between eight and ten o’clock, preventing myself from following the infinite number of sidetracks coaxing my train of thought. No more e-mail, news, or tender trips down memory lane via YouTube. I can do all that during the other 22 hours of the day. From now on, eight to ten in the PM is strictly reserved for novel writing.
Needless to say, there have been noticeable results. Last night I put down about 525 — and I did not even write for the full two hours. Frankly, I got a little stir-crazy and decided to let myself off the hook. I did so again tonight, though I quit with about 15 minutes left; I was very satisfied with how much I put down. I want to ease into the new routine so I don’t fry myself. Toward the end of my time tonight, I got to the point where I felt I was writing just to fill the time. Of course, some of that material may be useful later. As I said, it is eerie how the creative train of thought is still chugging along even when you do not suspect it. But I don’t like writing for the sake of writing. What I wrote was propulsive, but it felt forced so I decided to stop for the night.
After mining our giant collection of unlabled VHS tapes this weekend, I found episodes of a show I liked in junior high. It was a show about junior high when I was in junior high, so it struck an obvious cord. (I don’t want to go too in depth because I plan to write about it later.) Right now, it is striking an obvious cord with my odd nostalgia for the post-grunge years of 1995, ’96, and ’97, and each episode amazes me not only by the blast of memories they provide, but by the complete lack of any kind of modern gadgetry. No iPods, no cell phones, no [insert whatever other distracting gizmo you can think of]. There are mentions of the “Net” and “Web” (because that’s what everyone called it back then), but the world the show takes place in is one that does not revolve around constant connectivity and corporate manufactured distractions. Of course, it’s just a TV show — an invented world with forced situations — but it is based on a former reality I find both refreshing and hard to imagine.
The Internet has become so vital (seemingly) in our everyday lives that I often wonder what life was like without it. My parents bought our first computer in September 1993 but did not get a modem until December 1995. (A 14,400 bps external modem was one of my Christmas presents.) What did I do on the computer before having home access to the Internet? I drew, played Vette! and Where in the USA is Carmen Sandiego?, and wrote.
Eight ninety-three. That’s how many words I wrote tonight — a new nightly record for my novel endeavor. Insane, but such are my productive powers when I turn off my MacBook’s AirPort.
That’s right, boys and girls: after a pathetic effort the last two weeks, I decided to sever the all-distracting connection to the World Wide Web between eight and ten o’clock, preventing myself from following the infinite number of sidetracks coaxing my train of thought. No more e-mail, news, or tender trips down memory lane via YouTube. I can do all that during the other 22 hours of the day. From now on, eight to ten in the PM is strictly reserved for novel writing.
Needless to say, there have been noticeable results. Last night I put down about 525 — and I did not even write for the full two hours. Frankly, I got a little stir-crazy and decided to let myself off the hook. I did so again tonight, though I quit with about 15 minutes left; I was very satisfied with how much I put down. I want to ease into the new routine so I don’t fry myself. Toward the end of my time tonight, I got to the point where I felt I was writing just to fill the time. Of course, some of that material may be useful later. As I said, it is eerie how the creative train of thought is still chugging along even when you do not suspect it. But I don’t like writing for the sake of writing. What I wrote was propulsive, but it felt forced so I decided to stop for the night.
After mining our giant collection of unlabled VHS tapes this weekend, I found episodes of a show I liked in junior high. It was a show about junior high when I was in junior high, so it struck an obvious cord. (I don’t want to go too in depth because I plan to write about it later.) Right now, it is striking an obvious cord with my odd nostalgia for the post-grunge years of 1995, ’96, and ’97, and each episode amazes me not only by the blast of memories they provide, but by the complete lack of any kind of modern gadgetry. No iPods, no cell phones, no [insert whatever other distracting gizmo you can think of]. There are mentions of the “Net” and “Web” (because that’s what everyone called it back then), but the world the show takes place in is one that does not revolve around constant connectivity and corporate manufactured distractions. Of course, it’s just a TV show — an invented world with forced situations — but it is based on a former reality I find both refreshing and hard to imagine.
The Internet has become so vital (seemingly) in our everyday lives that I often wonder what life was like without it. My parents bought our first computer in September 1993 but did not get a modem until December 1995. (A 14,400 bps external modem was one of my Christmas presents.) What did I do on the computer before having home access to the Internet? I drew, played Vette! and Where in the USA is Carmen Sandiego?, and wrote.
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