Day Three: Uncle Orson's Literary Boot Camp (Writin' Day)

This is gonna be short, people. I'm fading fast.

Today, I started work on my story, got 3,000 words in (about twelve pages) before I decided that I didn't like it. I pulled the ripcord and started over with a totally different idea. I wrote another 2,700 words, which became the completed story we will be critiquing tomorrow. (All of us have stories. Mine is one of seventeen.) The first 3,000 words took me roughly seven hours, while the last 2,700 took me just over two. Improvement? Yes. Oh, yeah. And the story is better too. Not blast-you-across-the-room good, but good. I'm glad I had the guts to make the decision I made. WAY better stuff. But you guys can read my crap at some point too. It's not unamusing.

The big thing is, though, I wrote almost 6,000 words today. At 250 words a page, that's 24 pages. And that's a lot for fiction. If I remember right, Stephen King aims for 5,000 words in a day. Of course, those are his NORMAL wednesdays. But it was a lot for me. It stretched me. I'm better for it. I'm also typing with my eyes closed right now. I'm probably going to open them and find that my hands have been in the wrong place the whole time. Nope. Sweet.

Aside from the writing, there's little to report. (Mr. Card was not around today.) I keep meeting cool people. Artists who work on movies, doing everything from matte paintings to concept art. Account managers who aren't boring. Massage therapists whose talents I wasn't lucky enough to enjoy. A guy who SERIOUSLY looks exactly like a young Bruce Campbell. Oh, and Ken showed me some awesome parkour videos. Again, I peed. He's probably going to post db on a big parkour forum. Oh and Ed, the editor for IGMS, asked to see "She Who Lies in Secret." He warned me it's not a guarantee or anything, but it's worth a shot. So I'll be sending that off when I get home.

Beyond that, I've got nothing. Still having a great time. Still learning. Everybody has mellowed out. We aren't so concerned with proving to each other that we're the real thing anymore. We've accepted ourselves and each other a little more completely. And it's good. The level of "please think I'm cool" displayed on the first day would have killed me if I'd had to experience a week of it. Oh, and Ken showed me that my wrist pain probably has a lot to do with neck and back issues. So I'll be seeing a chiropractor as soon as I can. A good one, if I can manage it. The paragraphs in this post no longer have unified themes. No need to indent to say good-bye, I suppose. Good-bye.