The case of the missing flamingo

Yesterday I hit 70,000 words on the novel, which is good news indeed. I was aiming for a total word count of 70,000, but I ain't done yet. Three major scenes to tackle and then I get to type those magic words, THE END. I've somehow managed to stick to my personal goal of 1000 words a day to get this thing finished in November. A bit of discipline was just what the doctor ordered.

Lately I've become a little bit obsessed about something and I thought I might as well share it with you. When it comes to writing, I'm not a planner. I'm what's known as a pantser (lovely moniker). I fly by the seat of my pants, with little or no idea of what's going to happen next. It's an exciting way to write, because essentially you're in exactly the same position as the reader - hopefully on the edge of your seat.

But I find myself worrying about all the possible alternatives - the things I don't write. What if one of those gazillion other options would have been better than the one I chose. For instance, I wrote a scene where a couple of my characters went to a cafe and were served by a Portuguese waitress. The scene is perfectly adequate. But what if they'd entered the cafe, sat down and found themselves being served by a flamingo wearing a bowtie? Now that would have been interesting. The story could have gone down a whole different route. It could have touched on so many important issues, like the ridiculously low wages flamingos are being paid these days. Or maybe not.

OK, maybe that's not the best example. But you know what I mean, right? Are there an infinite number of alternative versions of the novel floating around out there somewhere? Where the characters argue, or run off without paying, or dance the Macarena, or kiss? Who's to say the version I've chosen to put down on paper is the right one - the best one?

Hmm. This is all a bit philosophical for a Tuesday. I'd better go and make a cup of tea.

A dangerous obsession

I remember the good old days. They were happy, carefree and full of candyfloss and toffee apples. *sighs wistfully* Ah, those were the days. I wish I could turn back the clock and appreciate each and every moment for what it was: pure freedom.

Of course, that was B.W.C.O. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? What?! YOU DON'T! Oh my. Before Word Count Obsession, of course.

Those heady days spent writing ENTANGLED, when I only looked at the word count when I'd finished writing for the day - and sometimes not even then. It just wasn't important to me. I didn't even think I'd reach the end of the novel, so word count was irrelevant. Such innocent times.

Alas, those days are long gone. Now my eyes are drawn to that number on the bottom of my word doc every couple of minutes. That number that refuses to rise as rapidly as I want it to. Every hundred words is noted...

Just... got... to.... reach... one thousand...

N.B. Imagine this in the manner of a certain cartoon character who always seemed to be talking to himself while struggling to climb a huge mountain. Here he is:

Lion-O! Thundercats! Hooooooooooooooo!

But I digress (yet still add to my word count, so who cares?!)... The point is that I wish I could free myself from Word Count Obsession. If only there was a cure. NaNoWriMo isn't exactly helping, even though I'm not participating. When you read on twitter that someone has written 1000 words in ten minutes, which happens to be the exact word count it's taken you all day to achieve, it's somewhat grrrrrrr-making to say the least.

Please tell me I'm not alone. Perhaps we could form some kind of support group.



Two posts in one day? 'That's not possible!' I hear you cry

20,000 words. Tra la la! And some of them are quite good ones. Oh happy day! I'm going to treat myself to... a cup of tea.

Er... I don't really have anything else to say right now. Just wanted to share my mini-milestone. 20,000 words hopefully = just under a third of a book. Aiming for about 70,000 words on this project I think, but that could change. Those naughty characters of mine aren't acting the way I expected them to. Tsk tsk.