I've been tending to avoid writing-related topics for my Random Thursday blog simply because so many of my scheduled topics involve writing in some way, but Alpennia Tuesday tends to focus on the specific content of my current writing so there are topics that don't fit as well there.
With every book project, I learn a certain set of things: techniques, processes, self-knowledge. I got myself through most of writing Daughter of Mystery by assuring myself that I was experimenting with a new approach to How To Write A Novel and that having the manuscript at the end of it would simply be a bonus. (It stopped being true about halfway in, but it was still a useful fiction.) The Mystic Marriage taught me--among other things--how to actually plan out the complex, braided plots I love, rather than seeing how they unfold as I go.
One of the things I'm learning from Mother of Souls confirms something I suspected all along--something that I agonized over a bit when deciding where to submit Daughter of Mystery. I'm learning that I get a little messed up around long-term deadlines. Now, I knew enough to include lots of padding when I set a delivery date for the manuscript. And I didn't set the date until I'd gotten into enough of a rhythm that I felt able to predict completion, at least on a rough plus/minus basis. And I have absolutely no doubts that I will deliver on time and with an acceptable level of polish to my own standards.
But having that deadline means that I'm never "on vacation". It means that even when I expect to make my chapter-a-week goal early (like this week), the temptation to shift to other projects for a couple of days gets overwhelmed by the desire to get a little ahead. (Or actually a little caught up, since my original goal was to have a first draft by the end of the calendar year.) And that gets wearing, you know? It's easier knowing that the closer I get to done, the more I'm going to feel that sense of not wanting to do anything else besides write. But I want the actual writing to be a joy, not a chore. And meeting long-term deadlines -- the sort where you have to organize and budget time over the course of months, not days -- are a bit of a chore for me. It's the reason I will take on certain types of volunteer commitments and avoid other types. (Or try to avoid them, at least.)
One of the things I agonized over when considering where to submit Daughter of Mystery was the expectation that success with a large mainstream publisher could mean feeling pressured into a multi-book deal that came with hard, solid long-term deadlines. (Ok, so maybe this wasn't a reasonable thing to worry about. There were other much more realistic things to worry about, like whether a mainstream publisher would be willing to touch a planned series focused on queer women. Or whether I'd spend years just trying to find an agent who believed in the series in the first place.) It wasn't the deciding factor, but it was there. And as I sit here thinking, "Argh, why didn't I wait until I had a first draft complete before submitting my official proposal?" I keep thinking, "It could be worse, you could have two or three deadlines lined up in a row."
There are a lot of factors in my long-term planning for the series (and for non-series projects). One of those is the desire to "create product" on a frequent enough schedule that people don't entirely forget about my work in between releases. That can be an issue even for authors who get substantial publicity support at release. I have a personal goal to release at least one book-length work every calendar year, which is tricky when working at my current length. More often than that would be even better, but it would mean writing at significantly shorter lengths. Fortunately the next two Alpennia projects are planned to be much shorter (probably half the length of my current door-stops) and the Skinsinger collection (which will almost certainly come out before Mother of Souls) only runs around 40K (as well as already being written!). So as long as I don't get ambitious, I can get a bit of a running start on my targets at that point.
In the mean time, my characters have to found a college, write and stage an opera, and solve a magical weather crisis. It sort of puts my little deadline problems in perspective, doesn't it?
With every book project, I learn a certain set of things: techniques, processes, self-knowledge. I got myself through most of writing Daughter of Mystery by assuring myself that I was experimenting with a new approach to How To Write A Novel and that having the manuscript at the end of it would simply be a bonus. (It stopped being true about halfway in, but it was still a useful fiction.) The Mystic Marriage taught me--among other things--how to actually plan out the complex, braided plots I love, rather than seeing how they unfold as I go.
One of the things I'm learning from Mother of Souls confirms something I suspected all along--something that I agonized over a bit when deciding where to submit Daughter of Mystery. I'm learning that I get a little messed up around long-term deadlines. Now, I knew enough to include lots of padding when I set a delivery date for the manuscript. And I didn't set the date until I'd gotten into enough of a rhythm that I felt able to predict completion, at least on a rough plus/minus basis. And I have absolutely no doubts that I will deliver on time and with an acceptable level of polish to my own standards.
But having that deadline means that I'm never "on vacation". It means that even when I expect to make my chapter-a-week goal early (like this week), the temptation to shift to other projects for a couple of days gets overwhelmed by the desire to get a little ahead. (Or actually a little caught up, since my original goal was to have a first draft by the end of the calendar year.) And that gets wearing, you know? It's easier knowing that the closer I get to done, the more I'm going to feel that sense of not wanting to do anything else besides write. But I want the actual writing to be a joy, not a chore. And meeting long-term deadlines -- the sort where you have to organize and budget time over the course of months, not days -- are a bit of a chore for me. It's the reason I will take on certain types of volunteer commitments and avoid other types. (Or try to avoid them, at least.)
One of the things I agonized over when considering where to submit Daughter of Mystery was the expectation that success with a large mainstream publisher could mean feeling pressured into a multi-book deal that came with hard, solid long-term deadlines. (Ok, so maybe this wasn't a reasonable thing to worry about. There were other much more realistic things to worry about, like whether a mainstream publisher would be willing to touch a planned series focused on queer women. Or whether I'd spend years just trying to find an agent who believed in the series in the first place.) It wasn't the deciding factor, but it was there. And as I sit here thinking, "Argh, why didn't I wait until I had a first draft complete before submitting my official proposal?" I keep thinking, "It could be worse, you could have two or three deadlines lined up in a row."
There are a lot of factors in my long-term planning for the series (and for non-series projects). One of those is the desire to "create product" on a frequent enough schedule that people don't entirely forget about my work in between releases. That can be an issue even for authors who get substantial publicity support at release. I have a personal goal to release at least one book-length work every calendar year, which is tricky when working at my current length. More often than that would be even better, but it would mean writing at significantly shorter lengths. Fortunately the next two Alpennia projects are planned to be much shorter (probably half the length of my current door-stops) and the Skinsinger collection (which will almost certainly come out before Mother of Souls) only runs around 40K (as well as already being written!). So as long as I don't get ambitious, I can get a bit of a running start on my targets at that point.
In the mean time, my characters have to found a college, write and stage an opera, and solve a magical weather crisis. It sort of puts my little deadline problems in perspective, doesn't it?