It's been a while since I started the 365 Challenge, wherein I write a piece of fiction or poetry for each day of the year. You will note on the challenge page that longer works of fiction/poetry count as multiple pieces. This was to preserve my sanity and keep life realistic.
Then I got a job. At first that was too hectic and crazy to write at all. Then there was the story from inferno, a short that went long and is now threatening book status. The muse and I are in negotiations. Then there were seven or so finished stories that I marked "unfinished" because I wasn't happy with them yet. And needless to say, the story count does not reflect the number of days that have passed.
But on the bright note, I foresee catching up. If I write 2 count every workday, I'll be caught up by the end of the year and can even keep my weekends free. In a manner of speaking. I tend to write more than I can post during the week, so on weekends, I tend to post all the stories hanging around waiting.
And I'm writing a novel. An AU novel. An experimental novel. One I shouldn't be touching with a ten-foot pole. The muse and I are still negotiating.
Have a snippet:
Teaching autumn gave way at last to winter and blew me with a snowy gale back into my favorite coffee shop where ice melt dripped from coats thrown over the backs of wooden chairs onto the coffee-brown matte floor. Three weeks ago from those crisp autumn days and slowly but surely, my open books on the lower counter gradually shifted to thick, already damp rags on the upper bar.
The day you stepped inside the glass was fogged and bitter cold. Black coffee burbled in the makers on the back wall, and girls’ laughter tumbled about with the rich aroma of roasting grounds.
I wiped down the long counter, wet with coffee drips and damp jackets, as I watched your group of young men gather around table five. You lay down your netbook computers, notebooks, and pencils with a small, talkative clatter, filled the chairs with your presence, the shop with the friendly ambience of your laughter.
You were the blonde one, clearly a brother in arms or fact to the dark-haired one at the head of the table. A few glances around at the others, your friends—questions, answers—and then you came up to the counter and leaned against it, tall enough to bring you closer to me than I liked.
“What can I get for you?” I asked, keeping my voice pleasant and laying aside the rag.
Most people would have smiled, but you didn’t. Something intense burned behind your eyes but all you said was, “You’re the barista?”
Coffee beans became rich, black beverage behind me where the other girls poured out cups of espresso, macchiato, latte; yet, you asked. Crazy you, I raised an eyebrow at the question.
Then you smiled, dimpling on one side and not the other. You rattled off a list of eight drinks and then said, “And one for me. Got any suggestions?”
How about you? Any illicit projects thrown in by the muse?
The snippet is wonderful! So rich with description, and a hint of romance will always drag me into a story. 🙂 And that's not just because I adore coffee shops.
Sometimes I feel that all my projects are illicit because the idea of writing stuff that other people will read feels somewhat dangerous! I'm always working on a story like that in my spare moments though (when I should be revising) one that is certainly too weird to publish, but nevertheless will not remain inside my head anymore.
Congrats on finding a job! I know, I have one too, and am glad to have it, but it takes a while to adjust to the new routine and squeeze in the writing. You'll find a way, and having income to pay bills should never be underrated.
Do your novel words count towards the 365 Challenge? I hope they do. I'd love some more of these!
In a thoroughly platonic fashion, I love you! I used to be, and often still am, descriptively challenged. I tend to write sparse. See "Writing Down to the Bone." So this is so encouraging.
I'm glad to know I'm not the only one. This was starting to feel weird. I held it off for a long time, but it finally wouldn't BE fended off. Ah, well. I hope it's publishable when it's done, but I'm not sure how to work around the, you know, canon I'm flouting shamelessly.
Only once they're finished. If I serialized, that would work, but I don't do so well at WIP original fiction serials—primarily because I thrive on comments and questions and prompts, and that's something you just don't get as much on original fiction. I'm trying to talk myself into staying committed to a book-length project and it seems to need focus. This one has that, so... maybe. Maybe.
🙂 I'll have you know that I'm a description junkie, as my prose fairly drips with it so that should tell you that you're doing a fantastic job of adding it in! Writing sparse always feels too bare for me, although I've learned to be brutal in deleting or redistributing my descriptive excesses in revision.
And actually, I remember your Writing Down the Bones post from Rabia Gale's blog because it mesmerized me. 🙂
I have a feeling that whatever writing projects you take on you'll do well at them!
Thank you! You are so encouraging at a time I really needed it.