Two weeks ago I wrote 30,000 words in a week. As of this writing, I’m staring at 21,000 written words this week alone. Last week, I went easy and wrote 13,000 words.
Each time I post about it, people ask me why, or how, or what do you do for a living…
The fact of it all, through all the blog posts and sites and boards and whatever… if you want to succeed at writing or have a chance to succeed, you need to write. So that’s what I do. I write. There’s no magic process or potion to make this happen, it’s my dream right now that I refuse to let up on for a second. For the past two years I’ve spent every waking second writing ideas and notes and attempting outlines. Just recently have I embraced the beauty of outlines and with them, I’m able to produce word counts that I couldn’t imagine before.
I have three outlines at a time. In a basic sense, if I write 1,000 a day per story that gives me 3,000 words a day. I write 7 days a week, so that’s a minimum of 21,000 words a week. Simple, right?
My outlines give me everything I need to make sure the story is flowing and working for me. Now trust me, these aren’t stories I’ve pulled out of my ass on a whim to try and prove something. Circumstances in my life have allowed me to focus on this dream one hundred percent and if it never works out, I won’t be able to look back and say, ‘Shit, I should have tried harder…’
It’s not easy to write this much, but it’s my job. My wall is full of sticky notes, my notebooks are organized for what project comes next. And on top of all of that, I have weekly meetings with my graphic designer to go over covers, meet with my editor to talk about the projects we’re working on, and of course all the readings, formatting, and publishing details of all we do.
I’m staring down NaNoWriMo this time around with a smile. I will say though I can’t be sure I’ll get 50,000 words on a one project, but I’m going to try like hell.
But writing for me is fun. It’s work. It’s hard work. It’s frustrating. I chew pens and pencils. I scribble notes. I throw those notes out. I scribble more notes. I keep them. I get an idea for a book and I write it down. I write, write, write. In the mix of it all of that, I also cook breakfast for my kids, watch wrestling on Tuesday’s and Saturday’s with my kids, and make sure that my house has plenty of Daddy-kids time.
This is my life, and I love it.
I write 30,000 words a week because I can. I’m sure some day will come, maybe soon, where I manage a few thousand words. I’ll hit a wall, a slump, a bout of writers block. But until then, I’m not stopping… and neither should you. There’s a lot of regurgitation out there right now. The same posts. The same comments. The same of the same. Don’t listen to it. If you’re dream is to write, then get the hell up and write!