My daily writing routine

A lot has been said lately on the writing process. I thought that it might be helpful to compare notes on how we approach a daily writing session.

As my current project obsession is a foolhardy attempt to write a novel, I take extra care to stick to a regular routine in my sessions. I begin at the crack of dawn when I make a pot of coffee. This has to be done in a very exacting procedure that involves whole Colombian beans, a used sock, a ball-pein hammer, and a pot of boiling water. It takes a little extra effort, but the resulting cup is a rich, full-bodied poly-cotton blend.

When the coffee is ready, I sacrifice the goat. The sacrifice is entirely non-religious in nature — it’s just that, to me, there’s nothing more refreshing than a cup of fresh goat’s blood before a day’s writing. Because I’m a creature of habit, I have to pay close attention to detail: always use the same mug each day, and the goat’s blood must never mix with the coffee.

With two steaming mugs set each on their own cork pad, I sit facing the computer monitor. I often sit like this for at least an hour or so before I continue.

When I’m finished staring, I begin to sing show tunes in a falsetto voice. There’s nothing like a rousing rendition of Cabaret to start one’s creative juices flowing all over the place. I start simply, with “Willkommen”, and move on to “The Telephone Dance”. Neighbours across the street are often distracted by the sight of me bobbing my head merrily as I shout, “‘Table seven calling number nine, how are you handsome?’, ‘You mean me?'”, et cetera. By the time I finish “The Pineapple Song”, I’m ready to begin.

Then I empty the mug of goat’s blood over my head and turn on the computer. Shortly thereafter, I begin to type. In general, nouns seem to come to me more easily than verbs, and I eschew adverbs entirely. As for adjectives, they’re acceptable only if they contain several silent consonants and don’t distract me from the nouns.

At the end of a session, I have a great big list of words, which I then rearrange into sentences. Oddly, the plot always seems to revolve around water buffalo, but I have no recollection of typing those words.

And that’s how I like to write. How about you?

8500 words: doubt sets in

By yesterday afteroon, I reached 8,500 words in my story. I had wanted to hit that ten thousand mark just for the psychological significance, but I had to stop.

I need to go back and re-read chapter one to make sure that I haven’t completely missed the point of a novel, which is to be entertaining. So far, the two characters that I’ve introduced have had some nifty discussions about life, the universe, and everything, but very little has actually happened. Isn’t the first chapter supposed to be so riveting that the reader can’t put the book down? I hope the reader likes conversation.

Also, someone pointed out a huge flaw in the basic premise of the story, so I may have to put this aside and think about it for a week or two (or three or four).

Back, demon, from whence you came

How do you know if the company that you work for is making evil software? Here’s the on-screen help that I got for the command-line parameters:

	-D       Become a daemon (default)

-i Run interactive (not a daemon)

Well at least they give you the option of not becoming a demon.

For clarity, I like to add diagrams to the guides that I write. Here’s my concept for this one:

standalone daemon

Hold on. The command-line help says “daemon”, not “demon”. Never mind, then.

A “daemon” is a server process, apparently. I guess this means that my company doesn’t necessarily serve the powers of evil after all. That’s a relief, because I kind of like it here.

Fry Beans

Sabine of Sensei and Sensibility fame, kindly supplied me with a new item for Project Snack.

The green label said, “FRY BEANS”, and inside were deep-fried, salted peanuts. Flavourful, salty, and greasy, is how I would describe them… and how I ate them too.

'Fry Beans' deep-fried peanuts

And there’s an extra surprise in the pack.

Packet of silica gel

Unfortunately, it turned out to be silica gel.

Oog… brain hurts

In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I have a vast respect for professional novelists. My respect is even vaster (and crunchier!) now.

A concerted effort both yesterday morning and today has found me only a few thousand words richer. I’ve waded through some painfully tedious exposition that I know I’ll have to rewrite or remove later, and now our hero has spent some quality time berating a computer. Maybe that last part is simply me projecting my frustrations into the story.

Anyway, looking at the nuts-and-bolts side of things, my story’s word count has climbed to a modest 7,400 words. And now I’m pooped. Time to go outside and play.