Tag Archives: WIP

Subdue Your Inner Perfectionist

It has to be perfect.

Every word, every syllable, every turn of phrase.

Nothing out of alignment.

All parts marching blissfully toward the greatest expression that ever existed.

Everything else is crap.

That’s what it’s like living with a perfectionist. I should know. I am one.

It’s fascinating. I couldn’t care less as to how much dust is accumulating on my bookshelves, or whether my cupboards are organized, but when I sit down to complete a task that I place great value on, it had better be perfect.

The pursuit of perfection has positives and negatives. On the positive side, I will always hand in my best work. Anything less is unacceptable. The down side? I am often plagued with unnecessary stress and crippling self-doubt. No one else is telling me my work is shit, or that the essay I handed in was subpar. I am. It’s all self-induced pressure. Fortunately, over the years, I’ve learned to negotiate terms with my inner dominatrix. But recently, I discovered just how detrimental being a perfectionist can be to my writing.

I have a new novel I’ve been working on. I’ve been messing around with it all summer. But now that it’s approaching autumn, I’m no further ahead than I was months ago. Why? Because I was trying to come up with the perfect motivation for my heroine that would propel her actions throughout the entire novel. In my mind, it made sense to set up her sound, logical reasoning right out of the gate. I figured the story would flow much easier. After all, if we both knew (my heroine and I) why she was doing what she was doing, then it would make each witty exchange of dialogue and every dollop of conflict in every scene relevant and poignant.  

I hammered out my motivation and then pounded out 10,000 words. Until suddenly, I couldn’t pound out a single word more. My perfect setup hit a road block. What I assumed was perfectly sound, ended up having so many holes in it, it wouldn’t hold up to a bucket of water, let alone a reader’s critical scrutiny.

I became muddled in logic and loop holes. I couldn’t write a single word more. Instead, I spent the next two months trying to fix the leaks. I dug deeper, grabbed the plaster and trowels and taped, patched, and remodelled but I couldn’t get it right. My writing ground to a halt.

Obviously, I had hit upon another failure. At least this time, I realized it early in the process. What if I’d spent a year or two of my life working on this thing only to find out the novel stood on a teetering foundation of paper cards?

I moped about for a bit. Railed against the uselessness of it all. Then, it hit me. If I wanted to write this damn book, I needed to write the scenes I wanted to write, regardless of whether I’d figured out the motivation or not. Perhaps if I just kept chug, chug, chugging along, something would finally click.

I wrote one scene.

It wasn’t perfect, and I knew that meant when it came time for revisions and second, third and hundredth drafts, I would end up changing a whole whack of stuff, but at least I was writing again. I decided this was immeasurably preferable to sitting around and twiddling my thumbs all day.

Then, as if to hammer home the point, I came across an article, which suggested that perfectionism ultimately destroys creativity.

Touché universe, touché.

I got it. No more trying to fit my writing into a neat and tidy box, now I will let the words flow. I’d figure out how they all fit together later.

Maybe.

Maybe it will suck, and nothing will come of it. But, deep down inside, I think I’m on to something. I just need to let go of the wheel and enjoy the ride.

In gratitude,

Marissa xo

Avelynn 3: Could This Be The Beginning?

This scene came out of nowhere, and apparently, I had to jot it down. And… it’s in Alrik’s POV. #Interesting

Could this be the beginning of Avelynn 3?

Alrik ran his hand along the worn rail, the wood cool and wet, the mist blanketing the hull in a shroud of silence. They’d all know of his betrayal and exile. Raven’s Blood skulked like a wounded dog, her numbers greatly reduced from her altercations in Wales, though no one would be fool enough to think her crippled. At close to fifty crew, she was still formidable, but dissent and bitterness trailed the aft like a festering dung heap. Those looking would smell it a hundred knots away.

“How much longer?” Tollak leaned his hip against the steering board—the rudder as useless as the compass stone since the fog descended and they’d dropped anchor.

Alrik ran a hand through his hair. There was no splitting the veil. “Another day, perhaps?” 

At the least the sea rolled quiet. Despite the otherworldly chill, he’d gladly take fog over a tempest. He glanced around the crew. “How many?”

Tollak frowned. “At least half.”

Alrik nodded. That was to be expected. At least twenty men would stand by him, offering protection for the ship and Avelynn. It would be a good number to present to his uncle Rurik in Novgorod, if he accepted them. Only the Gods knew their fate. The rest of the men would return home to Gotland and Sweden. They owed him nothing.

In gratitude,

Marissa xo

 

Twitter WIP Show and Tell on #R2P

November 7th, 2016

This week’s theme for #Road2Publication #R2P is:

Tell us about your Work in Progress. Give us the hook in 150 characters or less.  Don’t forget to use the #Road2Publication or #R2P

If you tag me @marissa_author I will be sure to ReTweet you!

#R2P-Nov72016

In gratitude,

Marissa xo

#Road2Publication

I want to start a movement based on positivity, community, support, and fellowship.

road2publication

My vision revolves around three words:

Dream. Believe. Create

If you can dream it, believe in it, then create it.

Dream big. Dream with your whole heart.

Believe in yourself. Believe in your vision.

Create your own destiny. Create your happiness. Create your dream come true.

#Road2Publication is a tool to support authors and writers on their quest toward publication. Whether you’re seeking traditional or self publishing, we all have the same goal… for others to read our work. We might take many different paths to get there, but we are all on the same journey. I’d like to create a community of support where we lift each other up, share our experiences, and root each other on.

Talk about your successes. Share your obstacles. Ask questions. Find answers. Speak about your current WIP. Tell us about your process. Where are you on your #Road2Publication?

In gratitude,

Marissa xo

All About the Journey

Writing is a fascinating process. You start off in one direction, wander down multiple pathways, back track, take the fork in the road, retrace your steps, follow the bend, stare at dead ends, turn back, and try again. So many tangents, so many broken lines… only to end up at the right spot, eventually.

#AllAboutTheJourney #WritersLife #HotInAruba #Word

Gateway to Macha
In gratitude,
Marissa xo

For the Record

From today’s writing: Hot in Aruba

Hot in Aruba

My feet moved mechanically. I was a sexually active woman. I loved sex. I craved the intimacy and high of climax, yet around Carlos, I acted like a girl who’d barely been kissed. And why? Because I was bent on us being friends. That old record was seriously wearing out its groove.

When he’d suggested we should head back, I’d wanted anything but. However, the idea of pushing him down and fucking him in the desert sand hadn’t really appealed to me, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why? Outside sex was hot. A thought burbled to the surface, and I cringed. A whiny, pouty little voice mewled that our first time together should be special.

I kicked a pebble in my path. What the hell was happening to me? I was losing my fucking mind.