In 2011, I resolved to write at least 30 minutes every day. I hoped, by the end, I’d have… well, something. A proposal-ready book, a rough draft, pounds upon pounds of short stories. Okay, mostly a proposal-ready book.

Technically, I failed on that resolution. I didn’t write every day. I did, however, accomplish my goal in spirit!

See, I know I’d have a whole stack of rough draft or better novels if I’d just write continually. In the past, I’d go on a writing spree, lose interest, and quit for months on end. I didn’t improve because I didn’t practice and I had nothing to show for myself because I didn’t write. I felt terrible because I wasn’t a naturally brilliant writer. I had all these dreams — but where was the action? Where was the getting it done?

2011 was a year when I’ve done some part of the writing process throughout the whole year. It’s becoming a habit so ingrained that it may take me weeks to give it up properly. As a creature of a predictable schedule, I would then have a great big slot empty each day… and watching television just isn’t satisfying enough to fill it.

Trust me. The last time I tried to give up writing, I got so bored that I organized three closets/storage rooms in my apartment. On the other hand, if I succeed in giving up writing, I’d have a very clean house.

If it doesn’t work, give it up and try something anew

After falling in love a new with an old NaNoWriMo draft, I spent months editing it. Months. I pinned my hopes and dreams on actually publishing this one. It would be a masterpiece!

On the third draft, when I sat down to read it, I couldn’t even get through the first few scenes. It was just… ugh.

Utterly depressing. This stack of PDF pages represented months of work reduced to nothing to show for it but the response “ugh”. I didn’t even know how to fix it. I may have loved the characters and the arc later on, but this beginning truly sucked. No real person would read past the first scene.

So I shelved it and started something new.

That was probably one of my better decisions since a) I didn’t give up and b) I found something that I wrote a lot better. I found a voice that suited me. One that I could re-read and not say “ugh” but “wow”.

To be fair, it was not a completely new project. I found scenes from the novel, tentatively called Child of Darkness, that I had started at the beginning of the year (before falling in love with another ). When I read them, I gawked. Really, I did. I hadn’t written this stuff — I couldn’t have. It was good. It was a rough draft, but it still towered above the one I gave up. So I went back to working on that one.

I took a break from novel writing when I went to Europe, since I did not want to take a laptop. I wrote in a journal when I could, writing short scenes inspired by the locality and journalled a lot. When I came back, I was utterly jazzed and happy. It’s a strange feeling, being utterly content for days on end. I think I may have grown a little as a person.

NaNoWriMo doesn’t have to mean awful, if you use it to learn better

After Europe, October came and I put Child of Darkness away since I planned to do NaNoWriMo. I outlined a new book which took place in the same universe as Child of Darkness. That universe seemed to bring the best out of my writing and I didn’t want to let go just yet.

Instead of just writing 50,000 words, I vowed write 50,000 good words. I did. When I reread it in late December, it was the best first draft I’ve ever written. Not only that, but I also learned a lot about outlining and setting and not being afraid to attack new genres due to vocabulary difficulties.

What I didn’t realize before was while I said I outlined, I set myself up to be a pantser. That obviously failed. Hard. I needed to set myself up for success — a real goodness to gracious outline, with arcs and enough detail to know what I’m writing and enough flexibility for inspiration.

Now I’d say that if you don’t have at least ten scenes to start in three acts, you’re writing like a pantser.

As of December 30, 2011, I have finished the second draft. It’s now in the waiting bin until I get enough distance. It’s not submission-ready, although I wouldn’t be horribly embarassed for an editor to see it now. Maybe after this next draft, I’ll feel ready (and terrified) to write and send proposals. Holy moly, I might actually get a publishing gig, or some nice cathartic crying when I receive a lot of rejection notes. Think positive, eh?

Goals are helpful, they tell you what you want to do

I’ve seen some things around the Internet about not making resolutions but choosing words to live by. Or really, words to live by and then a long explanation of what exactly you mean. Which is good for them, if it works.

I however love actual resolutions — not the classic kinds like lose weight and quit smoking (since I’m naturally underweight and have never smoked), but the kinds with measures and actions. I know I succeeded because I did this.

My goals for this year include:

• Check items off of my life list.
• Get at least one novel in a query-ready state.
• Send at least one query to a publisher.
• Become less insecure. If I’m not good at something, then learn how to do it better. Don’t wallow in it. Be a nicer person. Finally grow up. (And yes, not a great goal in terms of an actionable plan. How will I know if I’m a nicer person? I’m working on a plan to come up with the plan.)

 

How was 2011 for you? What are your goals for 2012?