Diversion tactics

Last night, I finished a self-imposed dare, if I could write 30,000 words for a new novel in 30 days. I don't know what triggered the mad race for words. I have suspects: my lagging on my earlier novel, a general feeling of not being able to write on command, a growing inertia of creativity. I needed something new, something I didn't have a lot invested in. I've been working on the first novel, the serious one, for almost two years on and off. At that point, it becomes a Byzantine maze, growing darker and more muddled every time you turn a cold, marble corner until you feel the walls pitilessly closing in on you.

About six weeks ago, I broke out of my low-grade novel terror with an idea that seemingly sprung out of my head, Athena-style, with my poet friend Cori. Never felt an experience like that before, everything rushing out as I messaged her. Imagine a soothing electrical shock wrapped in an orgasm tortilla and it begins to cover it. I remember writing "electric blue Jesus in my veins" to her as I typed down details, history, primary conflicts, and within an hour I had the basic concept of the character. Within 24 hours, still peaking on the creative dosage in my veins, I had the feel of the novel, as well as solid, evolving plot.

I put the serious novel, which loomed over me like a buzzard, off to the side and decided to see if I could hold my own mini-NaNoWriMo, but set the goal for 30,000 words, instead of 50,000. 30 days in April, 1,000 words a day. No outline, but a gist of the course. I found I need some kind of deadline in order to produce something, even if I don't know just what I'm doing. It's a sense that "You need to get this done by X." All in all, it was exciting in that rollercoaster-terrifying way to see what bubbled up in the primordial ooze. I reckon I could most of it, and pieces will need to be altered or swapped around for consistency. I embarrassingly forgot the name of the lead character's boyfriend several times, inventing a new one as I went. Oh, at least there'll be some fun in the rewrite.

So, I'm writing again, albeit on a different project. I'm taking the next few days to scan what I've written, acknowledging that it's time to figure out how to break all this down by chapter. I'm a bit mushy on the middle, but then that's the biggest challenge for writers (and why it's called a "mushy middle"). At the same time, the first novel is calling me again. With my juices going, I feel like I can return to the bigger maze I built and hammer that thing into shape and get it to my former writing teacher to review. I've blown off an informal deadline already, and I would like to get it to her before August at the latest. Hrm. I sense another deadline in the making.