I Knew Today Stunk

This morning, I got into a knock-down-drag-out fight with my four-year-old. It started small—"NO!"— and ended up with me dragging a garbage can into the kitchen and throwing away toys, one after another, until he saw that he was, indeed, not the one in charge.

Then I had an editor go ballistic on me because they basically hired me to report a story in the middle of a natural disaster. I don't want to get into too much detail, but it was like the lesser equivalent of going to Haiti right now to report on the brick-making business. Just a bad, impossible, stupid, rudderless idea. So he's pissed, and I'm pissed because I've poured enough time into this story that I'll earn about $3 an hour and it still stinks.

And then I just read that J.D. Salinger died. Now, I'm no Catcher in the Rye fanatic, but I suspect like a lot of boys, I read it at the perfect moment, when I was most open to its nihilism. I read it on the train to Chicago, traveling alone and still a teenager myself. I completely related to Holden Caulfield.

So there it is. One. Crap. Day.

When does Happy Hour start again?

The Overlords of Japanese Porn

Seem to have discovered my blog. I looked at some old posts and saw that I had up to 50 comments that appeared to be randomly generated links to Japanese porn. So does anyone know how I can ban certain IPs or commenters on Blogspot? Does anyone else have this problem? Or do some of you not consider it a problem at all?

I Type Fast

It's true. I type really fast. At the height of my typing prowess, I once clocked about 90 words per minute. I think I might have been past 100 wpm, but my memory is kind of foggy on the details, so who knows. But anyway, the point is that I type really fast, and it's not at all unusual for people to say, "Boy, you type fast" when they first hear or see me type.

Typing fast makes my job as a freelancer possible. There are lots of times when, as a freelancer, you're not really "writing" so much as copying quotes, reinterpreting data or paraphrasing. In these situations, typing fast is a Godsend. I'm not quite sure how much this little skill is worth to me in terms of hard dollars, but it's definitely worth something.

Here's the problem: I used to think that because I typed fast, I also wrote fast.

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

In fact, I don't write fast at all. I can generate a lot of words quickly, but in terms of finished product? Not fast. I might have to revise 45 times, and lately, I've gotten in the habit of STOPPING WRITING when I hit a scene I'm unsure of and just sitting on it and thinking. Then thinking some more. So before I start typing at all, there might be 3 or 4 days worth of thought in that scene. Not quick when you're talking about 500 words.

This idea that I write fast—persistent as it was—has been a pretty major stumbling block for me because it was all wrapped up in pride and didn't allow much room for revisions. My second novel was 120,000 words. I wrote (typed) it in 7 weeks. Some days I cranked out 5,000 or 7,000 words. Problem was, the novel was dreck. I often say that part of my evolution as a writer has been developing my process, but I think what I really mean is that I've been discovering what kind of writer I ACTUALLY am, as opposed to what kind of writer I THINK I am.

So ... what do you think? Are you holding onto any beliefs about yourself as a writer that might 1) be untrue and 2) actually holding you back? Tough question, right? Because answering that question is half the battle when it comes to becoming a better writer.