I first learned of a story submission from The First Line on Friday afternoon (Thefirstline.com). Everyone else in the world had three months to write their piece; I had three days. Interesting prompt that was right up my alley, can-do attitude: What the hell, why not?
So…Sunday submission it is.
I wrote like a maniac til four in the morning, writing more outline type stuff than full-fledged story. Not finished, but the ending in sight. Got up the next day, didn’t read so much a word of what I had written prior, just picked up where I left off, and did it again. I was done with my first draft before 6PM. 4000 words, 11 pages long. Not too shabby. For a 5000 word contest I had a 1000 word leeway to play with. Made dinner, cause kids get hungry (imagine that). Ate, then started on rewrites. Finished on the first rewrites at 11PM. 5048 words, 13 pages long.
Go big, or go home, people.
I am exhausted, yet thrilled.
This whole experience is so contrary to my process as to seem backwards.
I usually like to take a day or more to write a story. Hell, I like to think about my story to start. With lots of breaks for life and such and then take weeks to edit it to be perfect. Casie-perfect, which is perfect enough. 🙂
Nah…that’s for suckers.
From go, to end in three days? Oh yeah.
Occasionally, I’ll whip out a complete short story in a weekend and feel proud of myself. These are generally 1600 words or so. They are stories that come in a flash and get written in a flash.
Tomorrow is my final rewrite. Then I send out into the world and try not to obsess over it too much. After all, I will have done my absolute best, and what more can I possibly horse whip out of myself than my very best?
It’s good for me. I said I wanted to try new things, and here I am.