- Chapter 14: 2319 words (completed at 3324 words)
- Scene: 1458 words
What am I working on?
I'm almost done with that sequel in my "terrible trilogy for funsies." Maybe five or six more chapters to go. So I'll be working on that to try to finish it before the new semester hits. I've also been having more moments where I'm just thinking up of scenes for my future project, so I've been just writing them out for my eyes only for the time being. Right now I have maybe two ideas "queued up" for me to work on. For some reason, typing out a 3000-word chapter will take me one week; but a 1000-word scene will take me maybe thirty minutes to an hour or so. Curious, that.
How do I feel about the process?
I'm both excited and sad that I'm finishing up my sequel. Excited, because it's so bad that while I'm writing it I just keep thinking, "I can do so much better, why do I even try with this thing?" Sad... well... I put a lot of work into it, had fun while writing it, interacting with the small audience I've gathered for it, and I've developed a fondness to its weirdness like it's that angelfish my family had that liked to eat its own eggs off the tank wall. (Yes, she did that. Yes, it was gross.) I'm a bit sad that it's going to end soon. However, I am also relieved that in a few weeks I can finally take a break from the trilogy and recuperate my brain. For some reason writing one chapter a week for that thing takes a lot out of me.
The scene-things, on the other hand, are a completely different story. I can finish those things in one sitting no problem. This might be a symptom where I'm growing tired of my longer project, or that the plot that I'm using these scenes to help me plan is actually well thought out.
Or it might just be that the plot is cathartic since it's dealing with much darker themes than my seemingly more light-hearted trilogy plans, which is saying something because that trilogy is lacking on the restraints for character deaths. Either way, I'm enjoying it, even if life is kinda mirroring what I'm writing at the moment.
Which brings me up to another thing that I find a bit amusing. It's either just me being really paranoid or hyper-analytical where my brain is perceiving something that isn't there or it's mere coincidence, but whenever I'm writing something, no matter how fictional it is, real life seems to reflect it especially if I'm thinking really hard about how I want the events to play out in a scene.
Like when a character's brother died, and I was trying to figure out how to write it since I've never experienced a similar loss or witnessed firsthand how people would react. A few days later my mom received word that her youngest brother passed away. Terrible, but at the same time while I was grieving for my uncle, I turned to writing to help me out, and the events that played out helped me write that scene with no issues.
Or when I was trying to figure out how to work the "budding romance" angle the readers begged me to try to work in, and how I was telling them that I have no idea how to write it out since never have I ever had anyone ever shown interest in me like that before, nor vice versa. Then boom, that happened, and it made both parties extremely flustered and awkward; and it proved to be very useful for helping me out with writing the romantic subplot. (Oh gosh, you know who you are, and if you're reading this I'm super sorry that I'm extremely aromantic otherwise and I'm glad you and I are finally on the same page.)
And other such things like that. It's either I'm psychic, or paranoid, or maybe cursed with unexplainable ways of beating writer's block (but I'm pretty sure just over-thinking). I'm not superstitious, but according to Philippine wives' tales, my birthmark suggests that I'm prone to unlucky things like curses; it's hard for those things not to come to mind when I can't think of a decent explanation as I'm dancing between awake and sleep in the middle of the night.
It does kinda get me a bit scared to write some scenes I've got planned in the future. Because what if?
Mood-wise, I haven't gotten any better compared to last week, but at least I haven't gotten any worse.
What am I reading?
My list is thankfully still the same as last time. Whoo boy, my brain just isn't settling enough for the attention required to read a few paragraphs.
What else am I doing?
So this whole week I'm visiting some of the exhibits offered in the local museums. On Monday, I went to the California Science Center and got to see the Endeavour. My mom found it interesting, but she didn't understand why I kept bouncing on my feet as I stood in the same room as it. I dunno. I like rockets, I guess?
And earlier today, I went to the Ronald Reagan Library (for the umpteenth time, but I'm not complaining) and got to see some of the new additions that I didn't get to see since the last time I went and got to look at the temporary Titanic exhibit they've got there for the time being.
Not sure where I'm going to go next. Later in the week I'll compile some of the pictures I've taken, which are very few; I certainly don't belong in the "selfie generation" and their obsession with pictures, that's for sure.
I'm also still searching for a part-time job. Sadly, it's just rejection after rejection since my school schedule isn't going to work out it seems. It's partially the reason why my mood's pretty low for the past few weeks. But I'll keep searching. I'll get one, one day. Better things can come if I'm just patient.