I always wanted to make an aesthetic for my WIP, though I wasn’t sure that I could.
Originally, this was due to my not understanding them as an artform. I knew they were collages of evocative photos that represents one’s story, and that they’re a common way for writers to discuss and promote their work on social media, particularly Twitter.
Apparently, I’m both a better and worse writer than I always thought.
It’s been pretty much a full year since I started my critique group, and the time I’ve spend working with my CPs has been full of revelations about myself as a writer.
This past August, my family sold the house that I grew up in.
My dad had been living there, but passed away almost two years ago (it will be exactly two years at the start of December).
I’ve written before on the topic of writers and validation.
That previous post was related to which form of publishing one might chose to pursue (self-publishing vs. traditional), and what that choice may or may not say about one’s need for acknowledgement by writing industry professionals, which in turn may or may not relate to the strength of one’s self esteem.
I always believed that I was a good writer.
This is a fairly common trait among writers and not necessarily a bad thing. No one would spend the necessary months or years to write a novel if they didn’t on some level believe themselves good at it, or at least capable of getting better.
Writing is not a team sport, except for when it eventually becomes one.
Overall, I consider writing the most solitary of the arts. Not only does writing a novel involve spending months, if not longer, alone inside one’s head trying to reproduce the drama unfolding therein, the interim stages of an unfinished novel hold next to no interest.
Plotter. Pantser. Zero drafter. I don’t even know what to call myself anymore.
It’s all just labels anyway. I’ve previously written about how, in their strictest sense, there’s almost no difference between them anyway.
As long as you end up with usable words on the page, it doesn’t really matter the method you employed to get them there.
I’ve played this game before.
Even though I had a thorough outline, I pantsed my way through a significant portion of my WIP’s first draft.
Now that I am some five drafts deep into revision, I find myself pinch-hitting for Team Pantser once again.
The previous Medieval Mondays post on sex discussed perceptions of women’s sexuality in the Middle Ages.
It covered historical notions of women as “misbegotten” lesser humans, as helplessly insatiable and promiscuous, and as ever in danger of being considered unmarriageable and “spoiled goods” if subject to even the hint of impropriety.