Words, Words and More Words

I feel as if I've discovered The Secret.


Many of my writer friends regularly write 2,000 words a day. Some as many as 8,000 words. I know of one man who can belt out 10,000, and one particularly prolific woman who I've heard can slam out 20,000 when she gets a full head of steam.


These are multi-published authors, not someone racing down one rabbit hole after another. These are people who know words, which ones work and which ones don't. (They probably never, ever use "was" in a sentence.)


For the longest time I decided the difference between their output and mine belonged solely to the concept of deadlines. Commitments. A responsibility to produce. They had real deadlines. Mine were only pretend.


But last week I tried something. And it worked. I hit my word count for the day. A fluke?


So, I tried it again the next day. Bingo.


On the third day I really gave it a test, and upped the word count I wanted by the end of the day. Ta-dah!


Do you want to know what I did?


Before I tell you, you need to understand I am not writing (yet) 20,000 or 8,000 or even 2,000 words a day, every day. But I have been successful at hitting between 800 and 1,000, which for me is like opening a whole new world of wonders.


I did not get my rough draft completed by the end of October, but heck . . . I didn't know this secret until a few days ago. Now that I'm pumping, it should come sooner rather than later.


Are you ready? It's ridiculously simple. On my To Do List, I write down how many words I want my manuscript to contain by the end of the day. Once I hit that number, I can play. I can veg with my husband in front of the television, or read, or paint my toenails, or go for a long walk. I can "close up shop."


I'm not naive enough to believe this will work every day, but I can tell you, I have a lot better chance at upping my word count doing this than just wishing it so.


So now I'm off to get those words in. 


Do you have something that's been difficult for you to accomplish with your writing? Have you figured out the secret that works for you?






CR: The Charlestown Connection by Tom MacDonald. I'm pretty sure this is his debut novel, and dang . . . it's pretty good.


It's all better with friends.

Things We Say Wrong

I'm off playing in Greensboro, North Carolina at the Writer's Police Academy. I'll post a few highlights when I get back to Colorado, but in the meantime, there's nothing better for Word Wizards than to know we're not alone.

Sit back. Enjoy.

How Much is Too Much?

Like most writers, I can get stuck on a word or a phrase and use it multiple times without recognizing what I'm doing.

I'm not talking about "ick" words: that, just, only, it, as, was, had, been . . . you know which ones.

"Fisted" is a cool word that is unusual enough that one use in a book is brilliant. Use it twice and I begin to take a closer look at the author's ability to evolve.

"Sigh" I'm not so sure about. It's almost a word I glance over without it registering. One of my writing partners suggested I do a search and find out how many times I use it. True, I'd used it twice in the two chapters I'd just submitted for critique, but I'd only used it five times in the entire manuscript.

A friend of mine discovered, after her book was on the shelves, that she'd used the phrase "bear of a man" way too often.

How much is too much?

As a writer, have you caught yourself (or more likely been caught) using a word or phrase more than you should?

As a reader, are there words that make you cringe?

CR: I'll be cracking the cover of Urgent Care by CJ Lyons tonight.

It's all better with friends.

LOGOMACHY

From Mirriam-Webster's Eleventh Edition: lo-gom-a-chy: a dispute over or about words.

The debate continues to rage. While I'm firmly on one side of the issue, well-meaning others . . . are simply wrong.

(My husband will get a chuckle over that statement. Between his gorgeous, immensely talented and intelligent wife ;-), and his good friend Robert, my husband can't decide who most fits this statement: "Often wrong, but never in doubt." Of course, that somehow makes my husband superior, and I have a problem with that picture.)

I'm a writer. I'm a reader. Those two pieces of information logically lead me to the conclusion that I love words. And I do. But I'm not a linguist. I can only guess roots, and ask my critique partners . . . my grammar is often by the seat of my . . . er, ears. (Thanks again to my parents.)

One of my favorite authors does not write suspense. Anne Rivers Siddon. I love the low-country feel of her stories. The ebb and flow of life and lessons. I also love the fact that when I read one of her books, I need to keep a pen and paper handy so I can make note of words I want to look up later. She engages me not only in the story, but in the words. She stretches the definitions from time to time, but she makes our language matter. It has value. The words paint.

Dean Koontz (who I want to be when I grow up) does the same thing.

I read something a while ago about how heavily the English language has borrowed from all other languages. Isn't that wonderful? Don't you think we must have some of the best crafted words in the world? Expressive. Decisive. Emotive. Perfect.

So what I can't stand is when people want me (or others) to simplify their words. Sorry, no can do. I write suspense. My audience are people who have progressed beyond fourth-grade reading levels. I will not stoop. I will feel honored if they at times need to make note of a word to look up later. (NOT IN THE BOOK. ON A SEPARATE PIECE OF PAPER.)




Currently reading: Silent Thunder, by Iris Johansen and her son, Roy Johansen. Look for my review (in about a week) at Armchair Interviews.

It's all better with friends.