Possibly I should re-read a couple of short stories I love immensely and pull them apart to see how they work. Re-read The SF Hall of Fame or the Hugo Winners and think about 'em all.
I am turning over ideas in my head for how to crank myself up. Writing every day last year, during the tagfic spams, was great for ideas and craft both. But I like being able to stretch out and tell longer stories in a more relaxed working pace.
Some vague goals:
- Finish & post one story or chapter a month.
- Finish serieses in progress; shorten the WIP list.
- Write longer things. E.g., finish last year's NaNoWriMo project.
- Write out of my comfort zone. Stylistic experiments; take cues from lusher writers than my usual.
- Try new genres: mystery, horror.
My goal had been a vague kind of "post something every two weeks," but I don't appear to be making it. Though lord knows, the ficspam you're gonna get from me next week is going to make up for the fact that I won't have posted anything at all for three weeks.
Which reminds me that I was going to write about the fear of finishing, the #1 reason why I have all those works in progress.
A finished story cannot be improved. It's done. I've committed to all my plot choices and said, here it is. That's the best I can do. What if I can't live up to the promise of the opening sections? Possibility vibrates with energy. The wave form collapses into a single choice; energy levels drop. The second-guessing can then commence. Sigh. Commitment is so difficult.
And I return to listening to one of Brian Eno's great triumphs and working on Buffy-as-Hero. Though... hey. I find designing soundtracks to inspire the story a successful mental strategy. The soundtrack for "Dust on His Hands From the Sky" slams me right down into the mood of that story. I should stop to do this.
Summery, sunny, warm, healing, starts discordant, ends triumphant. Hmm. "I'll Come Running" is high point. I'll build to that.