Yesterday, I was sitting here watching some mind-numbing pablum on TV (boy, that narrows it down a lot) and I saw something that gave me an idea. I'd secured myself that I'd never write another novel. Too much work, too long, too many critics, and never a dime to earn. Just not doing it. I'd rather screw around with making fart noises with my armpits that suffer that thankless work again. I can't spare $200 or more on writing a novel. Never writing another. Novels are for the dedicated, and I'm a horrid hack.
Now, as I type this, I've covered new ground. I'm not a pantser. Why? Because pantsers plan too much. Yeah, I said it. I'm a "teether". I write by the skin of my teeth, and as ideas hit me, I write them in the piece. This time, the idea is too good to leave to a shoddy memory. I've put together a little plan that answers the big questions, but leaves me plenty of room to write my story without being handcuffed by a plot.
I'm a piddling 548 words into my novel. Yeah, the thing I said I'd never write again, a novel. I'm putting my head back into the lion's mouth. I know so damn little about publishing that I honestly don't know how much it'll cost to have it put out through a trade publisher. By the time I've finished the manuscript, I'll likely find that most agents are "pay-to-read", and I'll have to drop a couple hundred just to get it on one desk. Then, with his "incidental costs" adding another grand I'll likely have to spend more than it'd ever earn to put it in print.
It's a thriller. By the time I get it done, the thriller genre will be as dead as the western genre. I'm going to spend money I don't have to get it published, but I'm doing it. Why? Excellent question. I'm stupid. That's the big one. I'm just dumber than a bag of rotten cucumbers. Beyond that, I have confidence in the idea because it is good. If this book can be written as I see the story in my head, I'd spend money to get a copy. For a cheapskate like I am, that's high praise. It's good, and I think I can write it.
I'll probably lose my friggin' shirt trying to get it published, it'll make my measly $220 loss on my self-pubbed book look like child's play, but I'm doing it. With that in mind, I think that may be a sign that calling myself dumber than a bag of rotten cucumbers may be drastically overestimating my intelligence.
You know, being creative and unable to disengage the creative gear, it's a real pain sometimes. I know 548 is a really low count, but it's a start. I'm hoping that, by committing publicly to write this damn thing I may actually do it. My main flaw is that I start many things that go unfinished. This idea is worthy of continued effort.
Wish me luck, because I fear I'll need all I can get.