Last night, at 9:30, I finished the draft of that paper. It wan't due until midnight, but even I have learned that it isn't creative procrastination to push any writing into the late night. I'm too freaking old for that.
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But I did it. I got that draft written, and I'm glad I had all 13 of those books here during the process because then I could pick the most useful half a dozen. Now "Jane Austen's Miniatures" has been duly dropped into the course "drop box" and sent on time for full points for the rough draft - all 3400 words of it. (And I don't think it's all that rough even if it is just a smidge too long.)
Left in this quarter: final draft of this Lit essay, first draft and then final draft with documentation of the third and final PLA essay for the quarter, and a smidge more online course work, and then I'm done.
So now I'm thinking about it. Glad I had too many books for research.
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The week showed me:
--it's not about the course work for me. The course work is rich fodder, and satisfying bonus, and intrinsic reward, but really, it's about the writing.
--it is insanely hard to write when I have no forward momentum and it is very hard to build this momentum (hence the advice of See, Mosley, Herring, and every other successful writer or writing teacher: WRITE EVERY DAY.)
--once built, the momentum is energizing in every way.
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Now, I do know that being an enthusiast is not very workable in the long run. It is too feast-or-famine. We cannot rely on moody enthusiasm if we really want to get somewhere over time. I do know that.
But momentum is necessary to the process. No use trying to work without it - that's the part I hadn't realized until I found this kind of energy yesterday. I now see that I was assuming that I should get along without this sense of empowering outer force - like walking in the same direction as the wind. I thought that to get it, I had to start in the emotional jumping-off place where things are too unreliable for real life. I didn't know I could get momentum by sheer effort of forward movement. Yesterday felt like making a stiff wind and then walking with it rather than against it.
On Wednesday of this week, while still in the throes of frustration and pressure, I flounced into the library to pick up a book from the holds shelf. While I was there, I took the chance to moan to the ever-encouraging Mario. "I can't make it work. I have no idea what's wrong with me." He did what he always does when I talk about writing with him. He said exactly the right thing. "That's when you get to the good stuff," he said - looking knowingly certain of himself. He only looks like that when he's right. I swear, the man's a veritable momentum magneto. Mario the Momentum Magneto.
I was being pushed through the bottleneck, from inertia into momentum by deadlines. The pressure built and built because my PLA writing was getting very unwieldy and dull. I could not make myself move. It was wretched. And then one small pin prick from behind and I was through.
I asked my instructor online, "Will the sky fall in if we're late?" There was something very bracing in his English Teacher reply. (Shades of Mrs. Finster! Leave a comment if you knew her.) He said ... and I quote ... "The sky will not fall, but I subtract points for late work. For the draft, for each day late, I'll subtract 1 point, up to 3 points total. For the final essay, for each day late I'll subtract 3 points, up to a total of 9 points."
All at once, I knew I could do it. I woke up yesterday writing the crazy thing in my head, I started at about 9 in the morning, I took frequent enough breaks, I did my in town errands in the middle of the day, I cooked a rather creative and very yummy dinner, and I finished that draft at 9:30 last night.
Today I think I'll clean my office and get all the laundry caught up -- and then I might just set up all the formatting and necessary paperwork for my last PLA essay. Marvelous stuff, momentum.
(Footnote: The Great Husband has now read my draft and says it only needs a little polishing here and there. Now I know it's good!)
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