Void Week: Writing
Dec. 28th, 2025 06:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spryngWhile things might have been an absolute mess at dayjob, writing went unexpectedly well this year. 4yo has clearly fully transitioned away from his 4am/5am surprise wake-ups, as well as sleeps through the night, every night now.
Just knowing I will have the hours before 6.30am to myself make a huge difference, mentally. Back when he would randomly wake up between 4 and 7, I was always on edge, waiting for the creak of his door. It was hard to sink into the mindspace for writing, which inevitably meant I just wasted that time futzing around instead. I wonder, now, if that inability to get into the flow was why nothing I wrote was good enough.
And mornings are the only time I get, so if he's awake, they're over. In another year or two he'll be more like 9yo: either sleeping in or happy to go do his own thing so I can keep writing. I can't even begin to imagine what that would be like.
...or can I? Well, maybe I'll get back to that.
I kept up my goal of reading a bit every day, although I certainly fell off it from time to time. That said, I did read 24 books which probably seems incredibly low to some of you, but previous years I struggled to read 15. I would like to get back to a book a week, at least, and I can see that coming. Although... that number does not include all the children's books I read. If we count those, we're easily over 100, hah. I read at least 20 Animorphs books this year (we're on #50 now, ie the final stretch), all of the Alien Nextdoor books, most if not all of the Princess in Black series, some of the Kitty books... and those are all chapter books, I'm not even counting picture books.
My MIL got me a new ereader for Christmas--the old one won't even turn on anymore--so here's to more reading in the dark before going to sleep.
Anyway, back to writing. I finished writing catastrophe!WIP last winter, edited it over the spring, gave it to betas early summer, made more edits over the summer, and finally started querying it in August. Reading the entries around that book are such a wild ride, because I clearly loved it while I was working on it, but as soon as I started querying, all my confidence in it evaporated. To the point where I think I only queried 20 agents total, which is such a drop in the bucket.
Almost all of them have passed. Three requested fulls, and two of those have already declined, one of which at least offered some suggestions for revision and was open to a R&R. I'm still waiting on the third, and then I'm going to let it go. It is a weird project, one that doesn't fit neatly in a sci-fi or fantasy or horror bucket but is a little of each and I think all of publishing is skittish about things that don't fit right now.
My current WIP has a clearer hook, and therefore a better chance, I think.
Which brings us to those wild six weeks where I fever-wrote about vampires, of all damn things. A book I was reading tweaked something in my brain and I literally put it down and banged out 10 pages of a new idea. And then I was off, writing 2k+ every day with ease. I would write 300 words in the 20min before crossfit in the morning and write 300 words in the dark before going to sleep every evening and another 1 or 2k inbetween. It really was like a possession: any spare time was spent writing.
It was such a freeing feeling, like an unblocked sink, like being able to breathe after a long cold, like finally getting to the top of the biggest hill in town and then rolling back down.
And now I've been editing that WIP for the last few months and it's weirdly... not even in first draft shape. More like second or even third draft. To the point where I'm wondering if I'm still too close to it.
But I like it and I've already got half a query written and a first draft synopsis. It's urban fantasy, so that opens me up to different agents. I plan on querying come January, when agents open up for the year.
And honestly, if that doesn't get any bites... I might be done. At least until I retire. Publishing seems to be going through another tightening belt phase and even strong midlist authors are struggling like they haven't before, and with my publishing baggage, I know my books are just going to be a hard sell.
Maybe I'll try selfpub. Maybe I'll just write for myself and steadily tuck books away. I definitely won't stop writing, but it's harder and harder to ask other people to read what I write. How does my stuff stand out when there are such amazing authors out there, so many amazing books? Why should anyone spend their time with the thoughts in my head? I don't have an answer to that, so.
So yeah, a pretty good year for writing, despite the political distractions, despite the chronic fatigue, despite dayjob creeping further and further outside of it's box. If I finish edits this week, that'll be two books done in one year.
I'll take it.
Just knowing I will have the hours before 6.30am to myself make a huge difference, mentally. Back when he would randomly wake up between 4 and 7, I was always on edge, waiting for the creak of his door. It was hard to sink into the mindspace for writing, which inevitably meant I just wasted that time futzing around instead. I wonder, now, if that inability to get into the flow was why nothing I wrote was good enough.
And mornings are the only time I get, so if he's awake, they're over. In another year or two he'll be more like 9yo: either sleeping in or happy to go do his own thing so I can keep writing. I can't even begin to imagine what that would be like.
...or can I? Well, maybe I'll get back to that.
I kept up my goal of reading a bit every day, although I certainly fell off it from time to time. That said, I did read 24 books which probably seems incredibly low to some of you, but previous years I struggled to read 15. I would like to get back to a book a week, at least, and I can see that coming. Although... that number does not include all the children's books I read. If we count those, we're easily over 100, hah. I read at least 20 Animorphs books this year (we're on #50 now, ie the final stretch), all of the Alien Nextdoor books, most if not all of the Princess in Black series, some of the Kitty books... and those are all chapter books, I'm not even counting picture books.
My MIL got me a new ereader for Christmas--the old one won't even turn on anymore--so here's to more reading in the dark before going to sleep.
Anyway, back to writing. I finished writing catastrophe!WIP last winter, edited it over the spring, gave it to betas early summer, made more edits over the summer, and finally started querying it in August. Reading the entries around that book are such a wild ride, because I clearly loved it while I was working on it, but as soon as I started querying, all my confidence in it evaporated. To the point where I think I only queried 20 agents total, which is such a drop in the bucket.
Almost all of them have passed. Three requested fulls, and two of those have already declined, one of which at least offered some suggestions for revision and was open to a R&R. I'm still waiting on the third, and then I'm going to let it go. It is a weird project, one that doesn't fit neatly in a sci-fi or fantasy or horror bucket but is a little of each and I think all of publishing is skittish about things that don't fit right now.
My current WIP has a clearer hook, and therefore a better chance, I think.
Which brings us to those wild six weeks where I fever-wrote about vampires, of all damn things. A book I was reading tweaked something in my brain and I literally put it down and banged out 10 pages of a new idea. And then I was off, writing 2k+ every day with ease. I would write 300 words in the 20min before crossfit in the morning and write 300 words in the dark before going to sleep every evening and another 1 or 2k inbetween. It really was like a possession: any spare time was spent writing.
It was such a freeing feeling, like an unblocked sink, like being able to breathe after a long cold, like finally getting to the top of the biggest hill in town and then rolling back down.
And now I've been editing that WIP for the last few months and it's weirdly... not even in first draft shape. More like second or even third draft. To the point where I'm wondering if I'm still too close to it.
But I like it and I've already got half a query written and a first draft synopsis. It's urban fantasy, so that opens me up to different agents. I plan on querying come January, when agents open up for the year.
And honestly, if that doesn't get any bites... I might be done. At least until I retire. Publishing seems to be going through another tightening belt phase and even strong midlist authors are struggling like they haven't before, and with my publishing baggage, I know my books are just going to be a hard sell.
Maybe I'll try selfpub. Maybe I'll just write for myself and steadily tuck books away. I definitely won't stop writing, but it's harder and harder to ask other people to read what I write. How does my stuff stand out when there are such amazing authors out there, so many amazing books? Why should anyone spend their time with the thoughts in my head? I don't have an answer to that, so.
So yeah, a pretty good year for writing, despite the political distractions, despite the chronic fatigue, despite dayjob creeping further and further outside of it's box. If I finish edits this week, that'll be two books done in one year.
I'll take it.
