The Seventh Year

On December 7, 2015, I began writing my epic novel (my magnum opus), and while I’ve also worked on other projects on and off since then, the vast majority of my time and energy has gone into what I refer to as “the Big Book.” This means that I’ve been writing this book for six years, and I’ve just entered the seventh year.

The thing that is somewhat disheartening for me is this: I’m still on the second draft of the book. Because the Big Book is so long (my prediction is that, when finished, it will weigh in at 800K to 1M words), it will actually be presented in 6 volumes, or episodes as I call them. And here’s the really disheartening fact: yesterday I just finished the second draft of Episode 2. Two out of a possible 6.

Actually, while I’ve only completed the second draft of two episodes, I did manage to finish half of Episode 3, so technically I’ve finished 2½ out of 6, which is a little better. Looking my writing productivity over the entire year, however, the numbers are staggering. To finish those 2½ episodes this year, I wrote or revised approximately 475,000 words (that’s a little more than 6 copies of my A Real Piece of Work), and wrote another approximately 30,000 words in the journal of the Big Book and on my blog.

That’s HALF A MILLION words written or rewritten. Not bad for a year’s work.

You might be wondering why I’m prattling on about all of these numbers. Well, here’s the deal: writing novels is as much a numbers game as it is a words game. To finish a novel, any novel, the writer has to consistently write or rewrite a minimum number of words every day. The writer needs to do this for at least three drafts, and the writer needs to work a consistent number of hours each day. Numbers of words, numbers of drafts, numbers of hours.

Back in December, when I entered the seventh year of this project, I realized a couple things. First, if I wanted to meet my goal of finishing the entire book by 2024 or 2025, I had to let go of my desire for perfection in every draft. Instead, by any means—by any dodge, cheat, hack, or positive or negative reinforcement I could conceive—I had to simply finish the second draft of all 6 episodes. This second draft will never be seen by the reading public, I told myself, so in a sense it doesn’t matter. Second I realized that, while I might be the most self-disciplined and self-directed person I know, I still need to have ironclad deadlines; for me, if finish dates are left open-ended, that just gives the perfectionist in me more time to tinker, and f-ck tinkering at this stage.

This stage, this draft, is all about get it the f-ck finished. Period. So, with these two realizations in mind, I have created a production schedule for myself for the rest of the year.

February and March: Finish the second draft of Episode 3.

April, May, June: Finish the second draft of Episode 4.

July, August, September: Finish the second draft of Episode 5.

October, November, December: Finish the second draft of Episode 6.

By December 31, 2022, I want to be finished with the second draft of the entire epic novel. It’s an incredibly daunting goal, but as Lao Tzu once wrote, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” Over the course of 30 years of doing this stuff, I’ve become very good at continuing to make that next step. From one of my ancestors I inherited this ability to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and to finish big projects by completing small task after small task.

Oh, and did I mention that my wife and I recently began hunting for a house again (stress), and that I diagnosed myself as having stupid GERD from my 30 years of coffee-drinking, so I recently had to give up coffee? (One definition of a writer: a machine that converts coffee into words.)

Yeah. It SUUHHHHHHCCCCCCKKKKKSSSS!

But in life, we can either adapt and live (maybe even thrive), or we can stay the same and die. I choose to adapt. It’s Redfin for the house hunt and green tea for the GERD.

Half a league, half a league, half a league onward!

In a recent interview with my best friend Jason Scott (internet archivist, computer historian, filmmaker and now successful podcaster, the brilliant f-cker), Jason says that he has always admired my self-discipline and my “pretty impressive” routine of writing and fitness. Well, as I said in the interview, I’m hardly super-human. As I pointed out in one of my recent blog entries, when I am drawing near to a deadline, the stress (self-imposed stress, but stress nonetheless) usually causes me to overeat and exercise less. For the past month, I’ve only exercised three days a week instead of my usual six, and I’ve been self-soothing through junk food: Jelly Belly Sours, Mike & Ike, Popcorners (cheddar cheese), Newman’s pizzas, and Bread Alone bread. The result is, I’ve probably put on an extra 10 pounds. But, as Wyatt Earp says in the Kevin Costner movie (when he’s come back to Dodge City to clean up the lawlessness), “IT ALL ENDS NOW!”

As soon as I finish this blog entry, I’m going downstairs to my home gym and work out for two hours. Over the years, my wife has (somewhat enviously) pointed out to me that, once I start eating right, drinking a lot of water, and exercising daily, it only takes my body about two weeks to return to its toned, trim status quo. I guess that’s true, but I never noticed it until she started pointing it out. I think it comes from a lifetime of being active; my body just knows the drill by now.

Anyway, this is what the seventh year on the Big Book will look like: daily writing and rewriting; daily nutrition and fitness; daily sobriety and self-care.

Not a lot of drama, to be sure. But as Flaubert once said, “The novelist needs to be regular and orderly in his everyday life so that he can be violent and original on the page.”

And I’m doing that, my friends. By keeping my everyday life consistent and drama-free, I’ve been able to put nearly all of my life force into my writing. As a result, the Big Book is good. I mean really good. Sometimes when I read sections of it over again, I can’t believe I wrote it; it’s that good.

But today until Tuesday, no more Big Book. I’m giving myself a much-needed three-day vacation. A fitness and nutrition vacation (and some Red Dead Redemption 2; thanks for the XBONE, Jay!), with some self-care stuff thrown in there—maybe a massage and a haircut.

Before I go, I’d like to point out one last thing. If this blog entry wasn’t as smooth-reading as others I’ve written in the past, or if it rambles or it contains mistakes that you usually don’t see in my writing, that’s because I only wrote one draft of it. (In the past, revising blog entries three times was not uncommon for me.) In other words, this is me letting go of this need for perfection in all things. Sorry, folks, but it’s a f-cking blog entry; I’m not writing multiple drafts of these things anymore; as you can see from everything I’ve written here, I’ve got a LOT of other writing to do, and I need to save my energy for the Big Book.

Now, with that, it’s time to go exercise, and then, on Tuesday, February 1, it’s back to work.

You’ll hear from me again when I finish Episode 3, which has the apt working subtitle of Danger Zone.