Serial Writing: Impressions after the first post

I did it. Somehow, with only three days or so of preparation, I managed to write the first scene of Zero. It's been a wild adventure already. Apparently that doesn't mean I'm done. I mean, really? Why not? I proved I'm all sorts of insane. Do you really mean that isn't good enough?

No?

Are you sure?

The process of starting this serial up has become a bit of a story all on its own. A whimsical self challenge turned into a very large and notable commitment. The angst associated with not being ready to write the first scene four hours before midnight on the first scheduled posting day. The joys of being too stubborn to give up and wave the white flag of surrender.

At one point, while I was drafting, I asked a friend if it was acceptable for a gun to misfire and kill Zero. I could have written ‘The End' right there! It was brilliant!

The answer, apparently, was no. Completely not fair, if you ask me.

I did get through the first scene. I made some technical errors, which I did correct after posting. (My musical knowledge failed me so I had to change a note. Apparently F-Sharp wasn't allowed. That's OK.  F suffices. It wasn't a critical note anyway.) Lesson learned: If you are wrong on the internet, you will be discovered and called out! The good news? I fixed it. And learned of my ignorance. And poor memory.

The bad news? I think I need to learn how to play the piano now. And reteach myself the basics of music. It's only been ten years since I've touched sheet music. The bad news part two? I can't afford an electronic keyboard. (And being the type of person I am, I wouldn't buy myself a cheapo that'll fall apart fast.) C'est la vie! Another day, month, and year. Maybe when I get rich and famous, I will acquire an awesome electronic keyboard.

Better yet, a baby grand piano. I'll make the room.

The scene has flaws, and a lot of them. But, so does Zero. I look forward to showing people just why I made the choices I did in the first scene in the upcoming ones. Part of me so isn't looking forward to the whimpering involved with trying to polish a freshly drafted piece. It is not easy, and I have a new-found respect for any artist or writer that attempts a serial. It's unforgiving. While I can go back and fix minor typoes (or correct a F-Sharp to F), I can't actually change significant bits. I can't go back and tweak that sentence because I just don't like it. I can't go back and flush in that purple prose part of me wishes I hadn't deleted.

I can't do all of the little things I love about second wave edits. I have to remember to include them in the draft. That's hard.

I learned a lot. That, alone, made it worth it.

 

 

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