Struggling

It's a hard slog.

This essay is giving me grief.  Next to the Major Project a 3,000 word reflective essay should be a doddle.  I mean, I've already written the project so surely all I need to do is say what I did first and then say what I did to make it better.  Sounds easy but my head is all over the place.  The problem is I'm rapidly losing enthusiasm and concentration.  I just want it done so every word is becoming a struggle.

Also, it's forcing me to re-read what I've submitted and every time I read it I get more and more convinced I've failed.  With my confidence already being on the low side I don't need this to make me feel worse.  This is not good.

I can get away with writing 10% less than the 3,000 word requirement so I think I'll take up the option. I'm sitting around 2,000 words at the moment so I really don't have much to do.

I'm determined to get it done tonight.  Then I can edit it tomorrow, write my Personal Development Plan and submit it electronically on Thursday before handing it in on Friday.  In my mind's eye I can see a lovely, big, chilled glass of Pinot just waiting to be downed.  This will be followed by another and another etc - and life will be great.

In reality I'll probably have a sip or two and fall asleep.  That is exactly what happened after I sat my final uni exam

Right.  Enough of this faffing around.

I'll need to be getting on with it if I want to finished tonight.

The Start of the End.

The final push has started.

I've read, taken notes and have probably thought far too much about the Critical Self Reflective essay over the last couple of days.  Now, it's time to start writing it.  I need to exorcise the demon and get it onto paper - but I always find the first sentence is always the hardest.

It shouldn't be too difficult - all I have to do is write 3,000 words about what I did wrong and what I did to put it right.  I've made enough mistakes over the last couple of months I can probably fill a book, and I could sit for hours talking about it.  But it's the old problem.  As soon as I need to write an essay I clam up.  I go into Glasgow Uni essay writing default mode and end up sounding like some half arsed, pseudo academic knob.  I need to relax and write it as me - just a knob.

Okay.  Here goes.  See you on the other side.

1st Hurdle

It's done.

And handed in at eleven o'clock this morning; 19,110 words, twelve versions and three months of my life. Sorted.

I still have to write my Critical Self Reflection essay and sort out my Personal Development Plan.  But that's not due to be handed in until next Friday - which is why I'm currently sitting in the back garden, in the sun sipping an ice cold glass of Pinot.  The madness will reconvene in the morning.
 
Here's an indication of how far I've come.  At the start of the course, if I had a three and a half thousand essay to do I would have started it about five weeks ago and would probably have done three re-writes by now.  Now, after the Major Project, three and a half thousand words is nothing.

It shouldn't be too difficult.  After twelve versions I've made enough mistakes and changes to write about.  As for the Personal Development Plan?  I suppose I should write about how I want to be a fantastic writer (I'd settle for just being a writer though.)  After slogging over the first nineteen thousand words of my Lipton story I really should carry on with the next fifty thousand.  I might start sending it to publishers and agents - all depending on my grade - if I fail it's getting binned.

Again, depending on my grade, I'll contact David Stenhouse, a BBC radio producer.  He came into the uni to talk to us about doing a radio pitch at the beginning of the year.  After the assessments all the class had to pitch our ideas for a radio programme to him.  My idea won - and he said we should keep in touch.  So, you never know what might happen.

I've had a quick glance over my first version of the MP - and it's shit.  Hopefully version twelve is a bit better.

Aaaarrrrgggghhhh

The end is so close I think I might be sick.  There is only one day to go.

But I still haven't finished.

I have never been so late with an assessment in my life.  All through Glasgow Uni I used to think that the people who had to pull an all nighter to get an essay finished should have just bloody well started earlier.

I would like to apologise to every single person who might come into that category.

I started this thing months ago and I've been working flat out.  Even on holiday I didn't have a long lie - ever.  I took a ton of books with me and I spent every morning from about half seven until everyone else got up reading and taking notes - and I still haven't finished.

Tomorrow I need to write my forward chapter breakdown and tie up loose ends - easy!  Em - I really don't think so.

The boys (Dougal and Ross) have been in Athens for the last couple of days.  For supporting Motherwell read having a fucking brilliant time in 35 degrees heat and drinking beer.  But, it's just as well I've had the house to myself - I think I might have committed  murder otherwise.

Last night Ross's girlfriend Megan and I read what I'd written and highlighted the corrections I needed to make.  I drove her home at quarter to one - came home and worked on it till twenty past two and woke up at half past six.  Got up, started working at quarter to seven and was still at it until eight o'clock.  And that was just the corrections. What am I doing wrong?  Is anyone else going through this torture.

And guess what?  I think I might fail. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (maniacal laugh)

WHERE IS MY WINE?????

positive (in very small letters)

Today I had my very last supervision session.  No one has any idea how much I was dreading it - even those I had told over and over again.  But, it wasn't too bad.  In fact, I'd go as far as to say it was good - eventually.

I'd taken plenty of hankies with me because I feared the worst.  I knew that if I started I wouldn't be able to stop.  I was close at one point - my wee lip was beginning to quiver.  It was when Sam asked me how I felt about how I was doing I knew she had an agenda.  I was honest.  I told her I felt sick and was so worried it was making me ill.  She didn't say there, there now, you'll be fine.  She said she felt I'd slipped back from the D1 I'd got for my last assessment and she wasn't sure I fully understood what CNF was.  I totally agreed with her.

But, when we started talking about what she felt was going wrong and how I could put it right the meeting became quite positive.  She helped me to get back to my purpose for writing it, helped sort out the structure and said what I'd written for her was good.  Once I knew she liked what I'd done I began to think I could do this.  I've lost so much confidence in myself over the last couple of months.

She told me I should take a couple of days off and start again on Sunday, even Monday.

WHAT?  Is she mad?  I did relax a bit today because I felt I covered a lot of ground at the session but I need to get straight back onto it tomorrow morning.

I've bought an old, odd roll of wallpaper and glue.  There's not going to be any screen cutting and pasting for me.  I'm doing it for real. With scissors and everything.  The walls are going to be plastered and once I feel I've got the order correct I'll start typing it up.  It might even be good fun - something I've not had for a while.  No doubt photos will be taken.

I still feel I have a couple of things to add but I'm probably over my word limit now so they'll just need to come later on in the book.  Once I'm happy with it I need to re-write and edit it.  It'll take ages.  I reckon I'm going to be still doing it on Thursday.

But if that's what it takes - that's what it takes.

Just six more days - and that's it.  This time next Friday I might not be conscious.  Just saying.

Tears

It had to happen.  There was no way I was going to get through this experience without blubbing like a baby at least a couple of times.  It started the other day and there will be more.

It's all going a bit wrong and I only have about a week to fix it.  I think the major problem is it looks like I don't really know what Creative Non-fiction actually is.  And when you're writing a Creative Non-fiction project that's a bit of a biggie.  I need to be realistic here and prepare myself for the fact that failure is a distinct possibility.  And before anyone reminds me I have to think positively, I'm trying but I'm also being realistic.

I will try my hardest not to fail - I can't think of anything worse.  I got through four years at Glasgow Uni and came out with a 2:1 ( I keep reminding myself of this) but this, for me, has been a lot tougher.

I think my plan has to be,

1. Sort out the structure.
2. Re-write it;- I need to cut a lot out and replace it with a lot more description.  I need to take the reader on a journey, and I need to lose a lot of the 'I'.  While all the time watching out for bad punctuation and repetition.

Sorted.

Hello August - something tells me you're going to be a total bitch.

I think I'd better go and get on with it now - before I start blubbing again..

The Big Countdown

Ten days to go.  Well, there's a wee bit longer but I'm giving myself ten days to get everything down on paper, put into some sort of order, re-written and printed out.  It's not long.  For the first time in my life I might find myself pulling a couple of all nighters.  And if that happens, God help anyone who crosses me.  I need my sleep - without it I'm not responsible for my actions.

This makes me sound like big, bad Anne.  In reality if anyone crosses me I'm more likely to just start crying uncontrollably.  I think the crying might be harder to deal with.

I had a serious wobble the other day.  I started writing about Lipton as if he was a character I could speak to and he replied.  It's quite a nice literary device for a short story but I began to think he sounded like a ghost.  I couldn't imagine writing 20,000 let alone a book like this so I stopped.  Okay - I had a mad panic about it before I stopped, calling people and almost crying but it's sorted now - with some good advice and a lot of wine.

The good thing which came out of it was I think it the prose is a bit lighter and less informationy and it freed my style up a bit.  It now seems a wee bit more interesting - hopefully.

My big problem is still the structure - how I'm going to link it all together into one cohesive whole.  I think it's time to do one of my narrative mapping things to see how it's panning out.  By doing this I can see where the first and third person narration is coming.  It's quite useful. And if that doesn't help I might need to just print it all out and stick it on the walls.  That'll be fun.

I've noticed I haven't give you a Lipton fact recently.  Well did you know the confirmed bachelor was actually married and had a couple of kids?  He kept them quiet.  Oh, and he was meant to be gay.  The marriage and kids can be verified but the gay part can't

Oh God - look at the time.

I'd better get on with it.  Only nine and a half days to go.