Back in July I wrote a post about how I was writing with pen and paper while building the story for the final book of the Black Wax Vampire Trilogy. I mentioned that this method changes my mood and mentality versus when I’m typing on a computer. Creatively, I think this has been very helpful, but as I continue to build this story, my handwritten pages have become difficult to manage and keep organized. To remedy this, I decided to purchase a reMarkable tablet, which allows me to continue writing by hand, but since it’s digital, I can organize all my notes into folders so I can find them more quickly. Another advantage I’ve found is that I can add to notes I had previously written. Often this wasn’t possible when writing on paper because I had already used up the entire sheet, and the next page in my notebook was on a different subject altogether.

Yesterday, I spent hours in the library, going through my paper notes, and taking the segments that are still relevant to my new book and rewriting them into the reMarkable tablet. Today, I’m using it to free write, with the aim of going deeper into what is so far a very simple story.

The reason I chose the reMarkable tablet instead of just getting an iPad was because it feels more like writing on paper rather than writing on glass, but more importantly, because it has no access to emails or social media. I block my access to those things when I write on computer, and so it was nice to be able to stay away from them when writing by hand.

The tablet cost $500 (and the felt case was another $100…$100 for felt? WTF?), but I’m hoping it will help keep my daydreaming organized so that maybe I can become more prolific. With this book in particular, I’m hoping it will help me finish it in under the two plus years each of the first two books took to write.

We shall see.

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For months I had been in stuck in a deep depression that frustrated my therapists, but I knew I just needed to wait out. At the end of October, I felt myself coming out of it, and was relieved. But for the past couple weeks, I think I’ve been in denial—thinking I wasn’t depressed yet again, but I am. And I’m despondent and angry that the respite was so brief. I’m seeing my therapists regularly and it helps, but it’s hard to even get out of bed. Yesterday, I slept for seventeen hours. I’m trying to write, but it’s hard. I have force myself to sit down to write despite how much I love writing Orly. The writing sessions are never long, but they do make me feel a little better—like the whole day wasn’t a waste. Depression is exhausting. It feels like such a struggle that I can only hope I’m able to finish this book. Right now, the pages are few, and the end so far.

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