Ok, after far too many days of just not getting anything going, not sitting down in front of the computer because I was exhausted or time simply slipped away, I finally did it. I wrote. A whopping 400 words, but I wrote.
And, I'm admittedly a little bit stuck, but I've been stuck before, so I'm not stressing about it. Mom's death rocked me pretty hard, but I'd say that I'm doing good. After all, Tuesday came and went this week, and I didn't crumple into a soggy mess. And I slept. Hard. Which was wonderful!
So, I'm treating my comparatively tiny word count to the corking of a wine bottle. Tonight, I figuratively took out my favorite bottle of red, dusted it off and peeled back the foil. The cork has been removed and I'll let my writing "breathe" for the night. Hopefully tomorrow evening I can take some time to sit down and enjoy. But for now, I'm just happy that I got something done, progressed the story a hair. And, was pleasantly surprised when one of my characters did something I didn't expect. Which was perfect.
Thank you.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Can't Count Days Anymore
Forgive me Father, it's been 11 days since my last post.
Yes, it sounds like confession, but really it isn't, it's just the first thing that popped into my head. Day 25 was the last day I wrote my novel. That was the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Monday, I can't even remember much of. Tuesday I'll never forget.
Last Tuesday, November 27th, I headed downstairs to my corner office at 6 am and started my morning pages this way:
"Good Morning Morning Pages. It's Tuesday. Tuesday. Not just any Tuesday, but the Tuesday of all Tuesdays. It's definitely Tuesday. I'm worried about Mom. I haven't heard from her in a few days..."
Little did I know - or is it that I knew exactly - that in about 17 hours two police officers and a clergy would show up at my door, confirming the fear that I had been carrying for days. Mom had died. It's now been 9 days since the "Tuesday of all Tuesdays", and while the shock has faded ( I no longer shake and feel cold all of the time), my heart still hangs heavy in my chest. Not all the time, but it hurts still - and even now. I miss her. Plain and simple. I selfishly feel robbed, but grateful that she can finally have the pain and exhaustion free existence that had been eluding her for 12 years.
The day after the Tuesday of all Tuesdays, the thought entered my head that there is no possible way I can write my novel now. And even as the thought was going through my head, the still voice that sits in the corner patiently told me to not be so hasty. That it's ok to feel that way right now, but at some point, I'll feel differently. My issue was the premise of the story. It is centered around death and what happens afterwards. The day after learning my Mom had passed away, alone in her house, the idea of writing a fiction adventure about death seemed sacrilegious. Or at least down right awful.
My characters respectfully took a leave of absence, they knew better than to intrude on my grieving process. I might lash out at them. Days passed, I cried less often, and at some point Jenna came back, peeking her head through the doorway. She didn't say anything just peeked in, quietly sat down and tried to be invisible. Jake came in shortly later. They didn't say anything for days, just watched me.
Ok, yes, this sounds crazy, but indulge me, will you? It's honestly the way that it feels to me.
Anyway, my characters are being very respectful, giving me time to heal. They know I have my own journey I have to face right now, but I also know that they are growing impatient. They are, after all, teenagers. Weird thing is, I was on a website today, looking for probate lawyers through my work's Employee Assistance Program, and I saw a tab for Scholarships. Feeling like I'd rather look at scholarships and avoid the task of researching a lawyer, I clicked on the tab. And then the most amazing thing happened. Jake was there. Remember when I was creating my characters and I said that I searched for their pictures on Google? Well, apparently the guy, my Jake, who's picture I found on Google, must be a stock photo model or something because he was on that scholarship page. I don't believe in coincidences. That was nothing short of amazing.
And it's not like I was still stuck on the idea of not finishing my novel, I knew I needed to. I need to finish for me. I need to finish for my husband, my kids, my family and friends who have been so supportive. And definitely for Mom. I fear the swift kick in the butt brought down from heaven if I don't follow through and do what is in me to do.
So what I'm saying is this: I hear you Mom. I hear you Jenna and Jake. And I hear you, Great Creator. I will finish my novel. I can't promise I'm going to be able to write nearly every day, at least not right now. But I do promise to write it with honestly, with an open heart, and with the best of my abilities. I do this with honor.
Thank you.
Yes, it sounds like confession, but really it isn't, it's just the first thing that popped into my head. Day 25 was the last day I wrote my novel. That was the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Monday, I can't even remember much of. Tuesday I'll never forget.
Last Tuesday, November 27th, I headed downstairs to my corner office at 6 am and started my morning pages this way:
"Good Morning Morning Pages. It's Tuesday. Tuesday. Not just any Tuesday, but the Tuesday of all Tuesdays. It's definitely Tuesday. I'm worried about Mom. I haven't heard from her in a few days..."
Little did I know - or is it that I knew exactly - that in about 17 hours two police officers and a clergy would show up at my door, confirming the fear that I had been carrying for days. Mom had died. It's now been 9 days since the "Tuesday of all Tuesdays", and while the shock has faded ( I no longer shake and feel cold all of the time), my heart still hangs heavy in my chest. Not all the time, but it hurts still - and even now. I miss her. Plain and simple. I selfishly feel robbed, but grateful that she can finally have the pain and exhaustion free existence that had been eluding her for 12 years.
The day after the Tuesday of all Tuesdays, the thought entered my head that there is no possible way I can write my novel now. And even as the thought was going through my head, the still voice that sits in the corner patiently told me to not be so hasty. That it's ok to feel that way right now, but at some point, I'll feel differently. My issue was the premise of the story. It is centered around death and what happens afterwards. The day after learning my Mom had passed away, alone in her house, the idea of writing a fiction adventure about death seemed sacrilegious. Or at least down right awful.
My characters respectfully took a leave of absence, they knew better than to intrude on my grieving process. I might lash out at them. Days passed, I cried less often, and at some point Jenna came back, peeking her head through the doorway. She didn't say anything just peeked in, quietly sat down and tried to be invisible. Jake came in shortly later. They didn't say anything for days, just watched me.
Ok, yes, this sounds crazy, but indulge me, will you? It's honestly the way that it feels to me.
Anyway, my characters are being very respectful, giving me time to heal. They know I have my own journey I have to face right now, but I also know that they are growing impatient. They are, after all, teenagers. Weird thing is, I was on a website today, looking for probate lawyers through my work's Employee Assistance Program, and I saw a tab for Scholarships. Feeling like I'd rather look at scholarships and avoid the task of researching a lawyer, I clicked on the tab. And then the most amazing thing happened. Jake was there. Remember when I was creating my characters and I said that I searched for their pictures on Google? Well, apparently the guy, my Jake, who's picture I found on Google, must be a stock photo model or something because he was on that scholarship page. I don't believe in coincidences. That was nothing short of amazing.
And it's not like I was still stuck on the idea of not finishing my novel, I knew I needed to. I need to finish for me. I need to finish for my husband, my kids, my family and friends who have been so supportive. And definitely for Mom. I fear the swift kick in the butt brought down from heaven if I don't follow through and do what is in me to do.
So what I'm saying is this: I hear you Mom. I hear you Jenna and Jake. And I hear you, Great Creator. I will finish my novel. I can't promise I'm going to be able to write nearly every day, at least not right now. But I do promise to write it with honestly, with an open heart, and with the best of my abilities. I do this with honor.
Thank you.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Day 25: I Won!! Or Did I?
I have to admit, when I originally set out on this quest to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days, I was thinking I was doing just that. I thought, heck yeah - I should be able to do that, if I concentrate, stay motivated and believe in myself, I can do it! And I did. Absolutely.
Around noon on Day 24, I hit the 50,000 word mark! I was engrossed in a pretty intense scene, it was coming together, I was having fun. Then, out of the corner of my eye, a little ballon pops up in the corner of my Scrivener page that says "Project Target of 50,000 words reached."
Holy Shit! I did it! I reached the 50k mark! Which in NaNoWriMo terms, means I WON! Since November 1st, I never had a doubt that I would reach it. I may have had doubts about the quality of work, but never that I wouldn't be able to make that mark. Still, the rush of adrenaline that I felt was ... well, nothing short of fabulous! I finished the scene that I was working on, then went downstairs and did a happy dance in the kitchen and high fived my husband and son. I celebrated with tasty turkey soup and hot chocolate and then went back upstairs to write some more.
After all, the story isn't finished yet.
Which now brings me to my next point. Why, NaNoWriMo, did you choose 50k as the word count? I read somewhere that they chose that amount because it was the average length of a novel. Really? All the places that I've researched, as well as my Scrivener program, says that a 50k word count equates to roughly 140 paperback pages. I don't know about you, but I have no idea the last time I read something that was only 140 pages. Maybe "Because of Winn Dixie", who's target audience is grade school.
And now for the honesty bit. I am feeling disappointed. I believed that 50k was the average novel length and that my story was probably going to have to be 2-3 books. And I was good with that. But now, if all the other sources are correct, I can probably fit it all into one without any problem. Which is ok, I just thought I was nearing the end of an actual novel. Anyway, I feel like I was being delusional when I thought I would write a novel in one month. Nope. That didn't happen.
That being said, here's some more honesty for you. Regardless of my lower lip extending out in a 5 year old's pout, I am still completely in love with writing this novel! Yes, there have been times when I felt stuck, like the story was coming out like a sideways birth, but more often than not, it's incredibly fun! I love the world of stories! I love watching them unfold, enjoying the journey, discovering the truths and the lies. Right now, no matter what happens with this novel or anything else I do or don't do in the future, I am contributing to this process. I laid awake in bed this morning thinking about my story like I do any book that I'm reading but haven't finished yet. My characters are living to me. Their situation, while definitely fantasy, is real to me. The only thing that's different is that I'm the one at the keyboard. It's my fingers that are striking the keys. I am making a contribution to a world that I love. And for that I am eternally grateful!
So what now? I figure a more realistic word count is somewhere in the neighborhood of 100k words. If I did 50k in 24 days could I finish by Dec 31st? Yeah, I think that might be pushing it. I had a vacation and a four day weekend in November. December has one extra day off which I will likely not be writing through. The month is consumed with my favorite holiday of the year. But, being the accomplishment oriented gal that I am, I know I need to set a new target, so might as well do that one. If my story wraps up before the 100k words, or if it's almost but not quite there at 100k, that's cool. I'd rather have a target than some malleable, free floating idea or a "someday" thing.
And when I type the figurative "The End", I can officially call myself a novelist. And there will be cake!
Around noon on Day 24, I hit the 50,000 word mark! I was engrossed in a pretty intense scene, it was coming together, I was having fun. Then, out of the corner of my eye, a little ballon pops up in the corner of my Scrivener page that says "Project Target of 50,000 words reached."Holy Shit! I did it! I reached the 50k mark! Which in NaNoWriMo terms, means I WON! Since November 1st, I never had a doubt that I would reach it. I may have had doubts about the quality of work, but never that I wouldn't be able to make that mark. Still, the rush of adrenaline that I felt was ... well, nothing short of fabulous! I finished the scene that I was working on, then went downstairs and did a happy dance in the kitchen and high fived my husband and son. I celebrated with tasty turkey soup and hot chocolate and then went back upstairs to write some more.
After all, the story isn't finished yet.
Which now brings me to my next point. Why, NaNoWriMo, did you choose 50k as the word count? I read somewhere that they chose that amount because it was the average length of a novel. Really? All the places that I've researched, as well as my Scrivener program, says that a 50k word count equates to roughly 140 paperback pages. I don't know about you, but I have no idea the last time I read something that was only 140 pages. Maybe "Because of Winn Dixie", who's target audience is grade school.
And now for the honesty bit. I am feeling disappointed. I believed that 50k was the average novel length and that my story was probably going to have to be 2-3 books. And I was good with that. But now, if all the other sources are correct, I can probably fit it all into one without any problem. Which is ok, I just thought I was nearing the end of an actual novel. Anyway, I feel like I was being delusional when I thought I would write a novel in one month. Nope. That didn't happen.
That being said, here's some more honesty for you. Regardless of my lower lip extending out in a 5 year old's pout, I am still completely in love with writing this novel! Yes, there have been times when I felt stuck, like the story was coming out like a sideways birth, but more often than not, it's incredibly fun! I love the world of stories! I love watching them unfold, enjoying the journey, discovering the truths and the lies. Right now, no matter what happens with this novel or anything else I do or don't do in the future, I am contributing to this process. I laid awake in bed this morning thinking about my story like I do any book that I'm reading but haven't finished yet. My characters are living to me. Their situation, while definitely fantasy, is real to me. The only thing that's different is that I'm the one at the keyboard. It's my fingers that are striking the keys. I am making a contribution to a world that I love. And for that I am eternally grateful!
So what now? I figure a more realistic word count is somewhere in the neighborhood of 100k words. If I did 50k in 24 days could I finish by Dec 31st? Yeah, I think that might be pushing it. I had a vacation and a four day weekend in November. December has one extra day off which I will likely not be writing through. The month is consumed with my favorite holiday of the year. But, being the accomplishment oriented gal that I am, I know I need to set a new target, so might as well do that one. If my story wraps up before the 100k words, or if it's almost but not quite there at 100k, that's cool. I'd rather have a target than some malleable, free floating idea or a "someday" thing.
And when I type the figurative "The End", I can officially call myself a novelist. And there will be cake!
Monday, November 19, 2012
Day 19: Stuck or Fine?
It seems to me someone, somewhere had said that writing a novel is a manic process. And if they didn't, I'm saying now. Someone else can quote me. Or not.
Here's the thing, at times the story flows and I'm just along for the ride. My characters know exactly what to do and say, situations make perfect sense and I don't even realize that I'm typing. I'm reading. That's how smooth it goes. Other times I put my characters in a room, or on a mountain top, and they look at me like I'm a complete idiot. I might have said that before. It simply bears repeating. Anyway, the story doesn't flow. It's staccato. It's sharp, jagged phrases that come out arthritic. Today, my writing definitely needed some Icy-Hot. Arthritis all over the place.
It's felt like that for days now. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm definitely in a slump, one that is irritating the crap out of me. I'm getting words in, the story is progressing, but it's like yanking a baby out of the womb who's too comfy to leave. It comes out kicking, screaming and just generally pissed off. Where's my gentle water birth? Ok. Maybe that's a bad metaphor. See what I mean?
I've taken the time to go back and read over these painful scenes, and honestly, they're not half bad. I wouldn't call them brilliant by a long shot, but there's some goods in there. So what's the deal? Is my writing stuck or is fine and it just hard right now because it can't always be like I'm reading? Maybe.
It also bothers me that I can't tell how close I am to the end of the story. Do I split it in two-three stories or do I try to fit it all into one. Have I said that before, too? Again, maybe. I feel like I'm thinking in circles and writing in triangles. If that makes any since. It probably doesn't.
I'm going to bed.
Today's Word Count: 1,476
Total November: 43,599
Words to Hit 50k: 6,401
P.S. If you run into my characters on the street, please tell them to be nice to me. I'm trying really hard.
Here's the thing, at times the story flows and I'm just along for the ride. My characters know exactly what to do and say, situations make perfect sense and I don't even realize that I'm typing. I'm reading. That's how smooth it goes. Other times I put my characters in a room, or on a mountain top, and they look at me like I'm a complete idiot. I might have said that before. It simply bears repeating. Anyway, the story doesn't flow. It's staccato. It's sharp, jagged phrases that come out arthritic. Today, my writing definitely needed some Icy-Hot. Arthritis all over the place.
It's felt like that for days now. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm definitely in a slump, one that is irritating the crap out of me. I'm getting words in, the story is progressing, but it's like yanking a baby out of the womb who's too comfy to leave. It comes out kicking, screaming and just generally pissed off. Where's my gentle water birth? Ok. Maybe that's a bad metaphor. See what I mean?
I've taken the time to go back and read over these painful scenes, and honestly, they're not half bad. I wouldn't call them brilliant by a long shot, but there's some goods in there. So what's the deal? Is my writing stuck or is fine and it just hard right now because it can't always be like I'm reading? Maybe.
It also bothers me that I can't tell how close I am to the end of the story. Do I split it in two-three stories or do I try to fit it all into one. Have I said that before, too? Again, maybe. I feel like I'm thinking in circles and writing in triangles. If that makes any since. It probably doesn't.
I'm going to bed.
Today's Word Count: 1,476
Total November: 43,599
Words to Hit 50k: 6,401
P.S. If you run into my characters on the street, please tell them to be nice to me. I'm trying really hard.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Day 15: Reflection
Ok, after a rough morning, I did get some writing going. My characters are out of their slump and stuff is starting to happen again. The idea that my story has holes right now really bugs me though, and I can't help but think I would have been better off with a stronger outline, one that goes into more detail about the ins and outs of what's happening in the story. Less of a skeleton. It needed some meat. But, not much I can do about that now, but move forward and catch it all on the rewrite.
I can't help but wonder how this works for "real" authors. The ones that are privileged to call this their vocation. The ones that stay home to write, that create novels, rework them, send them to their breathlessly waiting editor. How much do they accomplish in a day? I remember reading one that said that her goal was 600 words a day. Ok, so that was her minimum, but seriously? That makes me wonder if I'm writing crap or if I'm just able to pour a bunch out - prolific. Maybe it's both? Eh...
Today I wrote just over 3k words. I had this idea in my head that if I stayed home, didn't leave for work, I would write tons. All that time, typing. It just didn't work that way. I run into walls, I try to tell my characters what to do and they look at me like I'm dumb. I write something I really like, then stare at the screen for a half hour before I realize that I don't "have" it at the moment and take a break. I seem to be good for a two hour stretch. And maybe I can fit in two of those two hour stretches if I handle it right. Beyond that, I'm one dried out sponge.
Oh well, what can I do? I know there's no right or wrong way to do this, but the doing is the important thing. And I have to say, I am having a tremendous amount of fun, even when I'm feeling a bit frustrated. So, there is that!
Today's Word Count: 3,050
Total November Count: 38,692
Words to hit 50,000: 11,308
I can't help but wonder how this works for "real" authors. The ones that are privileged to call this their vocation. The ones that stay home to write, that create novels, rework them, send them to their breathlessly waiting editor. How much do they accomplish in a day? I remember reading one that said that her goal was 600 words a day. Ok, so that was her minimum, but seriously? That makes me wonder if I'm writing crap or if I'm just able to pour a bunch out - prolific. Maybe it's both? Eh...
Today I wrote just over 3k words. I had this idea in my head that if I stayed home, didn't leave for work, I would write tons. All that time, typing. It just didn't work that way. I run into walls, I try to tell my characters what to do and they look at me like I'm dumb. I write something I really like, then stare at the screen for a half hour before I realize that I don't "have" it at the moment and take a break. I seem to be good for a two hour stretch. And maybe I can fit in two of those two hour stretches if I handle it right. Beyond that, I'm one dried out sponge.
Oh well, what can I do? I know there's no right or wrong way to do this, but the doing is the important thing. And I have to say, I am having a tremendous amount of fun, even when I'm feeling a bit frustrated. So, there is that!
Today's Word Count: 3,050
Total November Count: 38,692
Words to hit 50,000: 11,308
Day 15: Morning Grumblings
Even as I sit here writing this post, I know I should be working on my novel. I've made incredible progress, as of last night over 35,000 words in 14 days, and I have to be proud of that! But I feel like my story is in a serious slump and that I've created lame inconsistencies in my plot line. Which is frustrating.
A huge part of me wants to go back and rewrite the last 10,000 or so words, or at least do some serious revising. This is the Soccer Mom I mentioned earlier, who strives for ridiculous perfection, and expects nothing but the best from her little girl. I think my hippie mom is sleeping in, or her head is too foggy to make a strong argument, because she's not being very convincing. Probably a side effect of her laid back nature.
I feel like I should have planned this story out a little bit better. It was going along so great, getting to the fun and adventure part of the story line, my characters were telling me what they wanted, it all made sense - and now they are just foundering in this cabin looking at me like I let them down. "You're the author, what the heck do you want us to do now? You've beaten this idea to death, move on already!"
I hear you, I'm just at a loss of where to go now. Poo.
So, I guess I need to find a new mother in me right now. The one that's encouraging to my soul, the one that whispers in my ear, squeezes my shoulders and says, "You got this, I believe in you."
Come on, inner Mom. Help me out, will you?
A huge part of me wants to go back and rewrite the last 10,000 or so words, or at least do some serious revising. This is the Soccer Mom I mentioned earlier, who strives for ridiculous perfection, and expects nothing but the best from her little girl. I think my hippie mom is sleeping in, or her head is too foggy to make a strong argument, because she's not being very convincing. Probably a side effect of her laid back nature.
I feel like I should have planned this story out a little bit better. It was going along so great, getting to the fun and adventure part of the story line, my characters were telling me what they wanted, it all made sense - and now they are just foundering in this cabin looking at me like I let them down. "You're the author, what the heck do you want us to do now? You've beaten this idea to death, move on already!"
I hear you, I'm just at a loss of where to go now. Poo.
So, I guess I need to find a new mother in me right now. The one that's encouraging to my soul, the one that whispers in my ear, squeezes my shoulders and says, "You got this, I believe in you."
Come on, inner Mom. Help me out, will you?
Monday, November 12, 2012
Day 12: Rituals I Have Adopted
I remember when I bought this desk that I sit at now. It was right before I turned 40. I had a grand idea that this was the year I was going to get serious about writing. I asked my Mom to join in with me, she also has a love of words, and she was turning 65. Perfect. Those were some good milestone birthdays to get some real stuff done!
We wrote some, I think she may have wrote more than me. I kept thinking of getting myself set up, the things I needed to do while writing to create the mood or inspire the muse. It didn't take long for the flame of my newly sparked passion to douse, probably under the weight of lofty expectations. Anyway, the desk became a place that would look at me out of the corner of it's eye, sticking it's tongue out. Yet another reminder that I started something and didn't finish.
Damn it.
However, I can happily report that this is where I do the majority of my writing today. I've reached the halfway point in my novel. This is the furthest I have ever gotten and I have plenty left to say! What thrills me, among other things, is that every word I write, I take my story closer to completion. It's inevitable. Much like when I ran (or rather jog/walked) the marathon the very next year, before I turned 41, there came a point where every step I took was the furthest I had ever gotten. It's exhilarating!
What's also funny is that I've found I've adopted some writing rituals. Much like the things that the "how to" books told me I should, I had unconsciously created some atmosphere at my desk (or of course, what I like to call my Second Floor Office. Because it makes me laugh). When I'm ready to get down to business, I make sure I have a beverage at my side. This is either water, coffee or tea. Surprising to me, this is never wine or beer. It just doesn't seem right. Like drinking and driving. I light a candle because I like the smell. It's winter now and everything is trapped in the house: dinner, dogs, four teenagers. You get the picture. Plus I've been negligent in my cleaning duties. Then I flip on this lamp that shines a bright green light on my face. Don't ask me why, it won't make much sense, but lets just say that it makes me feel comforted. I may roll my stocking feet on a spiky foot massager, take a drink of my tasty beverage, think about what the heck I'm going to do to my characters next and dive in. In about two hours I've likely humiliated, empowered and enlightened them just a bit. My job is done for the moment. I smile, blow out my candle and take a break. Lovely.
Today's Word Count: 4,296
Total for November: 25,820
Words to 50,000 Goal: 24,180
We wrote some, I think she may have wrote more than me. I kept thinking of getting myself set up, the things I needed to do while writing to create the mood or inspire the muse. It didn't take long for the flame of my newly sparked passion to douse, probably under the weight of lofty expectations. Anyway, the desk became a place that would look at me out of the corner of it's eye, sticking it's tongue out. Yet another reminder that I started something and didn't finish.
Damn it.
However, I can happily report that this is where I do the majority of my writing today. I've reached the halfway point in my novel. This is the furthest I have ever gotten and I have plenty left to say! What thrills me, among other things, is that every word I write, I take my story closer to completion. It's inevitable. Much like when I ran (or rather jog/walked) the marathon the very next year, before I turned 41, there came a point where every step I took was the furthest I had ever gotten. It's exhilarating!What's also funny is that I've found I've adopted some writing rituals. Much like the things that the "how to" books told me I should, I had unconsciously created some atmosphere at my desk (or of course, what I like to call my Second Floor Office. Because it makes me laugh). When I'm ready to get down to business, I make sure I have a beverage at my side. This is either water, coffee or tea. Surprising to me, this is never wine or beer. It just doesn't seem right. Like drinking and driving. I light a candle because I like the smell. It's winter now and everything is trapped in the house: dinner, dogs, four teenagers. You get the picture. Plus I've been negligent in my cleaning duties. Then I flip on this lamp that shines a bright green light on my face. Don't ask me why, it won't make much sense, but lets just say that it makes me feel comforted. I may roll my stocking feet on a spiky foot massager, take a drink of my tasty beverage, think about what the heck I'm going to do to my characters next and dive in. In about two hours I've likely humiliated, empowered and enlightened them just a bit. My job is done for the moment. I smile, blow out my candle and take a break. Lovely.
Today's Word Count: 4,296
Total for November: 25,820
Words to 50,000 Goal: 24,180
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Day 10 - Explaining...
Forgive me if my post here is a bit flat. I've been in my head for nearly four hours now, writing and trying to explain elements in the story which are not easily explainable. I finished two very difficult scenes today, ones that I was not really looking forward to because I knew they would be tough.
This is right about the furthest point in a novel I have ever written. I get to this point - the explaining point - and my confidence takes a side step. In the past, it checked out all together. I loose steam, loose the drive. I loose faith. My inner critic whispers in my ear, letting me know that I was dumb to think I could write a novel. "Who the hell are you to write a novel?" he says. "Your ideas are stupid. They don't hold water. Anyone who bothers to read this crap that you're writing is just going to laugh. Or worse, they won't say anything at all and change the subject." My critic is very convincing. Ask my three other novels. They'll tell you.
My critic definitely showed up today. He sat behind me on our bed and laughed under his breath when I tried to explain what was happening to these kids. He told me my dialogue sucked, that my idea was juvenile and that I was never going to get anywhere.
Then I punched him in the face and kept writing.
Is what I wrote any good? Honestly, I have no idea. But I wrote it. I got past the explanation scenes. I got past the doubts and kept writing. Maybe I'll go back and read it later, see what I have, but I think I'll not do that for a while. My inner critic might come back for revenge. For now, he's nursing a broken nose and a broken ego. Serves him right.
Today's Word Count: 3,647
Total November WC: 17,625
Words to go to hit 50,000: 32,375
This is right about the furthest point in a novel I have ever written. I get to this point - the explaining point - and my confidence takes a side step. In the past, it checked out all together. I loose steam, loose the drive. I loose faith. My inner critic whispers in my ear, letting me know that I was dumb to think I could write a novel. "Who the hell are you to write a novel?" he says. "Your ideas are stupid. They don't hold water. Anyone who bothers to read this crap that you're writing is just going to laugh. Or worse, they won't say anything at all and change the subject." My critic is very convincing. Ask my three other novels. They'll tell you.
My critic definitely showed up today. He sat behind me on our bed and laughed under his breath when I tried to explain what was happening to these kids. He told me my dialogue sucked, that my idea was juvenile and that I was never going to get anywhere.
Then I punched him in the face and kept writing.
Is what I wrote any good? Honestly, I have no idea. But I wrote it. I got past the explanation scenes. I got past the doubts and kept writing. Maybe I'll go back and read it later, see what I have, but I think I'll not do that for a while. My inner critic might come back for revenge. For now, he's nursing a broken nose and a broken ego. Serves him right.
Today's Word Count: 3,647
Total November WC: 17,625
Words to go to hit 50,000: 32,375
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Day Eight: Moving On...
Ok, it's way past my bedtime, so I'm going to make this short. I think I know part of the reason why I was so weirded out by writing the scene where all the kids die. Yes, there was definitely finality to it, and it was an odd place to be, the person that creates and decides this fate. But also, I hadn't the foggiest idea how I was going to transition to the next phase of the story. I was stuck, or struck. Not sure which, but there I was.
The answer came to me this morning while I was in the shower. I used to think that I was the only person who felt that her muse was the shower, but come to find out, those mindless tasks that you do every day open you up to ideas and answers that had eluded you earlier. Anyway, as I massaged shampoo through my hair, the solutions started coming to me. As I dried off, another piece of the puzzle presented itself. I considered skipping my morning pages and almost went straight to writing down what I had discovered, but the thought of missing a day of those pages seemed like a particularly bad idea - especially now.
So, I used them to work out my thoughts. At 8:30 tonight, I finally got the chance to sit down to my computer and breathe the new life, the next era, into my novel. And it felt really, really good.
Today's Word Count: 1,778
Total November Count: 13,978
Words to hit 50,000 Goal: 36,022
The answer came to me this morning while I was in the shower. I used to think that I was the only person who felt that her muse was the shower, but come to find out, those mindless tasks that you do every day open you up to ideas and answers that had eluded you earlier. Anyway, as I massaged shampoo through my hair, the solutions started coming to me. As I dried off, another piece of the puzzle presented itself. I considered skipping my morning pages and almost went straight to writing down what I had discovered, but the thought of missing a day of those pages seemed like a particularly bad idea - especially now.
So, I used them to work out my thoughts. At 8:30 tonight, I finally got the chance to sit down to my computer and breathe the new life, the next era, into my novel. And it felt really, really good.
Today's Word Count: 1,778
Total November Count: 13,978
Words to hit 50,000 Goal: 36,022
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Day Seven - I've Killed the Kids
It took exactly 898 words to kill 60 kids and three adults. It took two hours, an Italian meat panini, a cup of mango tea and a whole lot of rubbing my forehead. I hope I wiped my fingers off before I rubbed. There may be panini juice on my skin.
So, now that's done. And I feel weird. I wish I describe what I'm feeling right now. I'm honestly not sure. These are the things I know:
So, now that's done. And I feel weird. I wish I describe what I'm feeling right now. I'm honestly not sure. These are the things I know:
- My characters are not real, they exist only in my head. But I still feel like a creep for killing them. I made them up and it was my idea.
- I've been in a pretty serious car crash, I do know what it feels like. This is a bus crash and mimics one of my personal fears - sailing off a high bridge. Did I do it justice?
- I killed my kids. At this very moment, they are all dead. I feel stalled. I have plenty more to say, but I feel like I need to not say anything else tonight. Is that out of respect? I have no idea, but it feels that way.
This is weird. I'm not trying to be dramatic, I'm not trying to make more of it than it is, I honestly just don't know what to do about this or the weird feeling that I have about it. 898 words to kill 63 people. Somehow, that bothers me. It shouldn't, but it does.
I'm going to sleep on it. Hopefully, I will find the way to roll the story into the next phase.
Todays Word Count: 898
Total Nov Word Count: 12,200
Words to hit 50,000: 37,800
Monday, November 5, 2012
Day Five is Done
I can't stop thinking about how I'm about to kill off a bus load of teenagers. I wrote a few more early scenes tonight, dug a little deeper into a few of the relationships, and I'm realizing that tomorrow I'm going to have to do it. They are about to board the bus for the last time and with some (hopefully) carefully orchestrated key strokes, 60 kids are going to plunge to their death in the exact same way that I run through my head in my own nightmares: off the edge of a tall bridge into deep icy waters.
And that's when the real story will start.
For now, they'll keep. Frozen in the grocery store parking lot until I let them get on the bus. They'll get comfortable, they'll get warm, they'll die.
Am I a creep?
Not going to lie, I'm a little weirded out by the whole thing. But the story that's in my head depends on this one thing, so I'm going to have to do it. Hm. It's also election day. If I were more politically minded, I might draw some connections, but I'm naturally suspicious of all politicians, so I don't think that matters to me much.
Anyway, sleep tight. I'm actually saying that to myself. Everyone else is in bed - and if someone is actually reading this well ... either sleep tight or hope you slept well. Tomorrow is the day of the dead.
Today's Word Count: 2,925
Total Nov Word Count: 10,565
Words to go to hit 50,000: 39,435
And that's when the real story will start.
For now, they'll keep. Frozen in the grocery store parking lot until I let them get on the bus. They'll get comfortable, they'll get warm, they'll die.
Am I a creep?
Not going to lie, I'm a little weirded out by the whole thing. But the story that's in my head depends on this one thing, so I'm going to have to do it. Hm. It's also election day. If I were more politically minded, I might draw some connections, but I'm naturally suspicious of all politicians, so I don't think that matters to me much.
Anyway, sleep tight. I'm actually saying that to myself. Everyone else is in bed - and if someone is actually reading this well ... either sleep tight or hope you slept well. Tomorrow is the day of the dead.
Today's Word Count: 2,925
Total Nov Word Count: 10,565
Words to go to hit 50,000: 39,435
Day Five's Morning Thoughts-Shooting for Trees or Stars
Ok, I'm going to warn you ahead of time that this may be a meandering mess of thought, but's 7:18 in the morning and I need to get dressed and get my butt off to work - however this idea will not leave me alone and I feel like I should simply put it here and let it go so I can have some peace about it.
How do I even start?
So, here's the thing. I have this feeling that there are those that feel that it's better lower your expectations about what it is that you're doing in order not to get your heart broken when you don't reach or achieve your dream. I think this holds true for most endeavors in people's lives, but I think the creative ones are particularly afflicted with this premise because the thought of making money doing something outside of the "norm" and that's fun seems like a long shot. And it probably is. Does that mean you shouldn't try?
Hell no.
I was thinking this morning about people who say, "write for fun, don't expect to get anywhere with it, just enjoy the act." I know this is also said about creating music, creating works of art, etc. And yes, there certainly is a point in this. However, why can't you write for fun and strive to achieve greatness at the same time? Why couldn't you pick up a guitar and play with conviction, wanting to succeed in what ever form that success means to you? Why can't we want both for ourselves? Because if we don't achieve our goals, become published, support ourselves with our art and still enjoy it, we will be heartbroken?
That's crap.
What happened to living life to it's fullest potential? Loving with abandon? Because it hurts when it's taken away? Yes, we are human and we will get hurt. If you open yourself up and try, take chances and end up getting hurt, crushed even, isn't that better than walling your heart up and never feeling anything?
So, for those who say it's better to lower your expectations and not get disappointed when things don't turn out the way you think they will - I say, that's fine if it works for you. I would much rather shoot for the stars and land on the treetops knowing that I gave it all I could than to shoot for the tree tops, land there and look up at the starts always wondering "what if". I would rather break my own heart than to not let it feel the thrill of simply being alive.
And because I feel this is important, I've decided to wait to kill off my bus load of kids. If I do it now, no one will care. I need to take a few steps back and better establish my characters and their relationships. Because once that bus crashes, there's no going back and the reader better damn well care about that - or should I say, I'd better give the reader enough so that they actually can care about it, otherwise I'm just hanging out on some branches. I better strive for some atmosphere here!
How do I even start?
So, here's the thing. I have this feeling that there are those that feel that it's better lower your expectations about what it is that you're doing in order not to get your heart broken when you don't reach or achieve your dream. I think this holds true for most endeavors in people's lives, but I think the creative ones are particularly afflicted with this premise because the thought of making money doing something outside of the "norm" and that's fun seems like a long shot. And it probably is. Does that mean you shouldn't try?
Hell no.
I was thinking this morning about people who say, "write for fun, don't expect to get anywhere with it, just enjoy the act." I know this is also said about creating music, creating works of art, etc. And yes, there certainly is a point in this. However, why can't you write for fun and strive to achieve greatness at the same time? Why couldn't you pick up a guitar and play with conviction, wanting to succeed in what ever form that success means to you? Why can't we want both for ourselves? Because if we don't achieve our goals, become published, support ourselves with our art and still enjoy it, we will be heartbroken?
That's crap.
What happened to living life to it's fullest potential? Loving with abandon? Because it hurts when it's taken away? Yes, we are human and we will get hurt. If you open yourself up and try, take chances and end up getting hurt, crushed even, isn't that better than walling your heart up and never feeling anything?
So, for those who say it's better to lower your expectations and not get disappointed when things don't turn out the way you think they will - I say, that's fine if it works for you. I would much rather shoot for the stars and land on the treetops knowing that I gave it all I could than to shoot for the tree tops, land there and look up at the starts always wondering "what if". I would rather break my own heart than to not let it feel the thrill of simply being alive.
And because I feel this is important, I've decided to wait to kill off my bus load of kids. If I do it now, no one will care. I need to take a few steps back and better establish my characters and their relationships. Because once that bus crashes, there's no going back and the reader better damn well care about that - or should I say, I'd better give the reader enough so that they actually can care about it, otherwise I'm just hanging out on some branches. I better strive for some atmosphere here!
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Day Four
Perhaps I should be posting every day how I feel about the process of writing a novel in 30 days, but I have a feeling it's going to be way too repetitious. So, perhaps an update every few days or when something is changing, or it simply occurs to me would suffice.
Four days in and I have to say, it's going really well! I already told you that day one was great, it was actually more than I had expected. The second day I attended my first "Write In". I had imagined this was going to consist of several like-minded writers banging away at their laptops, feeding off of each other's creative energy. What it was, for me at least, was very distracting. I'm finding that I really have to have very little noise around me in order to hear what the story is, what my characters were saying. I need to dive in, submerge, and come up for air only when I need to. This paddling and splashing around on the surface was frustrating for me. I applaud those that can write that way, I just don't think I'm one of them. That day I wrote a scene, consisting of 1,800 or so words. So it was still productive, but I felt a bit disconnected from what I was doing.
Day Three held a different kind of activity, entailing moving my mom into her new house. This was an all day event, with my husband, my son and two of his friends helping. I think I can speak for all of us when I say that by 5pm that night, we were all exhausted, sore, but felt immensely satisfied. Anyway, I was super tired so I took the day off.
Today, Sunday and Day Four, went really well. Here's the thing. I wrote a scene which dug a little deeper into my characters, giving the reader (assuming at some point someone other than me will read this) some more background and idea of who these people are. Then I took a break to find a way to watch the Walking Dead.
I know this has nothing to do with writing a novel, but I'm determined to find a way to watch that group of survivors meet up in this new prison place and battle zombies and human nature. I do not miss having regular TV at all. We have NBC and a couple others, so I'll watch something from time to time, but I really don't care about TV. I do care about these dang survivors and their stories. It's really irritating to me that I can't stream the episodes on AMC's website, watch them on Hulu or Hulu Plus, or rent them from Amazon without buying "Prime" service, which is about $100. I thought I'd bite the bullet and buy the episodes on ITunes, but the stinkin' HDMI cable that I bought doesn't want to work. We hooked up the Mac with a regular monitor cable and an auxiliary cord, but all of the episodes are in HD and the monitor cable can't handle it. So, I'm frustrated. Is it too much to ask for a good show to be watched in some normal fashion on the new fangled TVs without having to fork out $100 plus $3.00 an episode? For cryin' out loud.
But I digress. After dinner I headed up to the Upstairs Office and wrote the next scene. I think it's pretty good, showing areas of future regret for my main character as well as some decent foreshadowing. The next scene is where I have to kill off a bus load of teenagers. In a way, I'm really excited to write that! In another way, I'm a bit terrified I'm not going to do the scene justice. It's the inciting incident in my story line and if it's not done well, that would.... well, it would suck.
However, I'll remind myself that this is a first draft and I can go back later and revisit the fatal bus scene and make it scarier or more vivid. Tomorrow night is another Write In. This one is at a different location and I'm tempted to give it a shot, maybe it will be better this time. But considering I have to kill 60 or so people tomorrow, I might want to do that in the privacy of my own home. I'm not sure how I'm going to react. ;)
Total November Word Count at the end of Day Four: 7,640
Words to go to hit 50,000 goal: 42,360
Four days in and I have to say, it's going really well! I already told you that day one was great, it was actually more than I had expected. The second day I attended my first "Write In". I had imagined this was going to consist of several like-minded writers banging away at their laptops, feeding off of each other's creative energy. What it was, for me at least, was very distracting. I'm finding that I really have to have very little noise around me in order to hear what the story is, what my characters were saying. I need to dive in, submerge, and come up for air only when I need to. This paddling and splashing around on the surface was frustrating for me. I applaud those that can write that way, I just don't think I'm one of them. That day I wrote a scene, consisting of 1,800 or so words. So it was still productive, but I felt a bit disconnected from what I was doing.
Day Three held a different kind of activity, entailing moving my mom into her new house. This was an all day event, with my husband, my son and two of his friends helping. I think I can speak for all of us when I say that by 5pm that night, we were all exhausted, sore, but felt immensely satisfied. Anyway, I was super tired so I took the day off.
Today, Sunday and Day Four, went really well. Here's the thing. I wrote a scene which dug a little deeper into my characters, giving the reader (assuming at some point someone other than me will read this) some more background and idea of who these people are. Then I took a break to find a way to watch the Walking Dead.
I know this has nothing to do with writing a novel, but I'm determined to find a way to watch that group of survivors meet up in this new prison place and battle zombies and human nature. I do not miss having regular TV at all. We have NBC and a couple others, so I'll watch something from time to time, but I really don't care about TV. I do care about these dang survivors and their stories. It's really irritating to me that I can't stream the episodes on AMC's website, watch them on Hulu or Hulu Plus, or rent them from Amazon without buying "Prime" service, which is about $100. I thought I'd bite the bullet and buy the episodes on ITunes, but the stinkin' HDMI cable that I bought doesn't want to work. We hooked up the Mac with a regular monitor cable and an auxiliary cord, but all of the episodes are in HD and the monitor cable can't handle it. So, I'm frustrated. Is it too much to ask for a good show to be watched in some normal fashion on the new fangled TVs without having to fork out $100 plus $3.00 an episode? For cryin' out loud.But I digress. After dinner I headed up to the Upstairs Office and wrote the next scene. I think it's pretty good, showing areas of future regret for my main character as well as some decent foreshadowing. The next scene is where I have to kill off a bus load of teenagers. In a way, I'm really excited to write that! In another way, I'm a bit terrified I'm not going to do the scene justice. It's the inciting incident in my story line and if it's not done well, that would.... well, it would suck.
However, I'll remind myself that this is a first draft and I can go back later and revisit the fatal bus scene and make it scarier or more vivid. Tomorrow night is another Write In. This one is at a different location and I'm tempted to give it a shot, maybe it will be better this time. But considering I have to kill 60 or so people tomorrow, I might want to do that in the privacy of my own home. I'm not sure how I'm going to react. ;)
Total November Word Count at the end of Day Four: 7,640
Words to go to hit 50,000 goal: 42,360
Thursday, November 1, 2012
NaNoWriMo Begins!
November 1st has finally come! I waited patiently all day, even exercised after work, made and ate dinner. I was biding my time until I can go to the Second Floor Office and begin my novel. I'm not going to lie, while I was eating dinner I was having doubts that I would be able to spit any words out at all. I had no idea, no first line that comes spilling out. I'm usually good at first lines.When the time came, I took a minute and said a quiet prayer, that Jenna and the other characters will show up, the scenes will reveal themselves. Then I sat and stared at the blank page for a couple minutes, trying not to think "Crap, this isn't happening." But then it did. The first sentence came. Then the first paragraph. About an hour and a half later my first scene was written. I was laughing, I was excited and a little heartbroken. Perfect!
Today's word count: 2,226 words. The average daily word count to get to the minimum of 50,000 words is 1,666. I'll admit it, I like the little cushion I made for myself tonight!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Ready, Set....
Well, here we are, NaNoWriMo Eve! The night that means trick or treating, ghosts and goblins, pizza and candy to most is actually the remaining few hours until the very first word that launches the novel writing frenzy. There are several Wrimos (nickname for those who participate in the madness) that lay down their very first word at 12:01 am on November 1st. I, however, will not be one of those people.
I've long since lost the ability to be cognoscente at the wee small hours of the morning. I may be awake, staring at the insides of my eyelids and trying to will my mind to quiet long enough to fall asleep, but doing anything that requires actual thinking is not my forte. No, I'll be patiently waiting until after work, well after dinner for that matter, to begin the process. Likewise, my word count on day one is very likely not to reach the daily average of 1,666 words.
I'm honestly not as prepared as I think I should be, but I have enough to know where it is I want to go and who's going to take me there. I have the bones of an outline, with about 12 or so steps through the plot line. I've found about 9 or so of my characters, they've introduced themselves and let me in on a couple sub-plot lines that could be intriguing. What's really kind of cool is that in the program I'm using, Scrivender, you can add photographs to the research area. So, I Google Image searched for pictures of what I had in mind, and low and behold, there were my characters, just waiting for me. I don't want to post them here because they are somebody's niece or dad, but honestly? It's really cool to see all of the people that I imagined, to find their photos among regular folks, all lined up like they were a cast in a movie. I'm not gonna lie, I liked it!
So, while I could be working some more on plot elements or fleshing out my biggest bad guy, I'm actually really tired and feeling like it's probably a better idea to rest tonight. Instead, I'd like to say good night to October with some thoughts from another author. Here's to the journey!
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do that by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
I've long since lost the ability to be cognoscente at the wee small hours of the morning. I may be awake, staring at the insides of my eyelids and trying to will my mind to quiet long enough to fall asleep, but doing anything that requires actual thinking is not my forte. No, I'll be patiently waiting until after work, well after dinner for that matter, to begin the process. Likewise, my word count on day one is very likely not to reach the daily average of 1,666 words.
I'm honestly not as prepared as I think I should be, but I have enough to know where it is I want to go and who's going to take me there. I have the bones of an outline, with about 12 or so steps through the plot line. I've found about 9 or so of my characters, they've introduced themselves and let me in on a couple sub-plot lines that could be intriguing. What's really kind of cool is that in the program I'm using, Scrivender, you can add photographs to the research area. So, I Google Image searched for pictures of what I had in mind, and low and behold, there were my characters, just waiting for me. I don't want to post them here because they are somebody's niece or dad, but honestly? It's really cool to see all of the people that I imagined, to find their photos among regular folks, all lined up like they were a cast in a movie. I'm not gonna lie, I liked it!
So, while I could be working some more on plot elements or fleshing out my biggest bad guy, I'm actually really tired and feeling like it's probably a better idea to rest tonight. Instead, I'd like to say good night to October with some thoughts from another author. Here's to the journey!
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do that by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
-Mark Twain
Monday, October 29, 2012
Better Today
Somehow I managed to go to bed last night in one of those "skim the surface" type of sleeps where I problem solve all night. This is in spite of having what I like to call "Special Tea". This wonderful concoction was introduced to me by my husband and more often than not, creates a lovely deep sleep. This tea (one shot whiskey, hot water, lemon juice and honey) is used sparingly as I don't want my body getting any ideas that if it doesn't have the tea, it's not going to sleep - or that the magic of the tea will be diluted over time. Unfortunately, Special Tea was not up to the challenge of my whirling mind last night.
All night I was trying to solve the problem of needing to write, needing to work, needing to spend time with my family. It's a good thing that I found out before bed that the offhanded remark about not spending time with my family anymore was intended as a joke. Little did my husband know that this very statement opens up an incredibly deep wound, which obviously it hasn't healed. I trust he understands that now and will remember my puffy swollen face and snotty nose before deciding to use that for a joke. He's a good man, I'm sure he will.
I spent the morning writing about plausible solutions until I just started irritating myself. What exactly was wrong with my original plan? Not much. This is something you will probably learn about me. I'm honestly a very logical person, can be very even keeled and have a solid ability to focus and get the job done. Inevitably, somewhere in the process, I will have a meltdown - or two - or three. This is my moment to open the door to the teenager inside who has been told to buckle down and do what needs to be done. The logical mom says, "Sheila, you're going to be just fine if you do this and this and this. Do not worry, it will all work out and you will be proud of yourself!"Then at some point, the door gets opened a crack, teenage Sheila comes bursting out all messy and irrational. She gets a moment to let her emotions fly, bawl her eyes out, stomp her feet, whatever. That is, until she realizes that logical Mom is right. Then she calms down and gets to work.
Tonight I was able to get the framing done on my outline. I have my acts and inside chapters broken down, with high level descriptions of each. This is a huge step. I've never outlined an entire novel before, only short stories and papers. I actually found it quite fun once I had an idea of where I wanted to go and why. I feel like the premise and major characters are fairly set and now the outline is sketched. Hopefully within the next two days I can flesh out a few scenes for each chapter and think about minor characters. If divine lightning strikes, perhaps I can get an idea of subplots. That may be wishful thinking - there's only two days left!
So, the point is, I feel better now. I've calmed down, feel like I made some progress and am ready to try again tomorrow. It's now 10pm, about an hour after I normally go to bed, and my brain is buzzing. And yes, I am having Special Tea again tonight. Don't judge.
All night I was trying to solve the problem of needing to write, needing to work, needing to spend time with my family. It's a good thing that I found out before bed that the offhanded remark about not spending time with my family anymore was intended as a joke. Little did my husband know that this very statement opens up an incredibly deep wound, which obviously it hasn't healed. I trust he understands that now and will remember my puffy swollen face and snotty nose before deciding to use that for a joke. He's a good man, I'm sure he will.
I spent the morning writing about plausible solutions until I just started irritating myself. What exactly was wrong with my original plan? Not much. This is something you will probably learn about me. I'm honestly a very logical person, can be very even keeled and have a solid ability to focus and get the job done. Inevitably, somewhere in the process, I will have a meltdown - or two - or three. This is my moment to open the door to the teenager inside who has been told to buckle down and do what needs to be done. The logical mom says, "Sheila, you're going to be just fine if you do this and this and this. Do not worry, it will all work out and you will be proud of yourself!"Then at some point, the door gets opened a crack, teenage Sheila comes bursting out all messy and irrational. She gets a moment to let her emotions fly, bawl her eyes out, stomp her feet, whatever. That is, until she realizes that logical Mom is right. Then she calms down and gets to work.
Tonight I was able to get the framing done on my outline. I have my acts and inside chapters broken down, with high level descriptions of each. This is a huge step. I've never outlined an entire novel before, only short stories and papers. I actually found it quite fun once I had an idea of where I wanted to go and why. I feel like the premise and major characters are fairly set and now the outline is sketched. Hopefully within the next two days I can flesh out a few scenes for each chapter and think about minor characters. If divine lightning strikes, perhaps I can get an idea of subplots. That may be wishful thinking - there's only two days left!
So, the point is, I feel better now. I've calmed down, feel like I made some progress and am ready to try again tomorrow. It's now 10pm, about an hour after I normally go to bed, and my brain is buzzing. And yes, I am having Special Tea again tonight. Don't judge.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Sanity Check - Fail
What the hell was I thinking?
This phrase is almost like a mantra to me sometimes. I want that clock pendant thing that Hermine in Harry Potter had that let her do many things at one time so she could get more done. Here's the deal. I'm a mom. I'm a wife. I'm an analyst. I'm a writer. I'm at least those things, give or take the order, everyday. How in the hell am I going to be all these things to everyone, and still be myself? How did I think that spending a bunch of time writing, and maintaining a good paying job, and not neglect my family was going to work?
What the hell was I thinking?
Am I giving up on the idea of writing a novel in November. No. Have I gotten much done this week? Anything done this week? No. I've spent the week either doing things that were outside this process that were extremely important to do, or being exhausted. I don't regret any of them. I'm just saying, it's Sunday night, 9:10 pm. My family feels neglected and I haven't written one word.
What the hell was I thinking?
I want to cry, I want to throw something, I want to defy the need to sleep so that I can still fit writing into my life and not neglect my other roles. How does anyone do this?? November 1st is in 4 days. I have a premise, an idea of plot points, some character notes, no outline whatsoever and the look of disappointment on faces when I say I have to go do some writing stuff.
Sometimes I wonder why God gave me the desire to write but not the ability to take the time - or at least take the time and have it not affect my relationships. It sometimes makes me so crazy. Sometimes literally. I'm scared I'm going to give up because I feel guilty about the time taken from my family. Which is the reason/excuse I always give up. Sometimes it's valid, sometimes it's fear of failure. In this case, it's likely a mixture of both. I am unprepared and feel like I'm stealing from my family. I have to figure this out.
Well, I told you I was going to document how this process was going. The good, the bad and the ugly. What we have here is a 2-in-one. It's bad and it's ugly. I'm petitioning that the rename that saying to "the good, the fantastic, and the not so hot". Then maybe more good will happen.
I'm not giving up. I'm just incredibly bummed at the moment. No worries though, I'm sure I'll get over it. And maybe some magic fairies will also come clean my house. That too would be nice.
This phrase is almost like a mantra to me sometimes. I want that clock pendant thing that Hermine in Harry Potter had that let her do many things at one time so she could get more done. Here's the deal. I'm a mom. I'm a wife. I'm an analyst. I'm a writer. I'm at least those things, give or take the order, everyday. How in the hell am I going to be all these things to everyone, and still be myself? How did I think that spending a bunch of time writing, and maintaining a good paying job, and not neglect my family was going to work?
What the hell was I thinking?
Am I giving up on the idea of writing a novel in November. No. Have I gotten much done this week? Anything done this week? No. I've spent the week either doing things that were outside this process that were extremely important to do, or being exhausted. I don't regret any of them. I'm just saying, it's Sunday night, 9:10 pm. My family feels neglected and I haven't written one word.
What the hell was I thinking?
I want to cry, I want to throw something, I want to defy the need to sleep so that I can still fit writing into my life and not neglect my other roles. How does anyone do this?? November 1st is in 4 days. I have a premise, an idea of plot points, some character notes, no outline whatsoever and the look of disappointment on faces when I say I have to go do some writing stuff.
Sometimes I wonder why God gave me the desire to write but not the ability to take the time - or at least take the time and have it not affect my relationships. It sometimes makes me so crazy. Sometimes literally. I'm scared I'm going to give up because I feel guilty about the time taken from my family. Which is the reason/excuse I always give up. Sometimes it's valid, sometimes it's fear of failure. In this case, it's likely a mixture of both. I am unprepared and feel like I'm stealing from my family. I have to figure this out.
Well, I told you I was going to document how this process was going. The good, the bad and the ugly. What we have here is a 2-in-one. It's bad and it's ugly. I'm petitioning that the rename that saying to "the good, the fantastic, and the not so hot". Then maybe more good will happen.
I'm not giving up. I'm just incredibly bummed at the moment. No worries though, I'm sure I'll get over it. And maybe some magic fairies will also come clean my house. That too would be nice.
Monday, October 22, 2012
I'm My Own Soccer Mom
I seem to have turned into my own Soccer Mom. I don’t really have to explain that right? Well, just in case, here’s my thought on this. For whatever reason, I am very competitive with myself. I don’t really care how I measure up to others that much, but up to myself? Look out! I continually strive to be a little bit better, to always do my best, to improve and to grow. Consequently, I’m very motivated by achievements. Not money, not fame or popularity, but reaching whatever goal or bar I’ve set for myself. Not too bad, right?
This actually works out really well for me. I tend to not get hung up on things like “am I making as much as So-And-So”, or "Does anyone like me or think I’m wonderful?" Those things are lovely, don’t get me wrong, but I honestly don’t care that much about them. What I do care about is, “Am I doing the best and all I can do?”. For whatever reason, disappointing myself or not obtaining the level of work that I’ve set out for myself really bums me out. Honestly, it’s probably some deep seeded thing in my childhood, not wanting to disappoint my parents. Not that they ever set huge or crazy expectations for me, but I hated to see that look in their eyes when I did something that let them down. They always joked that they didn’t have to spank me, just look at me cross and I’d crumble. This is very true.
Anyway, now that I’m a big girl, I’ve turned into my own parent. But not always a kind and supportive parent, sometimes I’m an all out Nazi Soccer Mom. I shout from the sidelines at myself and at the Refs. I flap my arms and punch at the air when the time on the clock runs out and poor little Sheila didn’t get one stinkin’ goal! What has happened to me?? Sometimes I wish I was the laid back Hippie Mom that says, “Hey, beautiful. You got out there and ran around. Doesn’t your hair smell like the wind?” Maybe it’s a balance between the Nazi and the Hippie. My inner parent pushing me to try and do well, but at the same time remember that life needs to be enjoyed. And that I need to be kind to myself.
So, that being said, I’m honestly wondering how kind my idea of trying to write a novel in a month really is. Probably not very, and probably the result of an Over-Achiever – which is what my bosses sometimes call me. Can I help it if I really like to do a good job?? Anyway, the thing is, I’ve signed up for this soccer league and I need to play now. The trick is going to try to balance my two inner Moms. Balance seems to always be the biggest challenge in my life, the thing I always strive to hit. Again, I try really hard. It boils down to this: If I don’t write a novel in a month, will I jump off a cliff? No. If I try my best but don’t finish or come up with some frustrating meanderings, am I going to be upset. Highly likely. Am I going to really try to do this but still have fun? Absolutely. Do I always ask myself questions and then answer them? Unfortunately, yes. I actually do. Don't knock it 'till you try it!
So, little Sheila, how did you do on last week's goals?
Not too bad.
1. Figure out how Scrivender works. - Check. That was one long, crazy tutorial but I've got a handle on it.
2. Nail down story's premise. - Eh. I have a page of rambling ideas. I don't feel strongly about what I have, which makes me cranky. Thanks Nazi Mom.
3. Begin "Bare Bones" Character sketches. - Main Character, yes. Others not so much. Again, cranky.
4. Exercise 2-3 times. - Yeah, got 2 in.
5. Focus at work so I don't have to work more that 8 (ish) hour days. -Check.
6. Go on my "Artists Date". - Yeah.... pretty much. I don't think I did a very good job on this. I did not come home inspired or invigorated. I feel like I've forgotten how to have fun.
7. Figure out how to watch the Walking Dead. - No, not yet. Looks like I'm going to have to get the dang cable and hook up the Mac to the TV. Which I have surprisingly not done yet.
So, do I really want to set another bunch of goals? Not really. I know I need to exercise, I know I need to take care of myself. I know I need to get my story's foundation figured out. So, for this week, Hippie Mom is going to get a turn to experiment. My main goal is to try to be kind to myself everyday.
Weird, huh?
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Morning Pages
Honestly, I should be leaving for work right now, but I feel compelled to just take a moment here to post about Morning Pages. Not sure why, but let's just see what happens!
The "Morning Pages" is another tool out of Julia Cameron toolbox, which is in it's bare bones and surface glance, writing three to four pages of whatever comes to mind first thing in the morning. The task is to write it out, not type, a stream of conscious brain/heart download in order to reveal things that are keeping you stuck in whatever mindset that prohibits you from moving toward the things you really are and love.
When I first read about this task, I was a little afraid. I had journaled before. When I was in my early thirties, I was going through a huge identity crisis. Over the prior ten years or so, I had managed to completely lose and bury who I was at my core and when I had finally come to realize that, my life felt like a complete disturbing mess. I was depressed and searched for various ways to deal with it when I finally decided to journal (Thank you to the movie "Girl Interrupted" where the main character deals with her issues through journaling. It was a good idea!). So, I would spend hours and hours writing, dumping, crying and complaining in my Composition books. It was a dark time, no doubt. So, the thought of journaling again activated some cell memories that I must be depressed. Except I wasn't.
I had to rethink how I felt about Morning Pages and use it to connect to myself and not as a channel to complain. What I found and experienced was tremendous from the get-go. I've figured out quite a few things that were blocking me, reasons that were valid and dumb reasons that I had assigned. It's helped me to take responsibility for what I do and who I am, which is pretty dang huge.
So, every morning, I get up at 5:15 am and hop in the shower, doing the bare minimum to get ready for work. About a half hour later, I sneak downstairs, turn on a couple lights and sit in my corner office to say hello to my Morning Pages. At first I usually whine a little, say that I have nothing really on my mind. Pick at my cuticles, stare around the living room and wish I didn't have some terrible but catchy song running through my head. And then it happens. Some internal door opens and a conversation starts. Sometimes it's philosophical (Does God ever get disappointed when he tells me to do something and I don't listen? Does he ever regret Free Will? Hey, wait a minute. It's a lot like when I get frustrated when I give my kids super great advice and they don't listen. They have free will. Does that mean I have a God complex? No, but it helps me to love and accept my children's decisions that much more). Sometimes it's revealing (Hey, you know how you always blamed your Ex on the fact that you can't do creative things because he'd get mad and say you were taking time away from the family. Guess what, that's crap. You would quit doing creative things because you were afraid you simply weren't good enough to make a living at it and fear of failure is way more powerful than someone else's idea of what you're doing. Crap. That one's on me). And sometimes it's bits and pieces of what I'm working on.
That's what's happening this week in my Morning Pages. I whine for a bit, then say I have nothing to say, then all of a sudden an expanded premise to my novel pops in my mind and there I am, working on my novel. This morning I ran out of things to say, looked up and saw my main character, plain as day. There she was, Jenna. I could see her as if she was standing beside me: every feature, her mannerisms, her fears and insecurities. Then her sister showed up. She didn't tell me her name, but gave me a lot of great information.
So, was it wrong to mull-task in my Morning Pages? Here's the thing. Most people that knows me understands that I am not religious. At all. However, those who know me well understand that I am very spiritual. I don't adopt other's views of God, the Creator, and how or who he is. I have and believe in my own connection with him. It's personal and I value it greatly. I understand that when I'm trying to connect with myself, I'm really trying to connect with Him. And I also believe he gives me exactly what I need, even if I don't really like it. Hopefully I listen. I don't always. Dang that free will. Anyway, I have to believe that while I'm sitting at in my Corner Office at the crack of dark, he's giving me exactly what I need as long as I am open to it. So, if I need some philosophical advise, a brick to the head or insight into my project, who am I to turn that away??
Also, this process takes about an hour and I find that the house starts waking up and multiple bodies start roaming around at about the top of page three. Which is usually a very critical point in the process. When focusing and connecting start to become muddy, and my husband Marc has left our bedroom and come downstairs, I then relocate to my Second Floor Office. And shut the door. This office is somewhat tainted by the fact that I've done my day job there at night when there wasn't enough time in the day to get the job done. However, it's a good place to finish up my morning connection.
Ok, it's crazy late and have to get to my Day Job. Have a good one!
The "Morning Pages" is another tool out of Julia Cameron toolbox, which is in it's bare bones and surface glance, writing three to four pages of whatever comes to mind first thing in the morning. The task is to write it out, not type, a stream of conscious brain/heart download in order to reveal things that are keeping you stuck in whatever mindset that prohibits you from moving toward the things you really are and love.
When I first read about this task, I was a little afraid. I had journaled before. When I was in my early thirties, I was going through a huge identity crisis. Over the prior ten years or so, I had managed to completely lose and bury who I was at my core and when I had finally come to realize that, my life felt like a complete disturbing mess. I was depressed and searched for various ways to deal with it when I finally decided to journal (Thank you to the movie "Girl Interrupted" where the main character deals with her issues through journaling. It was a good idea!). So, I would spend hours and hours writing, dumping, crying and complaining in my Composition books. It was a dark time, no doubt. So, the thought of journaling again activated some cell memories that I must be depressed. Except I wasn't.
I had to rethink how I felt about Morning Pages and use it to connect to myself and not as a channel to complain. What I found and experienced was tremendous from the get-go. I've figured out quite a few things that were blocking me, reasons that were valid and dumb reasons that I had assigned. It's helped me to take responsibility for what I do and who I am, which is pretty dang huge.
So, every morning, I get up at 5:15 am and hop in the shower, doing the bare minimum to get ready for work. About a half hour later, I sneak downstairs, turn on a couple lights and sit in my corner office to say hello to my Morning Pages. At first I usually whine a little, say that I have nothing really on my mind. Pick at my cuticles, stare around the living room and wish I didn't have some terrible but catchy song running through my head. And then it happens. Some internal door opens and a conversation starts. Sometimes it's philosophical (Does God ever get disappointed when he tells me to do something and I don't listen? Does he ever regret Free Will? Hey, wait a minute. It's a lot like when I get frustrated when I give my kids super great advice and they don't listen. They have free will. Does that mean I have a God complex? No, but it helps me to love and accept my children's decisions that much more). Sometimes it's revealing (Hey, you know how you always blamed your Ex on the fact that you can't do creative things because he'd get mad and say you were taking time away from the family. Guess what, that's crap. You would quit doing creative things because you were afraid you simply weren't good enough to make a living at it and fear of failure is way more powerful than someone else's idea of what you're doing. Crap. That one's on me). And sometimes it's bits and pieces of what I'm working on.
That's what's happening this week in my Morning Pages. I whine for a bit, then say I have nothing to say, then all of a sudden an expanded premise to my novel pops in my mind and there I am, working on my novel. This morning I ran out of things to say, looked up and saw my main character, plain as day. There she was, Jenna. I could see her as if she was standing beside me: every feature, her mannerisms, her fears and insecurities. Then her sister showed up. She didn't tell me her name, but gave me a lot of great information.
So, was it wrong to mull-task in my Morning Pages? Here's the thing. Most people that knows me understands that I am not religious. At all. However, those who know me well understand that I am very spiritual. I don't adopt other's views of God, the Creator, and how or who he is. I have and believe in my own connection with him. It's personal and I value it greatly. I understand that when I'm trying to connect with myself, I'm really trying to connect with Him. And I also believe he gives me exactly what I need, even if I don't really like it. Hopefully I listen. I don't always. Dang that free will. Anyway, I have to believe that while I'm sitting at in my Corner Office at the crack of dark, he's giving me exactly what I need as long as I am open to it. So, if I need some philosophical advise, a brick to the head or insight into my project, who am I to turn that away??
Also, this process takes about an hour and I find that the house starts waking up and multiple bodies start roaming around at about the top of page three. Which is usually a very critical point in the process. When focusing and connecting start to become muddy, and my husband Marc has left our bedroom and come downstairs, I then relocate to my Second Floor Office. And shut the door. This office is somewhat tainted by the fact that I've done my day job there at night when there wasn't enough time in the day to get the job done. However, it's a good place to finish up my morning connection.
Ok, it's crazy late and have to get to my Day Job. Have a good one!
Monday, October 15, 2012
Goals for Week of Oct 15th, 2012
Whenever faced with a huge project at work, I have to break it down into smaller pieces in order to not just stay on track, but to also keep some sense of sanity ( which in all honesty is a highly debatable state). So, it's only natural that I take this rather large task ahead of me now and try to break it down into more manageable chunks - and hopefully this will keep me from getting too crazy.
But, before I get into those, I like to give my week a theme; something for me to chew on during the week, something that might strike a chord when I'm starting to feel pissy. Lately, I've been posting these on the fridge, at eye level above the water dispenser. Just in case I need a nudge. Or/And just in case any one else might find some truth in it for themselves. You never know. For this week, the birth of a new process and project, this one seems only fitting:
"Though no one can go back and make a brand-new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand-new ending." - Carl Bard
Alrighty, that will do it! Here's this week's goals:
1. Figure out how Scrivender works. I realized that straight typing out my novel onto a word-type doc, juggling multiple story lines, plots, etc might not be the best way to handle it, so I looked into software that organizes all this already. I chose Scrivender and it has quite a lengthy tutorial. So, before I can do much, I'd better figure out how to optimize this sucker.
2. Nail down the story's premise. I have a good, basic idea, but it needs to be fleshed out so I can understand what I've got.
3. Begin "bare-bones" character sketches. I don't need to get too involved yet, but I'll need to get a basic idea of who I'm going to be spending time with. Very soon I'll be getting to know these guys more and figure out how they affect/interact with each other.
4. Exercise 2-3 times this week. This is going to be really important for me. This is where I can let loose a bit, release some stress and hopefully avoid the dreaded migraines
5. Focus at work so I don't have to work more than 8 (ish) hour days. Off time is precious
6. Go on my "Artist's Date". This is a concept from Julia Cameron that simply states that in order to be creative, you really need to go have a little fun by yourself. I never understood how I could want to be with my loved ones so much, but really need just a short time on my own, doing something that I simply enjoy. Sounds slightly stupid, but I can whole heartedly say that an hour or so a week on my own has made a huge difference. For example, I skipped my "date" last week and by Saturday, I was so drained and exhausted. Sunday I took myself to a local farm that I've wanted to go to every fall, but kept putting it off. The bright colors of the leaves, pumpkins, corn against the cloudy sky; the sounds of some old dudes singing Van Morrison and a slightly inebriated couple dancing along, the smells of barbecue and pumpkin doughnuts, a jug of apple cider and an drive through the most beautiful countryside around and I was absolutely invigorated. It doesn't take long, but it's important!
7. Figure out how to watch The Walking Dead. Sorry, I'm not a high-falutent artist, I have weaknesses! And this is one that's going to be tough for me next month. I LOVE this show! The story and characters are fantastic. But, we got sick of paying $100 a month for TV, so we now have rabbit ears, which work great to watch the Voice (another indulgence, but one I can skip if need be). We have Hulu so I'm really hoping that it will show through there. Otherwise, I'm getting a dang cable to hook this here Mac up to the TV and I'm going to watch some good old fashioned Zombie killing with my family!
So, there it is. These things I hold myself accountable for. If I don't stay on top of the little pieces, time's likely to run away from me, laughing in that dang maniacal way that it does when I procrastinate. And I hate that!
But, before I get into those, I like to give my week a theme; something for me to chew on during the week, something that might strike a chord when I'm starting to feel pissy. Lately, I've been posting these on the fridge, at eye level above the water dispenser. Just in case I need a nudge. Or/And just in case any one else might find some truth in it for themselves. You never know. For this week, the birth of a new process and project, this one seems only fitting:
"Though no one can go back and make a brand-new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand-new ending." - Carl Bard
Alrighty, that will do it! Here's this week's goals:
1. Figure out how Scrivender works. I realized that straight typing out my novel onto a word-type doc, juggling multiple story lines, plots, etc might not be the best way to handle it, so I looked into software that organizes all this already. I chose Scrivender and it has quite a lengthy tutorial. So, before I can do much, I'd better figure out how to optimize this sucker.
2. Nail down the story's premise. I have a good, basic idea, but it needs to be fleshed out so I can understand what I've got.
3. Begin "bare-bones" character sketches. I don't need to get too involved yet, but I'll need to get a basic idea of who I'm going to be spending time with. Very soon I'll be getting to know these guys more and figure out how they affect/interact with each other.
4. Exercise 2-3 times this week. This is going to be really important for me. This is where I can let loose a bit, release some stress and hopefully avoid the dreaded migraines
5. Focus at work so I don't have to work more than 8 (ish) hour days. Off time is precious
7. Figure out how to watch The Walking Dead. Sorry, I'm not a high-falutent artist, I have weaknesses! And this is one that's going to be tough for me next month. I LOVE this show! The story and characters are fantastic. But, we got sick of paying $100 a month for TV, so we now have rabbit ears, which work great to watch the Voice (another indulgence, but one I can skip if need be). We have Hulu so I'm really hoping that it will show through there. Otherwise, I'm getting a dang cable to hook this here Mac up to the TV and I'm going to watch some good old fashioned Zombie killing with my family!
So, there it is. These things I hold myself accountable for. If I don't stay on top of the little pieces, time's likely to run away from me, laughing in that dang maniacal way that it does when I procrastinate. And I hate that!
Sunday, October 14, 2012
The Where and The Why...
Ok, so the title of this blog is a little facetious. My Corner Office is actually a corner of our front room that I decided to claim. And front room sounds pretentious, but it's that room that no one uses very much, that harkens back to days when guests were entertained in the parlor. In our house, it's the place that you sit when something lame is on TV, or the Christmas tree is up and you want to look at sparkly, festive joy while sipping tea.
Our house is currently home to my husband and I, four teenagers (give or take one or two depending on the day and who's over) a dog, 2 cats (one which is fat and grumpy and the other who I swear is bulimic and who can't seem to keep her fangs in her mouth. Seriously, they are always on the outside of her closed mouth. Like a saber toothed tiger.), and one incredibly clever and loud parrot. Consequently, the moments of zen are few and far between, but that's ok. I love our big and jumbled family, even Barfy the Cat. Maybe not always the bird. I try, though.
Back to my Corner Office. Mock if you will, but it is quite an efficient space! The footstool opens up and contains various papers, my laptop when I'm not using it, and a fleece blanket for when I'm chilly. Or whinny. The side table has a pocket area in the front that houses a few key books/journals, the back side has a ledge where I keep a few more reference books, and the top contains a lovely fake book that hides my pens, pencils, index cards, glasses, whatever. Next to that sits a very playful baby elephant. If I were to have a token animal spirit, I pick this one.
My objective in telling you all this (and yes, by you I mean any one who happens to read this. Or if no one does, the "You" that exists in my head that I have conversations with - don't judge me! ) is that I'm heading out on this so-called road trip with my writer self in hopes to create something great, or at the very least something that I feel great about. And, this very space is where I'll be doing quite a bit of that. In my chair with my feet up on the handy footstool, Mac on my lap and likely coffee, tea or wine on the side table - depending on the time of day.
One last thing of note: I've signed up for NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writer's Month, for those who really like to say the whole title of things. This is a daunting contest of sorts, where you challenge yourself to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. Outlines and character sketches ahead of time are allowed, actual writing of scenes is not. So, as I move through this process my idea is to post my thoughts regarding it here; the good, the bad and the ugly. I make no promises to always have a positive outlook or be adult about things, but I do promise to simply do my best. Every day.
Alright, that's it! Have a good Sunday and I'll be back!
Our house is currently home to my husband and I, four teenagers (give or take one or two depending on the day and who's over) a dog, 2 cats (one which is fat and grumpy and the other who I swear is bulimic and who can't seem to keep her fangs in her mouth. Seriously, they are always on the outside of her closed mouth. Like a saber toothed tiger.), and one incredibly clever and loud parrot. Consequently, the moments of zen are few and far between, but that's ok. I love our big and jumbled family, even Barfy the Cat. Maybe not always the bird. I try, though.
Back to my Corner Office. Mock if you will, but it is quite an efficient space! The footstool opens up and contains various papers, my laptop when I'm not using it, and a fleece blanket for when I'm chilly. Or whinny. The side table has a pocket area in the front that houses a few key books/journals, the back side has a ledge where I keep a few more reference books, and the top contains a lovely fake book that hides my pens, pencils, index cards, glasses, whatever. Next to that sits a very playful baby elephant. If I were to have a token animal spirit, I pick this one.
My objective in telling you all this (and yes, by you I mean any one who happens to read this. Or if no one does, the "You" that exists in my head that I have conversations with - don't judge me! ) is that I'm heading out on this so-called road trip with my writer self in hopes to create something great, or at the very least something that I feel great about. And, this very space is where I'll be doing quite a bit of that. In my chair with my feet up on the handy footstool, Mac on my lap and likely coffee, tea or wine on the side table - depending on the time of day. One last thing of note: I've signed up for NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writer's Month, for those who really like to say the whole title of things. This is a daunting contest of sorts, where you challenge yourself to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. Outlines and character sketches ahead of time are allowed, actual writing of scenes is not. So, as I move through this process my idea is to post my thoughts regarding it here; the good, the bad and the ugly. I make no promises to always have a positive outlook or be adult about things, but I do promise to simply do my best. Every day.
Alright, that's it! Have a good Sunday and I'll be back!
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