Random Thoughts
It was a relatively dead weekend. I felt like what the cat dragged in Friday and looked very the part! I did two good things that day: one for a friend and the other was purchasing our weekend food from Sam (lemon sole oreganata, a righteous mac and cheese for Saturday; orzo and spinach, roasted Portobello salad and lamb kebobs for Sunday).
The rest of the day was spent in some sort of zombie trance and it wasn’t pretty.
Saturday and Sunday, the days I had planned to write, I did manage to get some work done but then a giant door closed. I couldn’t write a damned word. It was as if I’d lost the ability to think or process language.
So, naturally, I invented a new way to waste time and procrastinate. I stared at the television, while getting an intermittent signal, and started counting how many times in a minute I’d lose the signal. But then, during a particularly long downtime, I vegged out staring at the blank screen . . . life seemed so easy then.
Today was a little better, and it was a far more productive day. That isn’t saying much though, although I think I may have come up with a few ideas to create a dialog to move my story along. I am tired though and the days are growing colder and grayer and I detect a troublesome pattern.
Thankfully, this is going to be a short week at work. I shall have rest!
Half Full
One of my favorite Bill Cosby bits was about his college son trying to sound all hip and intellectual and bringing up the whole
"Is the glass half full or half empty?" debate to the forefront. Cos gave him the wisest response I have ever heard,
"It depends on whether you're drinking or pouring." I hit 24,999 words last night, which leaves me 25,001. I could have separated a contraction to be exactly down the middle, but there was something so much more romantic and poetic about being off by 1.
Half way there is far more terrifying than getting started, I've just realized. The closest to the end I get the more denial I go into because it seems as if I've been on level ground so far. That means the battle might take the hillside in the next two weeks and if I lose my balance, my ass is going to roll down a long and rocky way! And yet, I see that as no reason to stop. I feel like Angelus, "I'll take the dragon!"
I now have a clearer view of where I am going to end up, but I don't know *how* we get there. Or maybe I have enough and it is a matter of letting it pour out and stop worrying about how it happens (just let it be). God, the life of the writer is one psychotic roller coaster.
Aaah, but what a ride!
Barbara Bretton always told me I could...
My little journal with the fabric cover, and the white and pink flowers on it, is getting awfully fat. I have formatted the pages to digest size and pasted them lovingly into the little book. It is now twice its original weight and fanning out like an old accordion. Little yellow flags mark each chapter – the first 9 cover the characters entering each others’ lives, the next 8 written introduce a whole new world.
Today it occurred to me that I’m going to need another journal because I’m likely to reach those 50,000 and at 21,000 this little journal is going to be full shortly!
I have never written that much on any one project. It feels a little bit awesome. A lot awesome, if I’m honest… Of course, the awesomeness quite depends on reaching the goal, although I think there’s a far more important lesson here. I
can do it, just as Barbara says if I apply ass to chair and just do it.
The numbers are a little scary, but it also occurred to me that I can write 200-300 words about nothing. If I focus it to the story at hand, I can clear 1,400 in a week – though I am likely to do more on the weekend and the 4-day Thanksgiving weekend.
Now, if I could only come up with an ending…
Just broke 20,000!
It's serious when you get so lost in the task at hand that time passing takes no meaning at all. But what a joy it is to distance yourself from that ritual -- keeping time. It's also pretty serious when you start quoting St Augustine, precisely on his birthday! A pure coincidence, but I take it to mean that the universe wants this story.
Whatever, I am happy!
Back to my epic battle...
Just another day, my dear
11,978 words or thereabouts… The story has now moved to a realm beyond ours and my NaNoWriMo goes on. I’m still behind in my word count, but I am confident that I can still manage it.
I can’t swear that this is a good story or if upon a good critical reading in December it won’t be scrapped. But that is hardly the point.
In other news, I actually used this line in conversation today, “So, I’ll be the Riker to your Captain Picard.” It seemed appropriate at the time and it made a good point. (I'll tell you all about it later.)
Word!
Been busy writing myself out of a couple of corners and away from stories I thought were gimmes. Still, I have managed 8,689 words and the characters are revealing themselves to me in ways I had not expected.
It is an interesting and ultimately insane process that still holds its charm.
Still, I am about 7,981 words off in the count. I intend to catch up to it tomorrow because I am off for Veteran's Day.
I already have a few hundred words written (not typed or ready for a new count), plus a scene outline with some dialogue for the first leg of the heroine's journey. Plus there is a scene in between that I have not even started. Those two upcoming scenes alone should probably take me into 9,000 extra words...
The question now is whether starting behind will affect my catching up. I do not think so. But then, I do not know where the story is headed once I unleash this girl into her trip.
An idea just popped into my head that might just work, but I have no clue. I'm pretty much along for the ride here and hoping my Dutch girl and I arrive safely at the end of the rainbow!
The LOL Cat is the picture I chose for my profile. Seemed oddly appropriate.
Starving Writer? Never!
Here’s the thing… I’m way behind here and while cooking is a great creative release, I don’t have the time. I have to catch up!!! So instead of TJ’s, I stopped at the Family Store.
If I am not cooking (and I won’t make Mom cook on the weekend to humor my whims, though she would because she is always supportive of my artistic pursuits), then Sam Dabas is on deck. And I trust Sam and his food choices explicitly. In fact, I’d hand him money and take a mystery bag if he suggested it because he has never steered me wrong.
Last night we had his lobster lasagna, creamy and a little spicy, with big and succulent chunks of crustacean. The side dish was blanched string beans with roasted onions and peppers in a subtly divine virgin olive oil dressing – velvety and just perfect.
Tonight we will feast on jumbo grilled shrimp with Sam’s rémoulade, a garlic potato salad with black olives and a lemony roasted eggplant salad.
I can play the role of crazed novelist, but I will never be a starving writer!
I wrote a couple of chapters last night and already started a third. I skipped a few scenes I thought would be part of the story, but the characters seem to have rejected my idea. Whatever.
It was a relatively dead weekend. I felt like what the cat dragged in Friday and looked very the part! I did two good things that day: one for a friend and the other was purchasing our weekend food from Sam (lemon sole oreganata, a righteous mac and cheese for Saturday; orzo and spinach, roasted Portobello salad and lamb kebobs for Sunday).
