By Odin's Unseeing Eye...

This last weekend was shit. Not only did I not write Sunday but I found a bug in my hair on Saturday. My toilet was clogged. Then I had a pukefest early Sunday morning for little to no reason. I also came to the conclusion this book is probably never going to actually become anything. It’s affecting the writing – or at least I hope that is what is affecting the writing. I just ain’t got it. I am still struggling to get back the mo that jo’d off somewhere. I am still typing to myself – which is never a good sign. Case in point:

After the figure moved away from the trees and into the white expanse of the meadow she could make out black trousers. On his head was a brown hat but glints of gold beneath the brim caught the sunlight with each long legged stride. Oh god. Wintry wonderland. Something fucking shoot me.

By the time she turned the last corner into the hall she was walking up at her full height oh god what am I doing, her chin in the air, her back very straight, the firm line of her walk oh god when will writing be easy again - something about her posture only wrecked a little by the fact she was holding onto herself tightly because of the cold. Jesus help me

Something black to the side caught her eye and she almost cried out in shock. Only the upright wheel gave the hint that the item she was looking at, a black box accordioned down to only a few feet high? What the fuck I am shit today. It's a carriage or what oughta be a carriage but its fucked is what I'm trying to say.

These are actual paragraphs in my manuscript. Do not judge me – I am trying to just write write writewritewrite and not let the story get away from me or to pause and think and write super pretty sentences. I just try and get the structure, the feeling of what I want each paragraph to say. I can make it work later – but… but…. This is the worst. I’ve never still been writing “you suck god this is shit” to myself in the paragraphs this late in the game. I have a character named Lady Whatever. That’s not good either. I’m usually awesome at names.

But I swear upon Odin’s unseeing eye, by the power of Greyskull and upon the pillars of the Grey Havens, I will finish this book to its bitter, unsellable end. Just to finish it. I will not abandon it and let it be another unfinished stone that lay against my heart. Knocking against all the other stones against my heart. Jesus, this is maudlin.

I am now dangerously behind. I have to write 2,859 words a day to finish in time (this would be the 25^th as I am going up North for Thanksgiving on the 27^th and I gotta pack and make my apartment presentable and we know that I will be doing that on the 26^th.) I must do this for many reasons. First: no computer access up north. Or no reliable access, that is. Second: turkey coma. I have NEVER managed to write when I go up there. And I never write when I come back. It’s just the way things are. Third: Thankgiving is so late this year, it will be December before I come back. So, the 25^th it is.

So I go forth. I write. I hope you are doing well, my friends. Or not writing to yourself at least.

Panoply of Parentheticals

So the thing I forgot to extol in my last blog post was that last weekend was a 4 day weekend for me. Sadly, I did not take as full advantage of it as I could. 

However- I am only about 1k or so off my goal so I’m not gonna stress out too much. Plus, I just cut a good ¼” off my fingernails – so my typing speed and accuracy should be much improved. Not to mention the pain factor.

They were even long than this.

 

 I’ve also earned some points on Amazon (please don’t ask me how – this blog isn’t about self-flagellation) and I ordered the DVD set I’ve been dreaming of- it has Persuasion*, Sense and Sensibility and Miss Austen Regrets all together from the 2007 Season of Austen. Then I flat out bought the Northanger Abbey DVD. I have taken to “watching” movies in the background as I write while I’m in composition mode in Scrivener. I find I’m able to drown them out as easily as I can music. And sometimes I put off the writing when I want to watch a movie and read (Yes, I also have a movie on in the background when I read. Don’t judge me. I live alone and can’t stand silence.) 

So now I let myself turn on a movie. I’m still doing very well – writing 2k a day, usually within an hour and a half - and I have about another 6 chapters of outline. (No way that will turn in to fewer than 10 chapters. I don’t judge chapter lengths so well.)

Tonight... I came home and wrote this blog post... and I am flagging. I think I need a nap. We'll see if I get up and write. I can't tell you what the reason for this post was other than the amusing gifs and the parentheticals. Reason enough to nap before I write, eh?

eh?

 

*I know. I know. The ending is utter shit. I hate it. I loathe it. Jane would probably like to come back from the dead and beat the director over the head and naughty parts for having Anne run around Bath like a harlot. The kiss is the worst ever committed to film.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

So ya’ll know I do this at least once a year. I haven’t been writing or editing or livin’ my dreams, and I just let the blog go. We’ve been there. We’ve done that. Let us just get on to the blog post and forget the unpleasantness, shall we?

It’s that time again. The most wonderful time of the year. Christmas? Christmas you say? No. November. More specifically, NaNoWriMo. You know it. You love it. I am actually calling this: NaNoWriMo – The Return Of The Revenge. Because I figured this year’s endeavor needed a title. I attempted to do Camp NaNo in June…. July? What was it? I don’t remember. The less said about that dark and miserable time the better. It was a total fail. I got about 8k but that was it. So yes, I am a NaNo Rebel this year – I am not starting fresh as the driven snow – like I have every other time. My goal is still to write 50K during the month of November, which I hope will be done by the 25th. Another simple truth I am ceding this year: I never write after Thanksgiving….thank God it is at the very last of the month this time. Going up into high altitude and trying to eat my weight in turkey and gravy sucks all my drive and drivel… I come back from my sister’s house and languish.

So this year – I should probably have titled it The Year of Living Sheepishly but that might seem even weirder and more out of context than The Return  of the Revenge. Let me try to explain. I’m thinking bombastic movie title. Like the first was just NaNoWriMo. In that movie, last November, I intended to write a whole novel in 30 days – 3k a day, 90k minimum for the month. That was what I was aiming for. I got more than 80k ad “won” but I didn’t finish the book that month. I don’t think I was done until  February. 

The next year – or rather, next NaNo which was actually Camp NaNo was: NaNoWriMo: The Revenge, when I planned another gothic romance. I only wanted 50k, but I was going to outline the crap out of it and be all writery and stuff. I hadn’t written or done much editing since June. Well. It didn’t happen. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted the story to be, I couldn’t fill in the lines of that outline I wanted and gave up after a few days, sinking back into my former misery and dissipation. 

So this one is NaNoWriMo: the Return of the Revenge – and I am back. Despite the very awesome title, I am not going forward with any major, grand thems. All I want is 50k added to the failed attempt from the NaNo-That-Wasn’t during the summer. An entire novel is not required. Nor is a tight, thrumming outline, strung with glitter and ribbon. I just want to write 2k. Every day. Get back in the groove and feel like a writer again. Today is officially the end of the first week and I have written 2k every day. Probably one of the worst beginnings of any novel I’ve written because I’m so rusty, but I don’t care. I don’t know where this thing is going, if it is sellable, if it is even going to have paranormal elements. I don’t know. The hero is a vampire. What is he doing there if this is just a Victorian romance? I don’t know. I have an orphan heiress. I have the most crumbly and  decrepit house that ever was for the setting. I have a mystery and a bloody dagger. A maid that I don't trust farther than I can throw her. I am just trying to tell myself a story, keep my modest goals and not be too hard on myself. So for all that the Return of the Revenge sounds like a superhero movie, I’m not exactly saving a major metropolis from the scourge of the universe. 

I’m saving that for next year.