An Exercise (For Me)

I'm busy cranking away at NaNoWriMo. I fell a little behind over the weekend, but not so far behind that I couldn't easily catch up. The goal for today is 13,336. I'm currently at 10,759 - a difference of 2,577 words. Not too shabby, I think.

I got a little stuck on the chapters that I'd decided to get out of the way because I knew I was going to hate writing them. These chapters are located in the middle of the book and are the only three that are semi-based in reality. I always get tripped up on this. I think I've written about it before. I become so focused on getting it right, getting it exactly how it happened, that the narrative suffers for it. Greatly. I finally "finished" (I'm about 3,000 words short of where I wanted to be with each chapter) 2 of the 3 pseudo-reality chapters and decided to go back to the beginning, which is all make-believe. I'm much happier there.

Still, for all that I hate writing memoir, or memoir-ish chapters, I started thinking back to dear old Anabel & Paul - the novel I was working on for last year's NaNoWriMo and which I'm currently editing/polishing/finishing(?). I started taking a writing class Wednesday's after work and decided to use the class to aid in my editing, to try and get reactions from an actual audience about my characters. In re-reading Chapter One, I realized how much I use from my own life to flesh out the characters and the home.

So that's why this exercise is for me. I wanted to go through and see how much of myself I insert and, from there, try and determine how I can better work/edit the memory-based chapters I'm working on now.


- “Ana,” he grumbled.: Ana is a name I use for a lot of my characters. It has everything to do with my work with and study of eating disorders in college.


- The door had its knob in the center instead of to the side,: The door to my Grandfather's second house had the knob in the center. I loved it.


- and a multicolored granny square blanket that her Nana had crocheted when she was a little girl.: I don't think my Nana ever actually crocheted me anything. But she did crochet and she was my Nana. Actually, she taught me crochet basics, so I guess that's something.


- but since he disliked being baited, he said nothing and continued fiddling with the part in his dark corner.: I HATE being baited and will often make situations extremely uncomfortable if that's what you're trying to do, just by simply not asking. I was working on a project with a girl in class once, someone I had only just met, and she kept hemming and hawing over something semi-tragic that had happened to her that weekend. But, she wasn't actually coming out and saying what it was. She definitely wanted me to ask. I didn't.


- She put down her copy of Little Women on the bench beside her: I read Little Women for the first time around this time last year and resolved to make it a yearly, Christmas time read. I already have the movie on constant rotation during the holidays.


- Anabel’s eyes were one blue, one brown. The pupil in her brown eye was shaped like a lima bean, disfigured from the time her younger brother loaded a snowball with a rock and aimed for her face.: Weird that I attributed this to a female character when it comes from a boy who I was in (puppy) love with in grade school. His eyes were the same and I believe it was because his brother threw a snowball at him that was loaded with a rock.


- and a bag of peppermint tea from the tea canister on the wooden shelf above the stove.: Peppermint tea is my favorite!


- she smiled, tilting her head in his direction: Not that this is personal, but I picture the way that Rachel McAdams looks at Mark Brendanawicz (who cares what his real name is?) at the end of The Family Stone, when they're hanging the last ornament on the tree.


What about you? How much of your own personality do you tend to insert in your writing? And if you don't, if you prefer to keep your writing solidly based in fiction, why? What's your process? 

NaNoWriMo Launched!

It's that time of year again. When I resign myself to writing 50,000 words in a mere thirty days. When I actually take the time to write. Make excuses FOR my writing, instead of against it. Every year the process is horrifying, daunting - overwhelming. Yet somehow, by the time fall hits each year, I've forgotten the pain and can only look towards November and NaNoWriMo with anticipation.

My past two years were a... failure? Year One, I abandoned pretty early on. I didn't like what I was writing coupled with the fact that I was using someone else's personal experiences to write the story. It was all just wrong and devastating. Year Two, I plodded along full steam ahead until about 35,000 words. I only quit because of a different, more lucrative opportunity. Year Three? I've finished editing the gargantuan ms. I've moved to a new place - a happier place. A place more conducive to my creative exploits. I'm taking writing classes with women who foster my creativity. And - I have a decent idea. I think I'll make it.

Yesterday, East Line Books hosted a launch party. Launch party it shouldn't be called, actually. Because a few people showed up expecting a PARTY and were a little more than disappointed to find us all silently working at our tables. How is this fun? Seriously, though. How did I have so much fun?

For me, it's wonderful just to be in that environment. Surrounded by other writers who are silently working, silently struggling, silently hoping. It's universal. And not only that, to write in one of the most gorgeous  bookstores I've ever been in, surrounded floor to ceiling by books! The smell of them! How could that not be fun?
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Excerpts from "A Kentucky Love Story"

One I love:

Tobacco mixed with saliva in his mouth. Instead of aiming for the rusty tin can which had been set next to his rocking chair for just such an occasion, Brent Engell chose to careen the sloggish brown mixture toward the bushes at the edge of his porch. The spit hung precariously from a barren branch before slowly stretching itself thin and falling to the ground with a satisfying plunk.  A lone fly, quicker on the uptake than its brothers who buzzed incessantly in Brent’s ear, alighted from the can and hovered over the freshest dropping. Brent grunted and continued to clean his rifle.

It was hunting season in Kentucky for the muzzleloaders.

And another not so much:

A hawk took off into the sky from somewhere deep within the woods. A smaller bird fretted around it, seeming to fight off the larger, more dangerous bird. Brent watched as the hawk soared high and away from its tiny prey. The smaller bird settled back into the treetops and the hawk began to circle, giving the area where the bird had disappeared an extremely wide berth at first, but gradually coming in, ready but willing to wait. To lull its prey into a false sense of security as it burrowed safely back into its warm nest amongst the already changing leaves.

Ugh... how do you even fix that? But that's what so freeing about NaNoWriMo. I stared at that for a while and started to try and edit it. But I thought, NO. I've written it. It counts for my NaNo count and that's that. When November's over and done, then I'll edit. Move on. Keep writing.
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Are participating this year? What are some of your strategies for staying on task?

Visit my profile if you'd like to be writing buddies. I'd love to hear about what you're working on!

Top Ten of Twenty Ten

Though I haven't yet finished the last of my four books to finish before the end of the year, here are my Top Ten favorite books of this year. While From Eternity to Here is good, it isn't going to make this list. So I don't need to worry. This is seriously my favorite post of the year, every year.

10. Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett
9. Faithful Place - Tana French
8. Valley of the Dolls - Jacqueline Susann
7. The Ear, the Eye and the Arm - Nancy Farmer
6. Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones
5. The Giver - Lois Lowry
4. Hunger Games (trilogy) - Suzanne Collins
3. Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
2. Freedom - Jonathan Franzen
1. Raven - Tim Reiterman


Also - a year end review of my resolutions:

- Read between 35 and 50 books this year. 35 being the final total of 2009 and 50(something) being the number I burnt myself out on in 07 and 08. I ended up with 34. Not too shabby. I read some good quality books this year.

- Stop using my credit card and fix my debt (it's already been two months since I last used it. Huzzah!) I got rid of the crippling debt on my credit card by applying for a personal loan and am no longer freaking out about the state of my finances. Now if I only had a million dollars....

- Read at least two works of non-fiction - filling out my notebook as I go along. I read Raven and I'm halfway through From Eternity to Here. I should finish before the end of the year.

- FINISH Les Miserables. I believe I have something like 3 or 400 pages left. No, but I'm considering focusing on TWO books only in 2011. This and War & Peace.

- Keep my apartment neat. Well, I kept it clean the week I was kitten sitting...

- Write a review for every book I read this year.

- Update my blog with all of my book reviews. That I definitely did.

- Write. Anything. I participated hardcore in NANOWRIMO this year. Didn't finish, but still made it to 30-something thousand words. I'm happy with my creative output this year.


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Yawn & Stretch

So. I didn't finish NaNoWriMo. But I was close! 37,000 something words. Chapters 1-7 finite as well as chapters 11-13! I think that's very good. I'm not disappointed in the least. I accept my failure but don't really think it's a failure at all. Good things!

My silence now can only be explained by the mad dash I started on December 1st to finish all of my unfinished books. (I'm dropping Tiger's Curse. No time!)

- Pillars of the Earth: will most likely finish tonight.
- Freedom: erg. But I will finish. I just don't get it. It won't make my Top 10 list.
- Heartbreaking Work: I plan on finishing this one on Saturday when I visit my parents house to do laundry.
- From Eternity to Here: science and space and nerdy things. Want to finish so bad.

Writing Is Painful?

I was true to my word and holed up in my apartment for an entire day and a half to write, leaving only to have dinner with my parents on Sunday and even writing through that, much to my mother's enjoyment. "Nicole, will you please get that thing off the table?" - that's my mom referring to my laptop. Anyway, she made pasta with ricotta and sauce. So. It was worth it.

ANYWAY. I wrote - and I did the math. And I'm not good at math, so I checked it with my calculator. I wrote 13,338 words this weekend. And it was basically the most painful thing I've ever done. But also the most rewarding? To see my counter move past the halfway point. There's so much blue now and so little gray. Look I'll show you:

Ah! So pretty!

I'm all caught up now and ready to hit my 50,000 words on or before November 30th! Rock on, WriMo'ers!

A Schedule

Okay. Here's my schedule for my weekend of nothing else but writing. I mean. I'm also eating. But I'm not showering. So. Gross. And. Lots of writing!

Saturday -
7 - Rise. Stretch. Eat.
8/11 - Write. Work on Chapter 6. Goal - 3,000+ words
11-1 - Break. Lunch. Clean? Start Eastern Promises?
1-3 - Write. Finish Chapter 6. Goal - 2,000+ words
3-4 - Break. Go for a walk?
4-5 - Write Start Chapter 13. Goal - 1,000 words
5-6 - Break. Eat Dinner.
6-9 - Write. Work on Chapter 13. Goal - 3,000+ words
9-10 - Call boyfriend?
10-12 - Finish Chapter 13. Start Chapter 7. Goal - 2,000+ words

Sunday -
7 - Rise. Stretch. Eat.
8/12 - Finish Chapter 7. Goal - 4,000+ words
12/1 - Break. Lunch. The Cut stuff.
1/4 - Write. Work on Chapter 8. Goal - 3,000+ words
4/the rest of the evening - go to parents for dinner and continue writing there. Finish Chapter 8 before you go to bed!

This is assuming I finish Chapter 5 and Chapter 12 (I've been working out of order. It's been working out for me) prior to the weekend. If I do that, and if I follow this schedule, I should be well ahead of Sunday's word count goal of 35,007.

Keep Going At All Costs!

So. I'm behind in NaNo. NaNoWriSLOW. Haha. Okay, I really need to stop with the NaNo puns. Anyway, not so far behind that I can't catch up. Just, you know, 5882 words behind. No big deal, right?

Are any of you as far behind as I am? Is being that far behind daunting or motivating? How do you motivate yourself to keep going and reach the end target of 50,000 words by the end of November? Or are you more inclined to admit defeat and bow out of the struggle?

I'm going to keep trying, I think. I was a failure last year for a number of reasons. The story I'd chosen to write too closely matched the real life of a well-loved family member and he was none too pleased that I was stealing what was emotionally his. And my boyfriend had broken up with about a week into the month and while the tears came quick and swift, the words just weren't. Though, I think I probably wrote 50,000 words worth of unsent letters, pouring my heart out to him in love, anger and pain. I should have submitted that.

But this year, things are looking up! I have an idea born of original thoughts and emotions that are not those of others. I have a wonderful new boyfriend who read my first four chapters (the first three, of course, not part of the challenge) and encouraged me to keep on writing. So though I paused, for a hot minute, really in NaNo time if you think about it - I'm going to go full steam ahead.

Current NaNo Count: 12,452
Grand Total: 26,610

NaNo-Rhino

So I took this cute little guy from Melissa who in turn got it from its owner, Kate Higgins. He makes for a good buddy, I can tell you that much.

As of last night, I'm ahead of the count. The totals are:

Day 3 Word Count: 2,120
NaNo Total: 5,492
Grand Total: 19,650

I've been on a really good schedule - 600 words on the train (300 coming, 300 going), 500 words over lunch and the remainder in the evening.

What's shocking to me is that by the end of today, I'll be done with Chapter 4. Done!! It took me how many months to write three chapters? Also - if I stay on track, I'll have through Chapter 13 finished (but unedited, of course) by the end of the month. Craziness!

Anyway, I'm already exhausted. Since I was ahead last night, I took the time to nap on the train this morning instead of write. I really needed it. I always get a little cold at the change of the seasons. The fact that NaNo is happening at the same time is probably not good for my health. But I'll soldier on!

I'm planning on posting an Unedited Piece of My Soul at week's end.

NaNoWri-GO!

I finished Chapter 3 about a week ago, so I'm all ready to start NaNoWriMo fresh from Chapter 4. I'll update as often as possible with my NaNo count and my official count (which is somewhere near 13,000 right now).

Here's my page, just in case you want to buddy up.

Game plan:
Train: bring notebook and write by hand. (ugh) But this is prime writing time and I am NOT carrying my laptop. Make do.
Work: Can I do at least 500 words during lunch?
Home: Combine train writing and work writing and finish up.

The hardest thing for me is going to be JUST WRITING. Not thinking too hard and editing as I go. It'll be difficult for me, but it's essential. Blah.

Good luck, all y'all WriMoers!

Update:

NaNo Count: 1,709
Total Count: 15,867

Writing Update

Trying desperately to get Chapter 3 done before this weekend. I keep saying that and it shouldn't be this hard. Kitten-sitting last week made it impossible to write as Francie didn't quite understand why I'd want to pet the computer instead of her. I did try though. Got in a paragraph here and there whenever she found her tail more amusing than my hands.

Chapter 1 -The House - 3,496
Chapter 2 - The Lot - 5,198
Chapter 3 - Christmas Eve - 4,309

Total: 13,003

I still haven't hit the reason for Chapter 3's existence so - I'll probably run closer to 6,000 words on that chapter.

I'm going to attempt NaNoWriMo again this year. I read the rules and it says you can't work on something you've already been working on, but I'm not going to follow that rule. I won't count my 13,000 words towards my final count - that I can promise. But I don't want to work on something else and I need help focusing on writing more than not writing. And I want to make writer friends in New York City!

0 Words

If you haven't already guessed, I've completely abandoned NaNoWriMo. Because I'm weak, I guess.

1,110 Words, 8,557 Total

I've been so tired lately. I went to bed at 10 last night, slept the night through, and still slept on the train. On the way in and on the way home.

I may have picked up a writing buddy. She's 13 and her enthusiasm for NaNoWriMo reminds me of my enthusiasm for writing when I was her age. I should attempt to resurrect some of those old half finished "manuscripts" of mine. Trouble was, back then I thought I was the next R.L. Stine and only wrote about troubled girls who put their fluffy white cats through meat grinders and made delicious hamburgers and stole their mother's boyfriends. Damn, that story was so good.

400 Words, 7,467 Total

7:30 - Ack! I believe the NaNoWriMo website is down! The horror!

Another, Ack! My grammar! It's atrocious. Not editing is killing me, but I guess it keeps me moving forward instead of focusing on the behind parts.

8:09 - I'm procrastinating like a mother. Still haven't written anything yet. MUST WRITE.

8:16 - Plugged in and ready to go. I really wish that my keyboard keys glew (glew? glowed?) in the dark.

9:04 - 394 words and I'm fading fast. Going to take a short break, drink some water. Take a shower and then start Chapter Two.

9:35 - I can't think how to begin the second chapter. What do I want to happen? I have this chapter and perhaps one more before Mark leaves everything behind. I wanted to make it at least to the first week's goal of words before I switched gears and sent Mark on his way. That would be about 12,000 words in.

So what to do? So far, his father's come home (to live) and Mark's mother never told him. It's been over a year since the day his father was kicked out, but Mark still isn't talking to him, so this is a pretty huge deal. Mark's mother tries to rationalize his decision in a terrible "make up" conversation with her son and Mark leaves, waking up at 4am in his car at the beach and in trouble with the security guards.

What happens next? I thought about starting the chapter at the therapist. Or do I have him staying at his aunt's house? Or do I have him at home, not really talking to his mom, nor his dad and ... this sounds terrible. I think I'm going to start the chapter at the therapist. With a combination of that last one.

The most fun bits to write so far have been the description of the LIRR and my description Ocean Parkway. I'm sure this will never get published, but I think it's important. To capture things as they are. Paint the place you live as it is so it's never forgotten.

I have to put this down for the night.

2,855 Words, 7,067 Total

I got some serious writing done at the boyfriend's this afternoon. Posted a new excerpt on the NaNoWriMo site:

For the first time since beginning to take the train in and out of the city, I prayed for a track condition or the striking of an unauthorized person on the track. Anything to delay the train, spend two, three, maybe four hours on the train instead of one. Everyone would grumble and curse and yell that they needed to pick up their kids or they needed to get home to dinner or they spent 3,000 dollars a year on this bullshit! And I would smile knowingly at them, shake my head as though I shared their pain. We would be united in our unification, our hatred of the LIRR, except inside I’d have erupted in tumultuous applause for the worn track or the unauthorized person who died just so I wouldn’t have to get home on time.

As always, the Long Island Railroad proved to be completely unreliable and pulled into Deer Park station at exactly 6:55. Walking to my car, I started to panic. Full blown panic. I am normally a runner – one of the people that gets up at Wyandanch and stands at the door, impatiently tapping my leg, waiting for the train to pull into the Deer Park station and the doors to open so that I can burst forth, entering the race of the other 5 or 6 runners that throw themselves down the platform stairs and across the parking lot to their cars. But I couldn’t run. I couldn’t even get out of my seat and nearly missed the Deer Park stop.

I walked slowly to the car and got in. And sat there. Part of me wanted to run home and defend her. Tell him to get the fuck out. Maybe I would push him. But another part, the part that kept the hand that held my keys frozen to my side instead of inserting them, igniting them and peeling away – that part wanted to never go home again. That part wanted to go to sleep and just forget about it.

Just reviewing The Beach on Shelfari and adding Raven. Then, back to writing for at least the next half hour.

1,336 Words - 4,212 Total

Moving along and desperately trying use my life without using my life. It's a good lesson in creativity. To dare yourself to stray away from the real story and turn it into something different, while also making sure that the emotions you wanted to carry through are there. I think I succeeded with today's bit of writing. I was also able to go back and change some of the old stuff, even though I know we aren't supposed to be editing, I think it gave me peace of mind and a better direction.

Watching some 30Rock right now while I straighten my hair, doing dinner and wine with the boyfriend and the parents, and then back to writing until my eyes close on themselves. Can I write 7000 more words before the end of tomorrow?

Day 3 - 484 Words - 2,876 Total

Hit a bit of a snag yesterday and most of today, so I didn't get started until pretty late. I feel as though I keep making a thousand excuses. Probably because I do. Anyway, since the Google Document thing didn't work because it uploaded incorrectly, I'm switching to a keychain USB to carry with me wherever I go. So I can work on it at work - like I wanted to do today. And then when I go to the boyfriend's, I can work on his laptop while he plays poker! It's a WIN WIN.

Man I love WIN WINS.

Day 2 - 904 Words - 2,392 Total

8:30 - And about to start writing. I have a half hour before I have to start preparing for tomorrow. I was invited to attend the AAP's Young to Publishing conference tomorrow and need to straighten the hair and do the nails and turn myself into a true professional that doesn't show up for work in frumpy clothes and sneakers. 3 minutes gone! Blog procrastinating. Let's go!

8:40 - Boyfriend called and interrupted process.

9:04 - Phone call ended. Devoting another 10 minutes before beautifying process begins.

9:15 - 420 words and taking a break. Will continue when beautifying process is complete. One of the guys upstairs is talking outside my window again, and he's lucky I'm in a good mood. That's all I'm saying.

Oh, also, before I go. I think I found some sort of direction for my story. It opens with the line I mentioned yesterday and the character discusses his childhood depression, loneliness - etc. His "suicide" isn't really a calculated suicide and has more to do with a child's desire to slip away, disappear. He talks about this with a bit of childhood innocence, a bit of humor. Anyway, the story really starts at his second suicide, a death he fakes to escape his life and start over. There's this mother son thing going on in the first part, and so I think I'll have him watch his own funeral and react to his mother's pain.

Thoughts?

10:18 - starting again, slowly, with wet nails. But it's a fab dark eggplant-y color. Very professional.

10:48 - I am so tired and can't continue. After sitting up way past midnight last night, I don't think I can hack it again tonight. But I am glad I have some sort of maybe direction.

This was fun!

Oh - I'm something like 3000 words behind, but need to have something like 11,500 words by the end of the week. I'm going to put it on Google Documents so that I can work during my lunch breaks. Seeing as how I only have a few hours at home to myself, that may be the only way to reach my goals realistically and without killing myself.

Here's the excerpt I posted to my NaNoWriMo page:

There were other things too.

The time Eric bet me I couldn’t knock that nest of baby birds out of the tree with the rock he had in his hand. Not wanting him to know that I really didn’t want to knock the nest of baby birds out of the tree, I took the rock from his hand and hoped that the smirk on my face matched his. Heavy, hard and cold. It pressed against my fingertips and I twirled it slowly, watching my target. There was a shrill cry from the tree and I could see at least 2 little heads reaching up towards their anticipated lunch. If their mother came home just now, maybe she’d eye Eric and I and know what we were up to. Maybe she’d swoop down and poke out Eric’s eyeballs, giving me enough time to drop the rock and run for it. She’d leave Eric bleeding on the lawn and fly after me, but I’d be too fast for her.

Eric looked at me. “Scared, Mark?”

“Nah.”

I twirled the rock one more time, drew my arm back and threw. My aim was perfection and the nest exploded, sticks, mud, thread and tiny baby birds bursting up into the air. Then it all came down and their tiny bodies hit the ground hard. Bounced once. And all was still.

“Cool,” Eric shouted, running to inspect the chaos.

I followed more slowly and quietly contemplated the murder I’d just committed.

There was the time I called Donny a nigger because I’d heard the word on TV and I was pretty sure I’d applied it correctly, but also wasn’t quite sure how much damage the word would do. He told his mom and then his mom came to my house and told my mom. My mom said she’d never teach her son that word, which was true because she hadn’t. And Donny’s mom said maybe she should have taught me not to say it. And my mom said that you never know what kids hear and she was sure I was sorry, which I was sorry that my mom was getting yelled at but I wasn’t sorry I called Donny a name because he had stolen my backpack. Donny’s mom answered very rudely and my mom asked her to leave. Then Donny stole the stick and that was the last I saw of him.

There was the time I told mom everything about myself. Everything I was and everything I feared that I was. And she took me in her arms and told me it would never matter to her, but her eyes looked so sad and scared.

Nov 2 - 1,488 words - 1,488 total

I got it going, which is nice. But it still reads like a short story and doesn't have much direction. It starts:

I was 9, the first time I tried to kill myself.

I meant to get to 1,667, but I'm tired and it's already incredibly late. I can make up the extra words on the weekend. If my computer weren't so bulky, I could carry it with me through the day. Oh well.

I do really want to do this.

I think I'm going to do this: National Novel Writing Month, or as it's more lovingly known in the sphere: NaNoWriMo.

Basically, the point is to write a 50,000 word novel by midnight on November 30 - completely giving yourself away to 'literary abandon'. That's 1,667 words a day and I'm already one day behind! Luckily, how much you write is the aim - not what you write. The point is not creating a work of pure genius, but sitting down and writing. Just writing. Commitment is the point.

I got 159 words done at work today. Just to get myself started. 1,508 left for tonight, plus yesterday's 1,667.