Good News -- I WON!!!

I did it! I finished! I won!

Shall I recap?

I entered the online National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) contest. I wrote more than 50,000 words of a new work of fiction during the month of November. I made it, having started writing on November 1 and reaching 50K before midnight on November 30.

I did it! I finished! I won!

I went into this with a few thoughts and objectives. First, I knew the "competition" aspect would be a plus as far as motivation goes. Second, I told myself it didn't matter if I wrote 50,000 words of utter dreck, as long as I wrote 50,000 words. Third, it would be a boost to my writing career (snort!) to get a first draft of a second novel.

Here's what I learned. First, 1667 words of fiction a day is do-able. Second, missing a day here or there doesn't kill my opportunity to win. Third, even dreck is hard to formulate!

I'd like to thank everyone who smiled indulgently when I brought up NaNo in every conversation. My husband and sons readily gave up their computer time so I could write. (They also gave up on having their laundry folded, having food in the cupboards, and getting haircuts. They're wonderful guys.) Although not a single library patron asked why I wore a button with an image of a duck and some numbers on it, my coworkers were kind enough to show interest and inquire about my word counts. My online writing friends were encouraging and even shared virtual chocolate to keep me going through many hours of laborious thinking and typing.

Most of all, I'd like to thank the One who gave me the gift of a quirky sense of humor and creativity that led me to believe I could make up stories and write them for others' enjoyment. What an amazing ride this is, Lord!

Ungh... now, it's back to editing, and there are two manuscripts needing my attention instead of just one. What was I thinking?

Hey, is that chocolate in that trophy up there? Yum -- bring it on!

I'm Late! Gotta Run! No Time to Write!

I'm too busy writing to spend time writing. The NaNo novel is coming along pretty well, although I've fallen behind. This blog has been neglected, as what time and energy I have must go into the new novel. On the bright side, there are only 12 days left. Gasp! What am I doing here, writing about real life, when I should be watching my character practice her shoplifting technique?! But no, she doesn't actually practice it. She can't help it. She doesn't mean to take things, you know. But my goodness how our hearts race when she does nab something.

One of the developing themes of the novel has to do with the distractions that color our perceptions. Each of us sees life through our own particular lenses, and we filter experiences through a unique grid. Hmmm... maybe that's why it can be difficult to match details of an event seen by several witnesses. They might have seen the same thing, but their interpretations and assumptions led them astray.

Maybe it's significant, then, when hundreds or thousands of people agree on the details. The first filter for truth ought to be something that has stood the test of time and cultures. Something that is proven both from within (no contradictions) and without (by other historical sources). It must be clear and understandable, even if it takes some study to grasp the finer points. It may have originally applied to a particular place and time, but must contain concepts that are universal and timeless.

But know this first of all, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one's own interpretation, for no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.

Hijacked Joy -- Temporarily

Bummer, bummer, bummer. I found out I've been scammed. A couple of years ago, I signed up for a free credit report service. Since you can get one free credit report per year from the three major credit bureaus, this seemed like an extension of that free service.

It's not.

Today, I was looking over our bank account. You know, when things are tight, you scrutinize every little expenditure, right? Well, this one particular charge caught my eye, and on a whim I Googled it.

It turns out, that *free* report that has shown up in my email every month is a subscription service. I've been paying for it, every month, for a long time. Although I had noticed the charges (sometimes), I had assumed my husband had made those purchases. There's a whole string of complaints about this company, and at least one website dedicated to telling you how to make an assertive appeal for a refund.

I wasn't able to go on the offensive right away, and maybe that was kind of a good thing. Instead of jumping in without looking, I'll get my ducks in a row, have the helpful website up and running, and make my phone calls with facts at the ready.

For today, my blood pressure can stay within reasonable limits. I'm thankful. Still very angry about those charges, but thankful that I can have some control over how I respond and what I do.

Another Note About Today

I wrote this morning about my novel's character hating being recognized as vulnerable, limited, and dependent. Then, I added that these are qualities that no one desires, so this is a universal condition. I'll stand by that, but the brevity of my comments may have seemed to minimize the personal circumstances of some people, and I regret that.

While I don't want to be seen as having limitations, I know I have plenty of personal shortcomings. Like most folks, I try to cover them up so they aren't glaringly obvious all the time.

The difference between an "average" person and a person with physical disability (in this discussion, visual impairment) is that their potential for cover-up is distinctly limited. Orientation and mobility issues, for example, are part of daily life. Every day, all day. Further, these differences between blinkies and sighties are there for all to see. Therein lies the emotional, psychological, spiritual challenge of disability.

In seeking common ground, I don't want to minimize the challenges of facing practical obstacles on a daily, hourly, basis. Sure, I never know when I'm going to (figuratively) stumble and reveal something less than complete independence and strength. But my issues are not the same as those whose limitations are external and therefore more obvious to others, and cannot be hidden but may be overcome.

Thanks for listening. I hope I haven't overstepped my bounds.

A Note About Today

Today is a big day in Auburn. The biggest Veterans' Day parade this side of the Mississippi happens, along with a plethora of supportive activities (mostly involving food.) I won't be watching the parade, but a friend and I are going to sit in on part of the field show competition of marching bands. Somehow, it seemed better today to place ourselves in a covered stadium rather than on a rainy street corner. My dinky little camera phone isn't good for much, but I'll see how creative I can be with it so I can post something later.

The NaNo novel is moving along nicely. As of last night, I was close to the word count goal. I hope to put in some heavy writing time this weekend and again on Tuesday. It's not the exercise in creative futility I had feared, but almost looks like a cohesive plot is developing. There is NO EDITING, and that means I'm leaving large chunks of one-sided narration in the manuscript. Those portions will have to be surgically removed later and replaced with something more dynamic and active. The blind character is developing well. It's fun to write her, because she's got at-ti-tude and isn't afraid to be forthright. She's a great gal, though, and it'll be fun to watch the layers of her toughness get peeled away so people can see her heart. Another fun character (because who doesn't like to live vicariously?) has a bad little secret, a habit that no one knows about. It's a habit that could rise up and bite her -- hard -- if it were exposed. I'm a little worried for her, as I don't know how much exposure she's going to have to endure.

A friend reviewed one of the blind character's scenes for me. His comment was that she hates being vulnerable, limited, and dependent, and these are the "qualities" none of us want to be revealed for the world to see. I would say this condition, this desire to cover ourselves, is universal. Too bad it's also beyond our ability to control one hundred per cent of the time.

50,000 Words of Dreck

I'm 10% done already! After one weekend, I've logged 5766 words on my new novel, "Imperfect Knowledge." So far, I've managed to give one of my lead characters a horribly funny alliterative name (it was a mistake -- I named her son first, and then realized what she would be forced to bear), and spent half a page narrating a poor excuse of a hackey sack passing game.

Woo-hoo, over five thousand words, and a day early at that! Time to party! No, actually, time for this rummy puppy to go to bed. Thanks for cheering with me, though!



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NaNoWriMo, anyone?

It's here! I'm here! The new book has begun! Insanity reigns!

Perhaps I should review, since my last post on this topic was written a month ago.

This is the tenth year of a wacky little competition called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. The object is to write 50,000 words of new fiction during the month of November. Must be new, must be written during these 30 days. The writing can continue beyond this month, but the goal is to put down at least 50,000 words during this time period. It's insane.

I would include a link so you could check out the NaNo website, but things are barely crawling along over there as more than 100,000 writers try to access their NaNo mail and update their word counts. I'll add the link later. It's insane.

Today, after watching my nephew's crazy-good football game, I sat down for two writing sessions and whipped out more than 3500 words. Yeah for me! It's insane, but I'm gonna do it.

I've got a special little warning device that I have tested today. When I'm writing, I plan to wear a lovely orange nylon scarf. This is supposed to serve as a reminder to myself that I'm in a NaNo session, and a warning to others that I should be approached with caution because I'm in a NaNo writing session. Psychological studies have, I'm sure, verified the impact of an article of clothing used as a signal for the performance of special duties. Why do you think scuba divers wear face masks? To remind them to breathe from their air tanks, of course. Construction workers wear tool belts to help them remember to aim for the nails, not their fingers. Horses wear saddles in order to stay on all fours, for the safety of their riders. And this writer will don a scarf from her grandmother, so that the whole world will know not to break her train of thought in the midst of this ever so important endeavor. It is a scarf of power. And loudness. I'll try to post a photo tomorrow.