Penguins

Photo: Penguin's Paradise by Anne Froehlich

Line up in a flock of black and white.

Stand firm on ice cold principles

 the size of a small state.

We just broke off a chunk of Monticello

 but it’s only visible from space.

We’re cracked, we’re melting, we’re floating

 away on a world that looks to us

 like it hasn’t changed since ’76.

by Maria Mainero

 

The End

This has not been a good year for blogging. What's that? You missed me? You didn't notice? You only ended up here because you searched "child eats glue stick" or "Tell Me All Your Thoughts On God Song Meaning?" (Note how I cleverly promote the two most popular search entries leading to my blog. Not sure what I expect to accomplish with this cleverness, since this blog is not about glue sticks or late 90's music.)

But never fear friends, I'm still wasting time. I've spent the last 5 months revising my book, and after countless hours and documents, and even an editing class, I've come to the conclusion that I've come to the conclusion. I'm not exactly sure how a writer is supposed to know when their book is done. But for me, it's done when it's as good as I can make it. And so, for now, I'm done.

That's not to say my book is perfect and there's no room to improve. I'm just saying that at this point in time, I've taken it as far as whatever talent I posess permits. I'm entering the Pitch Wars contest in hopes of getting a mentor, because my own brain has been wrung dry on this book. I need a shot of genius from an outside source. And I need to stop reading my book backward and forward, before I have to pull a Taylor Swift and tell it we are never, ever, ever getting back together again.

So before I burn the bridges with Creepy Boy, I'm wishing it well, I'm sending it out into the world of Queries and Contests and other far distant places. Ours will be a long-distance relationship, and an open relationship too. Creepy Boy, feel free to let other minds twirl around your plot, POV and chapter order. And please don't be hurt if I start writing someone else. I know it's sudden. But he caught my eye the other day. . .no one you know. . .his name's Harm. He's in a rock band. His mom's a psycho. Runs in the family.

Don't worry, Creepy, we'll still keep in touch. I promised you another tweak of your final chapters. I'll come through for you on that the first weekend we get together. It'll be bittersweet and we'll both come away agreeing it's for the best.

First Draft

I just did it. I just finished writing a for-real, all the way to the end, 96,853 words, 36 chapters, first draft of a novel.

I'm beyond excited about this, which is why I'm bragging about it on my blog. I've spent a year on this story, but before that, I spent many many years with many beginnings of stories that I never had the stamina to take all the way to The End.

So tiny little pat on the back for myself, while I'm still feeling it. Oh, heck, great big pat on the back and a rum n coke! I'm sure it won't be long before the doubts come back out to play, but for now, I'm riding the high into revision-land for as long as I can.

The one thing I have going for me is that I love my story. Okay, yeah, I wrote it myself, so I probably should, but at least I know I'm not going to get sick of it.

That's right, my book, the book I wrote myself, is now right up there with all my favorites, some of them favorites for the whole story, like Bridget Jones' Diary, others, favorites for just one or two perfect pages.

I've skimmed my way numerous times to that delicious scene where Percy literally kisses the ground Marguerite walks on. I've taken on "Phantom of the Opera" over and over, for Raoul on the roof with Christine, bitterly trying to accept their "secret engagement," or for that moment when the Phantom speaks his name, or sheds a tear.

I've read "A Tale of Two Cities," cover to cover many times, just for the joy of that moment when Sidney Carton does "a far, far better thing."

I'm looking forward to revising and revisiting all the tender and twisted moments I love and savor in my own book. I just have to make sure I work on all the other parts too.

What books do you love to re-read?

Cover Art, Yay!

I came home from the Tax Job tonight, to find my family had been busy creating covers for my novel in progress. I'm so glad I live with these awesome people. I love them! Look what they did!

 by Robbie age 5

 From my husband, Matt

 by Sarah age 7

by Sarah age 7

Vote for your favorite! I'll use it to grace the cover of my 1st draft!





One of the characters in the book I'm writing decided to write a sonnet. Which means, I have to write a sonnet. I haven't done that since high-school, and out of curiosity, I headed to the Archives*

Eventually, I found my sonnet, in my poetry binder.** My teacher had generously given it an A. I suppose that's because I followed the proper rhyme pattern and pentameter. The fact that it was stupid apparently didn't figure into the equation.

 

Other treasures I found:

• A radio script I wrote for a contest in middle school. (non winning)
• A picture book I wrote for a contest in middle school. (non winning)
• My elementary school diary (the complete week of entries I made)
• Various beginnings of stories about genies, time travel (with stagecoaches), school hi-jinks, ghosts, death, murder, and some lame story that seems to be all about a kid who didn't want to cook dinner for his family. Not sure where I was going with that one.
• A very funny description of an unsanctioned subversive school club, called "The Writers Bloc" whose mission was to use writing to achive chaos. (not real, but it should have been!)
• Some excellent examples of bad writing. "She picked up her suitcase and transported it to the bedroom." Seriously? Transported? And who gives a crap about her suitcase anyway?
• An OUTLINE for my very best story from high-school, the one I'd come up with an awesome ending for, but can no longer remember. Outline was very detailed, and only missing one thing. The ending. I now realise it was also missing a little thing called plot. 

Digging through all this awesomeness kept me entertained late into the night and I'd like to think that as ancient as it may be, all those efforts can still count towards my 10,000 hours to creative breakthrough.


*Two boxes of notebooks, folders and binders that I have transported through 7 changes of address.
**Yes, it is an actual binder. Yes, it is alphabetized. Yes, those are the two most impressive features of the poetry binder. The actual poems pale in comparison.

Open Mike

21 days into Novemeber, and I'm woefully behind on my goal of finishing my book by the end of the month. I've managed to crank out 21,000+ words and 10 chapters, but I still haven't made it to the end.

I figure if I write a chapter a day for the next 10 day, I might make it. But that's a big might, because I've just reached another one of those awful bogged down and discouraged places, where I'm pretty sure my book sucks. Where I feel like every single book I happen to pick up, or hear about, or suddenly remember from freshman year of high school English class, has already done what I'm doing, or at least part of it.

I keep thinking of that Bare Naked Ladies song, "It's All Been Done." It's not like I've stumbled across another story exactly like mine. But whenever I come across similar elements or themes, I start to panic. Heck, I'll be honest, I start to panic if I come across a story that has a character with the same name as one of mine.

Then I start to worry that my story is too over the top, my writing is too wordy (yes it is, but I'm working on it) and that this is bound to suck.

But you know what, I'm not giving up. I happen to love this story, and I love my characters. They've been growing a lot over the past 6 months, and I want to see what happens with them.

The first novel I attempted to write will never be seen by another human in my lifetime. But this one, I'm putting out there. I will finish it, revise it, query it and receive a bunch of rejections. I'll show it to friends and fellow writers for input and I'll cringe as they point out obvious flaws, or give me a half-hearted compliment.

But I'm working on the theory that everyone has to start somewhere. It's taken this long for me to just start. But I'm doing it. I'm getting up there on stage with this thing, ready to take the boos. Hoping someone will sing along. Or to eventually get a hit.

It's November Again. . .

This is my obligatory NaNoWriMo post. Thanks to a friend with a GREAT suggestion, I'm not actually doing NaNoWriMo. No offense to those who are diligently preparing to crank out their 50,000 words, but what I've come to realize is that as a writer, I'm already too wordy. I don't need any further incentive to pad my word count.
So thanks to my friend and fellow writer, Vicky G. who is also halfway through writing a book, I'll be doing FiNoWriMo, with the goal of actually finishing the first draft of my WIP by the end of November. This is just about as daunting, but more likely to help me focus and not go off on lengthy tangents that I end up cutting three days later.
Oh yeah, also, November is the month when I'll be doing all my tax classes, and skills classes, and maybe a certification exam too. Should be a piece of cake.

In The Beginning

Question. What is the most important thing you will ever write?


Answer. The beginning.

I’ve been writing for a while. Or years. Or recently. Depending on how you want to define it. But this year, I decided to get serious about it. I write nearly every day. I keep of writing log of the work I’m doing on my current novel in progress. I’ve committed to a chapter a week, which may seem ambitious to some, and pathetic to others.

As part of my commitment to work seriously on writing, I’ve been reading books and blogs for advice on writing. One thing that’s come through loud and clear from all of them is how important the beginning is. The first chapter must draw readers in, have a hook; your first 50 pages must be unstoppable.

I can’t stop thinking about this advice, because I think my beginning kind of sucks. Oh I know how important they are. I studied journalism in college with an old school professor, O’Reilly Rickard, who drilled us in leads. I spent a semester in Journalism 101 writing leads every day, and not to brag, but I was pretty damn good at it.

I never pursued the field of journalism, mostly because I couldn’t fake the level of passionate idealism that seemed to be a requirement. But I still cringe at some of the horrific leads that pass for journalism these days.

But back to beginnings. You can’t write the lead, until you know the story. And with a novel, that’s a little different. Because even if you have an outline, or think you know all your plot twist and details and endings, there are still inspirations that strike as you write, still details and nuance to work out. So you don’t truly know the story until you’ve finished it.

I know this, I know I have to just keep moving on, and stop obsessing over my beginning, but then I read about a first page contest, and I started agonizing over my first 250 words. Which I might change completely, after I’m done, but still, I spent an hour analyzing each and every one of those words.

Then yesterday, I read something about a Twitter pitch. Basically one sentence, 140 characters to sum up the heart of your book. Advice about how to do it--good advice, here. I beat my head on the laptop for a while trying to come up with that. I haven’t succeeded yet, probably because I have yet to write the heart of my book.

So time to get back to writing the book, and not worrying so much about the beginning. I’m sure next week, I’ll read a blog about how the first word in your book must be riveting.

Hmmm, I wonder, what is the most compelling word in the English language?

It probably starts with Q.

Writing is Like

I wasn't actually Tagged in this game, but Heather Kelly's blog inspired me, so here goes

Writing is like painting. It looks easy until you try it. Then you realize, there's all this "pre-work.” Moving furniture, washing walls, taping off, outlining, brainstorming, character development, plotting.


Finally, you're ready to start, and you put that first coat on, and it's easy, it's kind of fun rolling the fresh color on that blank surface. But then there’s then next wall. And the next. And now you’re tired and it’s starting to bore you, even though you’re listening to all your favorite music.

At last. You’re done. Well, not really done. Now you have to wait at least 4 hours and you’re starting to think, “This is good, it probably doesn’t even need a second coat.” But you know it will; even now as it’s drying you can see places where it looks a little thin.

Time to do that second coat, and it’s even more boring. You just want to be done, to put your room back in order. It feels like you’ve been working on this project your whole life. Even worse, you’re starting to second guess your color choice and point of view (that whole 1st person/3rd person agony).

But at least after the 2nd coat, now you’re done. Oh. No. You’re not. Now, you have to wait again, untape, retape, and paint all the trim. And after all your detailing and editing is done, someone reminds you, yes the trim does need another coat. So get back to work.

But now is it done? Oh yeah, it’s done. But you are not done. Time to untape again, clean up and move the furniture back. Don’t forget to clean your paintbrushes, write your query letter and hang the curtains back up.

All that work is worth it though, for the finished product. The room looks new and bright, you sit on your sofa, admiring your work, friends visit and compliment you. It’s all good. All except for that little spot in the corner of the ceiling where it wasn’t taped quite right and the paint bled through. And there’s a smudge on the windowsill. And behind the sofa, a splatter on the carpet. You notice these things and try to accept the fact that you will never fix them.

Eventually, you’ll need to hang up some artwork too. Especially if that query letter works.

I would like to tag Vivi Bickell who listened supportively to my writer's rant a few days ago.  Clearly I haven't followed her advice to stop looking at blogs and just write. Haha.
 
As for my other two tags, if you read this and feel inspired, consider yourself tagged!

Readers

I need a few people to start reading a first draft for me. Not proofreaders. Not beta readers. Not critique partners.  I'll be needing those too, in the future. Right now, I just need people who love me enough to waste a little time reading chapter by chapter installments of my book in rough draft format. People who will say stuff like "oooh, interesting, I can't wait for more." People who will nag me saying, "it's Sunday, don't you have another chapter done?"

Sure, I'll take corrections, suggestions or constructive criticism. But I'm also going to try my best to make it reader-worthy, with a minimum of typos and an effort to be at first-draft level, or at least a bit above true "rough" draft.

For any  fellow writers, I will return the favor (in any manner you like, FYI I'm a very good proofreader--to other people's work, not so much for my own). 

Here's the concept of my story, if you're interested.

Kelsey knows it’s rude to stare at Calvin Baker, when everyone else at school glances away politely. She knows it’s wrong and cruel to think of him as Creepy Boy. It’s not Calvin’s fault he was in a disfiguring accident and can barely speak a coherent sentence.



But Kelsey can’t forget her recurring dreams that predicted Calvin’s fate. And she can’t shake the haunting sensation that Calvin has returned from the dead. Soon she’s drawn into a voyeuristic fascination with Calvin and discovers that he has an obsession of his own—Kelsey’s long-time friend and recent ex-boyfriend Dave.


As Kelsey attempts to salvage her relationship with Dave, she finds herself unwillingly sympathetic to Calvin’s own attraction to Dave. Until one day she discovers Calvin’s true dark desires, depicted in the pages of the lurid comics he draws. But by then, Kelsey has already gotten too close to Creepy Boy.

Writing Blog

How would I classify myself as a writer?  Fiction, for sure.  My first effort was chick-lit, of the "lifetime movie" variety.  Which is why I suspect it's currently buried, awaiting a rewrite that may never come.  I enjoyed the tortured love-affair aspect of it, but got really tired of the redemptive ending I tried to create for my main character.  And honestly, what's the point of all the agony I put her though if she doesn't learn/grow/change?  It's just that learning and growing can be so good and boring. 

I'm new to this writing, but have been told, Young Adult is where it's at.  I know this genre is rife with fantasy, which I've never really felt inspired to imagine or write.  The other biggie is the "post apocalyptic" types, which I cannot fathom writing.  Not that I've never imagined in this style.  But usually my "end of the world as we know it" fantasies are just an excuse to send myself, my crushes, and my enemies into the wilderness, where I then show how tough, capable, clever and compassionate I am, and they all fall in love with me. A lot of fun to think of, but would be embarrassing to write.  In fact, even a little embarrassing to admit.  Just forget I even mentioned it.

The book I'm working on now, I can clearly classify as YA (teenagers, high-school, angst, it fits), paranormal (out-of-body-experiences, comic book alter ego) and romance (a twisty love-triangle).  This one is fun and I'm pretty excited about it, and it has a nice dramatic showdown for the ending, so I know I'm not going to get bored. 

I can think so much faster than I can type, and in the time I've been writing this particular blog post, I've come to the conclusion that if I had to label what I write, I'd classify it as "Misfit Romance."  Which sounded a lot better with all the accompanying thought process.  Forget I even mentioned it.

P.S. For you faithful followers of my blog who are more used to my "mommy life" type posts, I'll not be posting all of these writing posts on facebook, and if I do, I'll clearly title and label them so you know what to expect.  I'm sure there's some better way to do this, but I can't get bogged down with tech stuff.  Need to keep writing my book while I'm feeling it.

Final update on NaNoWriMo, just a little late

I came here to write a post about Christmas and found this post that I never published.  Better late than never?

December 1st 2010.  National Novel Writing Month is over.  My "novel" is a few hundred words shy of 9000, and a few thousand words shy of the 50,000 word NaNoWriMo goal.  So what do I have to show for the hours I spent attached at the fingertips to my laptop?

It's called Fan-Fic.  For those of you who've never experienced the insanity that is Fan Fiction, let me explain.  There's a website.  FanFiction.net.  It's dedicated to stories that people make up based on other stories, movies, tv-shows, and any sort of work of fiction you can imagine.

For the record, I've been immersed in fan fiction for many years now, I just never wrote it.  I always liked to make up my own stories based on other stories, imagine alternate endings, or different scenarios.  All these years, I thought I was just weird.

I admit, I am weird, but as I've discovered, I'm sure not alone, as evidenced by the hundreds of thousands of stories on FanFiction.net, which led me to realize that compared to some, I'm relatively sane.  What a relief.

This past summer, I read the Harry Potter series for the first time and promptly embarked on a story of my own.  I decided to give a shot at writing it up as a fan-fic, just to get it out of my head and to practice my writing skills before November. 

I got hooked.  NaNoWriMo went on the back burner.  From a writing standpoint, I'm actually pleased.  Unlike NaNoWriMo, where I was obsessed with producing sufficient word count, with fan-fic I have been focused on perfecting my chapters so I can post them on line, for actual readers.  I've taken 7000 words that comprised the beginning and ending of my story, and have fleshed them out to over 30,000 words.  I have, for the most part, accurately translated the product of my crazy mind into a written document.

My last chapter had over 100 readers within 48 hours of posting.  I have no idea how that statistic stacks up in the world of FanFic, but I'm pleased with it.  Readers.  What more can a writer want?

NaNoWriMo 2010 Progress

Word Goal as of Nov. 21st:  35,000
NaNoWriMo novel words written: 8,700
Fan Fiction words written: 17,000+ since Nov. 1st, for a total of 27,700
Hours of Tax Classes attended: 25+
Piles of laundry currently on the family room floor: 4
Number of days I attempted to ignore my fan-fic and focus only on my novel: 7
Number of days I succeeded at this: 0
Number of days I was a complete and utter stressed-out bitch: 7

It's all better now.  I've accepted the fact that I will not be completing NaNoWriMo this year.  I will however, be completing my Harry Potter fan-fic.  I hope all those fangirls appreciate my sacrifice.  :)

Counting Down to November

A very hasty blog post tonight.  Only six days until NaNoWriMo begins, so I still have time to get my house in order, put the finishing touches on a Halloween costume, (and oh yeah, buy candy), stock the fridge, and make sure all bills are paid in advance for November. 

I had started a marvelous blog entry about multi-tasking, but it requires a little editing and I'm feeling too frantic for that, so you're stuck reading this.  And if this NaNoWriMo stuff is boring you, just ignore me for the next month, because IF I squeeze in time to blog, it will only be because I'm having a writer's block crisis or need to rant about word count.

Must go back to work now on my Harry Potter fan-fiction and hopefully get it out of my system before Nov 1st, so I don't feel compelled to write a character into my novel who writes fan-fiction in her spare time.

Any fellow NaNoWriMos out there find me at nanowrimo.org.  My user name is mommia. 

Worthwhile?

I’ll admit as a stay-at-home mom, I often feel like I’m doing nothing worthwhile with my life. Oh sure, I take care of my two young children, maintain the household, keep things clean and organized (yes honey, I really do, just not every room simultaneously) do all the shopping, pay bills etc.

But to claim that as an accomplishment seems a little like bragging that I brush my teeth every day. (I do, twice in fact, and usually at least once before noon.)

I do this writing stuff, which I’m not sure is anything more than an excuse for me to daydream, fantasize, and think of imaginary people with made-up problems.

And then there’s the four or five months of my other identity, as a working mom, a practical dollars and sense tax professional, focused on numbers, rules, real people, real situations and solutions.

And when all three of these cross paths, my life starts to feel a little crazy. I mean, NaNoWriMo is less than a month away, and I don’t even have an outline.

What DO I have?

1. An idea and a few characters.

2. A rough novel from last year with severe holes in the plot.

3. Twelve completed hours of tax classes and 18 hours to go.

4. At least one, and hopefully two tax certification exams to complete sometime in late November.

5. Two children who take turns being too sick to go to school.

6. A lingering cough thanks to two sick children infecting me.

7. An impressive 7000+ words of Harry Potter fan fiction I’ve convinced myself I’m writing as a NaNoWriMo warm-up and which cannot possibly indicate that I’ve regressed to the level of a 15-year-old groupie, because that would be embarrassing.

Why do I do it? Because I want to. Hoping some of it turns out to be worthwhile. (Not the fan-fic, obviously, I know. I mean the other stuff.)

Might be Deleting This Tomorrow

Am I drinking and blogging? Watching Glee, thinking, Yay, I’m going to write an AWESOME YA novel for NaNoWriMo. WTF. What about my other novel. That awesome one that I haven’t finished. When am I going to do that? (I should really leave all these typeos in just to see how drin,ing I am. Yeah. I REALLY (my fav overused word) need to just finishe my last story. The only thing I need is: ddddddaaaaaadaaaadaaaa. that’s a drum roll if you didn’t know. I just need to write the part wither Emily makes good on her promishe to mindy and drags mindy’s daugheter mikayla to visit her in prision. jUst a few good show not tell kind of scenes to round out the book, and then maybe a “teeney tiney” bit of happitly every after, and then I can give it to my sis Joanne and say Readitandweep.

Yeah and then I’ll be done for a while with that WIP (or POS all depends on perspective), and free to spend Oct. on tax classes and freaking hard tests of irrational thinking, and Nov. on NaNoWriMo and fantastical thinking of my fabulous YA novel.

FYI, I was feeling like this was a Friday, BEFORE I found out Glee was on and before hubby said something annonying wichi I can’t remember but whichi convinced me that rum’n’coke was in order.

Whip it Good

I’m writing on this blog to 1) brush up on my writing skills 2) procrastinate and 3) force myself to get motivated. My sis (who will be my first and perhaps only reader of my 1st novel attempt) has been pestering me for the finished product. But my 65,000ish words are far from a finished product. I need to first, and foremost, WRITE THE DAMN ENDING, which is the hardest part. I also need to go through and eliminate all the redundancies and contradictions and stuff that says “need a better word for this.”

But instead, I re-read my favorite parts, sprucing up the spelling and punctuation, tweaking a word or two here and there, chuckling at how awesome and clever I am. Then I skim over all the kind of iffy parts, make a few revisions. Then I accidentally read one of the really, really, bad parts, and do stuff like gag audibly, or slam the laptop shut and literally run away.

I then read some real, published book, and use it to berate my book. “Book, why can’t you be more like (Bridget Jones’ Diary, Harry Potter, Pride and Prejudice)? That book is interesting, has vivid descriptions, entertaining details, and a plot with an ending. Why do you have to be so lazy and boring? When are you going to make something of yourself?”

Oh Book, I know you’re not really to blame. You just lack discipline. Me too.

So in an effort to be more disciplined, I’m trying to write every day, even if I just end up writing a blog post. I started writing this post a week ago, so as you can see, it’s been slow.

But good news. Today, I wrote 1,200 words of my WIP (that’s work in progress--don't I sound all smart with my new-found writer jargon?) I also made a decision to tone down an aspect of the story that I have never been thrilled about writing anyway. And I felt a little hope that I can whip this WIP into something I wouldn’t be ashamed to let people read.

Write Now

Why am I writing a blog? Well, because I am a “writer”. Right. I guess that all depends on how you define the word “am”. It’s been 20ish years since I decided that was my career goal. A few less since I pursued my goal on a daily basis with college journalism classes, writing for the college paper and writing radio commercials. Things which convinced me that “doing what you love” for a job, was a sure-fire way to make you hate what you love. (By the way, that’s also my biggest fear about being a stay-at-home mom.)

About a year ago I met a lovely lady who was starting a writing group (check out her blog cursinginheels.blogspot.com). I thought, “Now is a great time to get back into writing.” Not really, actually I thought, “hey, she lives in my neighborhood and she’s a mom. Maybe our kids can have playdates.” I realized I was way out of my depth, when she talked excitedly about the book she wrote for “NaNoWriMo” as if everyone knew what this “rhino” creature was.

“NaNoWriMo” turned out to be “National Novel Writing Month”, an annual challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. A couple of the other women who attended that initial group meeting came back the next month enthusiastically stating their intention to “do it.” Me? I thought, that’s nuts. But I did our writing exercises, and that crazy NaNoWriMo thing kept charging around my head. Because the thing was, I actually had a story in my head again.

I’ve always had a story in my head, since I was five years old. Back then, the story was that I got the red ruby slippers. With a matching headband and barrettes. And a purple room, with a purple telephone and a fluffy purple rug. And the kid with the cowboy hat was my friend. Don’t worry, the plots have improved since then, although color coordination did play a major role for way too long. Mostly it was an escape mechanism, but I figured I could turn it into a real success, if only I’d develop the skill for getting the stories out of my head, onto paper for others to enjoy.

But the years went on and although I always had time to think of these stories, I never seemed to have the dedication to writing them. As I grew older, busier, less in need of escape, the stories came more slowly. Then something happened to turn them off altogether (long pause for dramatic effect).

I had a baby.

This sweet, fussy, crying, demanding little girl suddenly became the thing that occupied every spare brain cell I had. And even some of the non-spare essential brain cells, like the ones that allow you to place dirty dishes in the dishwasher rather than in the refrigerator. After a while, Crying Little Girl and I worked out a compromise. I would devote 50% of my brain to her, and that would leave 50% for normal human function. This plan was working great for 2 years, and then along came sweet, cuddly, hungry little boy. Now I wanted to give him 50% of my brain. And how could I give Little Girl anything less? Which left nothing. One month of zombie life later, enter plan B. 25% brain to Little Girl, 25% to Little Boy. 25% for functioning. 25% to guilt over not being able to give 150%. Zero, Zip, Zilch to creative daydreaming.

Eventually, the Little’s demands eased up a bit. I chucked the guilt on the compost pile. In place of guilt, a story was creeping in. Nothing too deep—just a combination of a dream and an actor I had a minor crush on. Said actor’s career seemed to be going nowhere, and in frustration at the lack of good film material, I decided to give him a leading role in my NEW STORY.

Long story short, I decided to make this short story long, and turn it into a NaNoWriMo attempt with no greater goal than to say I did it. And since I’m very goal-directed when I actually have a goal, I did do it. I wrote the required number of words, of my novel, in the month of November.

Best of all, I loved it.