Oh NaNoWriMo! You are over now. It was a busy and exhausting month, and here I am- left with an unfinished and highly unpolished manuscript, and a filthy house. Negatives aside, I am grateful for the experience. Here is why:
I wrote an entire first draft in one month.
My first drafts usually take me six months. They are large (between 90-120K)and generally require extensive editing. By that I mean cutting and shaping. My outtakes file for my other three stories is as large as an average manuscript. LET IT POUR stands at 60K right now and could use some filling and detail, but the story is all there. The hard part is done and it took me 25 days.
Planning is my friend.
I go into a new work with an idea and let it flow. This is how I've always written. This one was different. I dove into writing with an idea for each chapter. While it wasn't extremely detailed, it did give me focus. I knew as I wrote what I needed to resolve, what I needed to explore, or foreshadow. This kept me in line and kept me from straying from topic. The result is a very specific story.
I have proven to myself that I can complete a challenge.
I never thought for a moment that I wouldn't 'win' NaNo. I don't ever enter anything that I don't believe I will win. This is why I don't do College Basketball brackets (anymore) and have no desire to go to Vegas. This is why I fold if I know I don't have a chance in poker, conversely why you should fold if I say "I'm in." I knew I would accomplish the 50K goal. But I was concerned that I would hit my 2K daily stretch goal. I set the goal to see if I could achieve more than what was expected of me. And I did. This is an amazing confidence-builder for me. I have learned that a challenge isn't an obstacle for me, and that dedication and hard work will bring results. (Remind me that I said this when I start querying again, btw.)
I have added to my Skipping Seven stories (or what Tim Lotesto called the Aqua Trilogy).
I didn't think I would. I thought this novel would be a rebound for me- a chance to work on a project outside that realm and break away from it. Instead I found that there were more characters for me explore. I'm happy about this. I love that there's a community and relationships that I've created, and I can continue them. I've always hated finishing a book and walking away from characters I love. Now I don't have to. (Side note: I wrote a scene two nights ago with all four MCs at a party together. While it split my brain to have to get into all their heads to write their conversation, it was an amazing experience.)
I have a new musical love.
Jessica (@coffeelvnmom), if I stop listening to Florence & The Machine any time soon, it will be a miracle. But I'm sure my family and friends will appreciate the break from my Jeremy Enigk obsession.
I know that a Mom Strike will never work for my benefit.
I told everyone that I was taking November off to write. Okay, not really off, because I still cooked and worked and did laundry, but I wasn't going out of my way to ensure that the house was beautiful or making any fantastic dinners/desserts. I kind of thought that the folks at home would pick up the slack a little. Didn't happen. Never before have so many chicken nuggets and bowls of cereal been eaten in my house. Dust an inch thick laced all counters. The pile of laundry grew to epic heights. Seriously. My kids had to pack a water bottle and a snack just to get in there and find a pair of clean pants for school. And I won't even discuss the state of the bathroom. You just don't want to know. The positive take-away from this is that I know my kids don't mind filth, and I learned this when I couldn't care less myself. I have saved myself the stress of having to learn this when trying to teach them a lesson about over-working and under-appreciating their mother.
Listening to: Guess.
xo. kb.
Showing posts with label NaNoWriMo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaNoWriMo. Show all posts
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Accomplishing and Underachieving.
We are in Week 2 of NaNoWriMo and I've kept close to my goals so far. To hit 50K by the end of the month, you have to average 1667 words a day. I set a stretch goal for myself- 2000 words/day- so I could take off Thanksgiving, and give myself a cushion. I'm a little behind today- Kate goal was to have 14K written yesterday, and I had 12,616 because of stuff that needed to get done in the morning, a long work day, then my odd desire to sleep. So I'm going to need to haul today to get to 16K, but I think it's feasible, as long as I ignore MG and just write a lot of makeout and sex scenes, which seem to move me along faster. Just kidding. I mean about the sex part. I haven't gotten to that part of the story yet. I will ignore MG however. I'm teaching her independence. Kidding again.
It's weird for me, to write to a word count. Generally, my expectation is two pages, single-spaced. Or finishing a scene. I don't like to deal with numbers, because I feel they're intimidating. I don't want to think I haven't done anything significant just because I haven't churned out a certain amount. Achievement to me is about consistency and dedication. But I entered NaNo as a challenge to myself and so now I'm doing the numbers thing.
I follow a lot of writers on Twitter. I enjoy reading about their journeys because, although there may be a million writers out there, I don't know many personally- certainly none in my (tiny) circle of friends- and it can be very isolating to write. I'm locked in my head almost all of the time, and when I'm out with other people, I find it difficult to disassociate from what I'm working on at the time in order to make conversation. At least conversation that isn't my writing. Which, let's be honest, most people don't want to hear about. It's been great for me to hear that other writers share my struggles. On the flip side, it becomes isolating again when I see these writers having successes that I don't.
Many of the writers I follow are participating in NaNo and are killing word count. A few have already achieved 25K. They're tearing through their novels. Seeing their progress makes me feel discouraged. I'll admit it. Because there's no way I can write that fast. Really. I mean, sometimes I have a sprinter day, where I write a ton, but it's unusual. I know this about myself, which is why I set a SMART goal for myself in the first place. SMART, for those of you who don't know is an acronym for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, Timely. (Eve- you are not allowed to make fun of me, btw.) But even though I'm on target and not overwhelmed, I can't help but think I'm underachieving. Or am a lesser writer because I'm not super speedy.
I do this in other arenas as well. I run or workout every day. Every day. Because it's important for my body and spirit to have that release. I do the elliptical for 37 minutes (do not ask me why that specific time- I will never tell you) or run 2 miles. Any more than that and I get bored. Or tired. Or my lungs want to explode. I should feel glad that I accomplish what I do. And I do, until I hear about my runner friends participating in 5Ks or marathons, or even working out for an hour or more, and then I feel like a lazybone.
I know it's important not to compare yourself to other people. We're all different. Sure. True. But I'm pretty sure we all do anyway. We compare good and bad. Because even as I write that I allow myself to be discouraged by other peoples' successes, I also just told you my specific successes. And maybe you're impressed that I write 2000 words a day. Or run 2 miles. And maybe I'm proud of it too. Proud and embarrassed at once.
Listening to: Death Cab For Cutie- all of it.
xo. kb.
It's weird for me, to write to a word count. Generally, my expectation is two pages, single-spaced. Or finishing a scene. I don't like to deal with numbers, because I feel they're intimidating. I don't want to think I haven't done anything significant just because I haven't churned out a certain amount. Achievement to me is about consistency and dedication. But I entered NaNo as a challenge to myself and so now I'm doing the numbers thing.
I follow a lot of writers on Twitter. I enjoy reading about their journeys because, although there may be a million writers out there, I don't know many personally- certainly none in my (tiny) circle of friends- and it can be very isolating to write. I'm locked in my head almost all of the time, and when I'm out with other people, I find it difficult to disassociate from what I'm working on at the time in order to make conversation. At least conversation that isn't my writing. Which, let's be honest, most people don't want to hear about. It's been great for me to hear that other writers share my struggles. On the flip side, it becomes isolating again when I see these writers having successes that I don't.
Many of the writers I follow are participating in NaNo and are killing word count. A few have already achieved 25K. They're tearing through their novels. Seeing their progress makes me feel discouraged. I'll admit it. Because there's no way I can write that fast. Really. I mean, sometimes I have a sprinter day, where I write a ton, but it's unusual. I know this about myself, which is why I set a SMART goal for myself in the first place. SMART, for those of you who don't know is an acronym for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, Timely. (Eve- you are not allowed to make fun of me, btw.) But even though I'm on target and not overwhelmed, I can't help but think I'm underachieving. Or am a lesser writer because I'm not super speedy.
I do this in other arenas as well. I run or workout every day. Every day. Because it's important for my body and spirit to have that release. I do the elliptical for 37 minutes (do not ask me why that specific time- I will never tell you) or run 2 miles. Any more than that and I get bored. Or tired. Or my lungs want to explode. I should feel glad that I accomplish what I do. And I do, until I hear about my runner friends participating in 5Ks or marathons, or even working out for an hour or more, and then I feel like a lazybone.
I know it's important not to compare yourself to other people. We're all different. Sure. True. But I'm pretty sure we all do anyway. We compare good and bad. Because even as I write that I allow myself to be discouraged by other peoples' successes, I also just told you my specific successes. And maybe you're impressed that I write 2000 words a day. Or run 2 miles. And maybe I'm proud of it too. Proud and embarrassed at once.
Listening to: Death Cab For Cutie- all of it.
xo. kb.
Monday, November 1, 2010
A departure for me.
NaNo began today. My personal writing goal is 2000 words a day, and to achieve that I'm doing two sessions- one in the morning and one at night after the kids are in bed. I've achieved my first 1K for the day and am about to embark on the next, but I need to get into the mood. So I'm doing something I don't normally do. It's been a terrible two days and I figured, Why the hey not? I'm posting my first page. You probably won't see me do this again. Chances are, I'll take this post down later after a bout of nerves. I'm not even linking it to any of my social media accounts, so if you chance upon this, consider yourself... well... consider yourself one of a very few. Here goes.
****
Some people hate Mondays. I've never been one of those people. That said, I hate mornings. Any morning. And this particular Monday morning was proving to be retched. I'd hardly slept, the baby up and crying every few hours. I'd been careful not to make too much noise and wake Adam, who needed to get up early for his flight. The flight was to New Orleans, where Adam's company was hosting a convention that was supposed to be more meetings than debauchery. He'd be gone for a full week, only to return Friday afternoon and leave again Sunday evening for three days in Dallas. I wasn't looking forward to all that time alone.
The alarm sounded, and though I was already awake, the noise of it startled me. I sat up in bed, turned the electronic chiming off, and rubbed my eyes. The house was early morning quiet, the soft pattering of water running in the bathroom and a sliver of light shining from under its door my only clue that anyone but me was up. I slid my legs over the side of the bed, slipped my feet into my slippers, and padded downstairs to get coffee. I rubbed my eyes as I walked. The kitchen was full of the roasted aroma. I inhaled it deeply and said a brief prayer of thanks to God for coffee and its magical properties, for Adam and his salary, which enabled us to buy a state-of-the-art programmable coffeemaker, and then for my own foresight to have set the machine up last night. It was not the kind of morning to have to wait for caffeine. I poured myself a cup, took a first sip, a second gulp, then made Adam a mug and brought both upstairs.
I nudged the bathroom door open with my hip and went in. Adam was still showering and the room was full of steam. I set both mugs on the counter and wiped a clear spot on the mirror.
“Morning,” I said. “I brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks, babe,” Adam called back cheerfully.
He's abnormally chipper in the morning. We are complete opposites in this respect.
I frowned, analyzed my reflection in the blurry glass, and frowned again. Even through the vapor I could see I looked tired. There was nearly an inch of outgrowth on my highlights, my blue eyes were flat and there were purple circles underneath. My tan was fading and my skin's golden tone was yellowing.
The water turned off. Adam stepped out from behind the glass and wrapped himself in a thick, beige towel. He meticulously dried his feet on the bath mat, then met me at the counter and gave me a kiss on the cheek. His face was soft and smelled slightly of eucalyptus. I turned to him and noticed a small patch of hair on his jawline.
“You missed a spot,” I said.
“Did I?” he asked, and felt for it.
“Let me help you with that,” I offered, and reached for the razor in its cup.
“It's okay. I've got it,” Adam assured.
He cleaned a spot on the mirror with his towel, wrapped it back around his waist, and found the patch. I put some toothpaste on my toothbrush and watched as he wet his shaving brush, swirled it in the soap and applied the lather to his face. The patch was no bigger than two, maybe three millimeters, but it didn't matter to Adam. Everything must be done in a certain way.
My teeth were brushed, my mouth rinsed by the time he'd finished. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
“You know you're ridiculous, don't you?”
“Laurel, the only way to do things is to do them right.”
His face was earnest, but a smile crept on it. He's fully aware of his idiosyncrasies. I smiled back. I'm aware of them as well, and some things cannot be helped.
“Yes, well, your coffee's getting cold.”
He took a sip.
“Not yet, babe. Lukewarm, just like I like it.”
***
xo. kb.
****
Some people hate Mondays. I've never been one of those people. That said, I hate mornings. Any morning. And this particular Monday morning was proving to be retched. I'd hardly slept, the baby up and crying every few hours. I'd been careful not to make too much noise and wake Adam, who needed to get up early for his flight. The flight was to New Orleans, where Adam's company was hosting a convention that was supposed to be more meetings than debauchery. He'd be gone for a full week, only to return Friday afternoon and leave again Sunday evening for three days in Dallas. I wasn't looking forward to all that time alone.
The alarm sounded, and though I was already awake, the noise of it startled me. I sat up in bed, turned the electronic chiming off, and rubbed my eyes. The house was early morning quiet, the soft pattering of water running in the bathroom and a sliver of light shining from under its door my only clue that anyone but me was up. I slid my legs over the side of the bed, slipped my feet into my slippers, and padded downstairs to get coffee. I rubbed my eyes as I walked. The kitchen was full of the roasted aroma. I inhaled it deeply and said a brief prayer of thanks to God for coffee and its magical properties, for Adam and his salary, which enabled us to buy a state-of-the-art programmable coffeemaker, and then for my own foresight to have set the machine up last night. It was not the kind of morning to have to wait for caffeine. I poured myself a cup, took a first sip, a second gulp, then made Adam a mug and brought both upstairs.
I nudged the bathroom door open with my hip and went in. Adam was still showering and the room was full of steam. I set both mugs on the counter and wiped a clear spot on the mirror.
“Morning,” I said. “I brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks, babe,” Adam called back cheerfully.
He's abnormally chipper in the morning. We are complete opposites in this respect.
I frowned, analyzed my reflection in the blurry glass, and frowned again. Even through the vapor I could see I looked tired. There was nearly an inch of outgrowth on my highlights, my blue eyes were flat and there were purple circles underneath. My tan was fading and my skin's golden tone was yellowing.
The water turned off. Adam stepped out from behind the glass and wrapped himself in a thick, beige towel. He meticulously dried his feet on the bath mat, then met me at the counter and gave me a kiss on the cheek. His face was soft and smelled slightly of eucalyptus. I turned to him and noticed a small patch of hair on his jawline.
“You missed a spot,” I said.
“Did I?” he asked, and felt for it.
“Let me help you with that,” I offered, and reached for the razor in its cup.
“It's okay. I've got it,” Adam assured.
He cleaned a spot on the mirror with his towel, wrapped it back around his waist, and found the patch. I put some toothpaste on my toothbrush and watched as he wet his shaving brush, swirled it in the soap and applied the lather to his face. The patch was no bigger than two, maybe three millimeters, but it didn't matter to Adam. Everything must be done in a certain way.
My teeth were brushed, my mouth rinsed by the time he'd finished. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
“You know you're ridiculous, don't you?”
“Laurel, the only way to do things is to do them right.”
His face was earnest, but a smile crept on it. He's fully aware of his idiosyncrasies. I smiled back. I'm aware of them as well, and some things cannot be helped.
“Yes, well, your coffee's getting cold.”
He took a sip.
“Not yet, babe. Lukewarm, just like I like it.”
***
xo. kb.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Research
If research were a Transformer it would be named Distractionator, but it would be an Autobot because it's totally necessary and good.
NaNo. *Sigh* If you've been reading along on my blog, you know that I already have my songs and lyrics, and have created something of a poem to lead me. As of a few days ago, I have my characters named (purposefully) and am now writing little blurbs and summaries of each chapter. Generally I do this as I go, but with the goal of 2000 words a day and the estimated chapter size of 4600 words, I'm feeling like it'd be best to have something to work with ahead of time. So I can finish. And so I can celebrate Thanksgiving without excessive guilt and freaking out.
Anyway, I'm planning Chapter 1 and my MC (Laurel- $5 for real if you can guess what/why) has Bunco plans for her Friday night. (Because she's a suburban mom and that's what a lot of suburban moms do one Friday night a month.) I actually have never played Bunco, but I understand it uses dice and a ton of wine must be involved. So now I have to look up Bunco and figure out how to play. And I'm considering hosting a party one night this month so I can see how it plays out. Or you could just invite me to your Bunco night and I'll bring a bottle. Whichever.
So I'm only in Chapter 1 planning and already totally distracted, and it reminds me of all the research I've done for past novels. With JALR I was all up in Millennium Park, the Shedd Aquarium, and running.
WCP had me researching dresses, dresses, and more dresses. And baseball. The story takes place during the 2003 NLCS/ALCS and World Series. I now know more than I should about those games/series. Truly. Want to see my notes?
ATW takes place mostly in MC Amanda's condo, so I had to do Chicago neighborhood and housing research (and am still getting listing emails), then had to figure out how the condo's interior looked. I spent an entire morning drawing a rough sketch.
And then I had to decorate, so spent over an hour looking at Persian rugs. I found the perfect one, and at a deal. Amanda was so proud of me.
It's a huge time-consumer, but I think that the extra research I do as a writer makes me more able to see my character's world. I want to understand how she lives. And I want my readers (all two of you) to be able to experience it as well. Just like you're there, like you've fallen into a Pensieve and are watching, rather than reading words on a page.
Listening to: my NaNo playlist
xo. kb.
NaNo. *Sigh* If you've been reading along on my blog, you know that I already have my songs and lyrics, and have created something of a poem to lead me. As of a few days ago, I have my characters named (purposefully) and am now writing little blurbs and summaries of each chapter. Generally I do this as I go, but with the goal of 2000 words a day and the estimated chapter size of 4600 words, I'm feeling like it'd be best to have something to work with ahead of time. So I can finish. And so I can celebrate Thanksgiving without excessive guilt and freaking out.
Anyway, I'm planning Chapter 1 and my MC (Laurel- $5 for real if you can guess what/why) has Bunco plans for her Friday night. (Because she's a suburban mom and that's what a lot of suburban moms do one Friday night a month.) I actually have never played Bunco, but I understand it uses dice and a ton of wine must be involved. So now I have to look up Bunco and figure out how to play. And I'm considering hosting a party one night this month so I can see how it plays out. Or you could just invite me to your Bunco night and I'll bring a bottle. Whichever.
So I'm only in Chapter 1 planning and already totally distracted, and it reminds me of all the research I've done for past novels. With JALR I was all up in Millennium Park, the Shedd Aquarium, and running.
WCP had me researching dresses, dresses, and more dresses. And baseball. The story takes place during the 2003 NLCS/ALCS and World Series. I now know more than I should about those games/series. Truly. Want to see my notes?
ATW takes place mostly in MC Amanda's condo, so I had to do Chicago neighborhood and housing research (and am still getting listing emails), then had to figure out how the condo's interior looked. I spent an entire morning drawing a rough sketch.
And then I had to decorate, so spent over an hour looking at Persian rugs. I found the perfect one, and at a deal. Amanda was so proud of me.
It's a huge time-consumer, but I think that the extra research I do as a writer makes me more able to see my character's world. I want to understand how she lives. And I want my readers (all two of you) to be able to experience it as well. Just like you're there, like you've fallen into a Pensieve and are watching, rather than reading words on a page.
Listening to: my NaNo playlist
xo. kb.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Chapters.
Here are the chapters, the lines I've chosen. It tells the story, I think.
Oh mirror in the sky- What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Always hoping for something quicker than heaven
To make the damage of her days disappear
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
A part of my own sense of what is right
A part of my own sense of where it went wrong
Too long been keeping my love confined
You tore me out of myself alive
I’ve brought this on us more than anyone could ignore
What I’ve done, what I’ve done, what I’ve done
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you
We knew when she landed
Three days she’d stay
Your lover who just walked out the door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor
And now we can’t even touch it
Afraid it’ll fall apart
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of living is gone
I kind of love it.
xo. kb.
Oh mirror in the sky- What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Always hoping for something quicker than heaven
To make the damage of her days disappear
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
A part of my own sense of what is right
A part of my own sense of where it went wrong
Too long been keeping my love confined
You tore me out of myself alive
I’ve brought this on us more than anyone could ignore
What I’ve done, what I’ve done, what I’ve done
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you
We knew when she landed
Three days she’d stay
Your lover who just walked out the door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor
And now we can’t even touch it
Afraid it’ll fall apart
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of living is gone
I kind of love it.
xo. kb.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Initial NaNo planning.
So I did it. I officially signed up for NaNoWriMo. I have mixed feelings about this.
My first three novels were written out of a need to hash out some things I had going on. The ideas weren't planned, and the stories came from me, something like Athena. Here now is my first attempt to write something I'm not specifically emotionally dealing with. So I'm building from nothing. But I have a few ideas, and, of course, they came to me at 2:30 in the morning. (Thanks Elsie, for licking my knee and waking me up.)
What I'm working with right now:
A Playlist.
I asked for songs, and ten of you shared. Here's the list.
"Burn" Jeremy Enigk
"Jack and Diane" John Mellencamp
"Fascist Architecture" Bruce Cockburn
"Cosmic Love" Florence + the Machine
"Landslide" Fleetwood Mac
"Guinevere" Eli Young Band
"I Don't Feel It Anymore" William Fitzsimmons (featuring Priscilla Ahn)
"Into The Mystic" Van Morrison
"It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" Bob Dylan
"3 Days" Jane's Addiction
"Carry The Zero" Built To Spill
The Chapters
I thank Doug Martsch (Built To Spill) for the idea for this one. He's got this fantastic song called "You Were Right" that borrows lines from famous songs, and turns it into a story. For instance, "You were right when you said all that glitters isn't gold/ you were right when you said all we are is dust in the wind/ you were right when you said we're all just bricks in the wall/ and when you said manic depression's a frustrated mess/ You were wrong when you said everything's gonna be alright."
He uses that line from Jack and Diane "Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone" and I can't hear Mellencamp without thinking of BTS. I was trying and trying to think of what to do with that completely incongruous list of songs, and listening to them, waiting for inspiration. Of course, it came to me on the elliptical. Kind of a take-off from "You Were Right", I'll pick a line from each song and use it somehow in a chapter. So the novel will have 11 chapters, the same as the number of songs.
The Story
So I've got the songs, and a basic idea of how I'm going to approach the structure, but absolutely no idea what this is going to be about. I've been poking around other NaNo's pages, and people have outlines, white boards of ideas, full synopses already written. Okay, so I'm a pantser, but jeez. I should probably have a little more done.
I was up this morning (thanks again Elsie!) doing the toss/turn thing, and letting my mind float around in the way that sometimes helps you fall back asleep. Problem is, my mind tends toward things that get me riled up and I started thinking about that stupid comment from Anonymous several weeks back. It really pissed me off. But then I thought, What if a person was trying to find love while within the confines of their marriage? And then I thought about FREEDOM, that post about "Perfection" I read by @danoah, and about a comment a customer made years ago that struck me, "I used to listen to good music. I'd forgotten that about myself."
Idea!
I'm going to write about a woman's infidelity.
I wonder if this story's not a little like calling decoupage art, since all my ideas have come from outside sources, but I suppose inspiration can come from anywhere. And, really, there's no such thing as an original idea. Anyway, it's just 50K, it's just a month, and this exercise is more about me working on my writing than working on a project I adore.
Listening to: I should be listening to my NaNo playlist, but I'm actually listening to my WHERE CURRENTS PULL playlist.
xo. kb.
My first three novels were written out of a need to hash out some things I had going on. The ideas weren't planned, and the stories came from me, something like Athena. Here now is my first attempt to write something I'm not specifically emotionally dealing with. So I'm building from nothing. But I have a few ideas, and, of course, they came to me at 2:30 in the morning. (Thanks Elsie, for licking my knee and waking me up.)
What I'm working with right now:
A Playlist.
I asked for songs, and ten of you shared. Here's the list.
"Burn" Jeremy Enigk
"Jack and Diane" John Mellencamp
"Fascist Architecture" Bruce Cockburn
"Cosmic Love" Florence + the Machine
"Landslide" Fleetwood Mac
"Guinevere" Eli Young Band
"I Don't Feel It Anymore" William Fitzsimmons (featuring Priscilla Ahn)
"Into The Mystic" Van Morrison
"It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" Bob Dylan
"3 Days" Jane's Addiction
"Carry The Zero" Built To Spill
The Chapters
I thank Doug Martsch (Built To Spill) for the idea for this one. He's got this fantastic song called "You Were Right" that borrows lines from famous songs, and turns it into a story. For instance, "You were right when you said all that glitters isn't gold/ you were right when you said all we are is dust in the wind/ you were right when you said we're all just bricks in the wall/ and when you said manic depression's a frustrated mess/ You were wrong when you said everything's gonna be alright."
He uses that line from Jack and Diane "Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone" and I can't hear Mellencamp without thinking of BTS. I was trying and trying to think of what to do with that completely incongruous list of songs, and listening to them, waiting for inspiration. Of course, it came to me on the elliptical. Kind of a take-off from "You Were Right", I'll pick a line from each song and use it somehow in a chapter. So the novel will have 11 chapters, the same as the number of songs.
The Story
So I've got the songs, and a basic idea of how I'm going to approach the structure, but absolutely no idea what this is going to be about. I've been poking around other NaNo's pages, and people have outlines, white boards of ideas, full synopses already written. Okay, so I'm a pantser, but jeez. I should probably have a little more done.
I was up this morning (thanks again Elsie!) doing the toss/turn thing, and letting my mind float around in the way that sometimes helps you fall back asleep. Problem is, my mind tends toward things that get me riled up and I started thinking about that stupid comment from Anonymous several weeks back. It really pissed me off. But then I thought, What if a person was trying to find love while within the confines of their marriage? And then I thought about FREEDOM, that post about "Perfection" I read by @danoah, and about a comment a customer made years ago that struck me, "I used to listen to good music. I'd forgotten that about myself."
Idea!
I'm going to write about a woman's infidelity.
I wonder if this story's not a little like calling decoupage art, since all my ideas have come from outside sources, but I suppose inspiration can come from anywhere. And, really, there's no such thing as an original idea. Anyway, it's just 50K, it's just a month, and this exercise is more about me working on my writing than working on a project I adore.
Listening to: I should be listening to my NaNo playlist, but I'm actually listening to my WHERE CURRENTS PULL playlist.
xo. kb.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
What's your favorite song?
I've been hearing a lot of authors talk about NaNoWriMo. The first time an author mentioned NaNo, I asked her if it was a chemical compound. I'm pretty sure she was laughing when she informed me it was short for National Novel Writing Month, which is November. I checked out the website to learn more, and found that it's this huge thing. Authors sign up on the page, and the goal is to write a 50K word novel by the end of November. The site even word counts for you when you 'cross the finish line.' The point is to get people who might be intimidated by the enormous undertaking of writing a novel to sit down and produce; it's just one month, it's just 50,000 words. It's about quantity and not quality, so lower your expectations and just put out words.
Sounds cool, right?
For someone else, right? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I've got what's trending toward a complete rewrite instead of a revision on one ms, edits on another, and its query letter to write/revise/get critiqued/send out. So I really should focus on those things. On the other hand, I've been struggling with finding a solid idea for my next ms, and this might give me something to work with. 50,000 words to work with, which makes NaNoWriMo pretty appealing to me.
If you've read my blog, or if you're one of my two friends, you know that I get my titles from song lyrics. I've also been toying with the idea to write a novel based conceptually around one album. Not sure if I'm ready for that one just yet, but I think there's merit in the idea. I want to try a twist on that, and I'm hoping you'll help.
I'm asking you to let me know your favorite song- like favorite song of all time, the one that you'd take with you if you were deserted on an island- and list it in the comment section below this post.
I'm going to make myself a playlist of the songs and try to write an outline of a story around them. If I can figure out a way to make it all make sense, that'll be my story for NaNoWriMo.
I'll start. My favorite song of all time is "Burn" by Jeremy Enigk.
xo. kb.
Sounds cool, right?
For someone else, right? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I've got what's trending toward a complete rewrite instead of a revision on one ms, edits on another, and its query letter to write/revise/get critiqued/send out. So I really should focus on those things. On the other hand, I've been struggling with finding a solid idea for my next ms, and this might give me something to work with. 50,000 words to work with, which makes NaNoWriMo pretty appealing to me.
If you've read my blog, or if you're one of my two friends, you know that I get my titles from song lyrics. I've also been toying with the idea to write a novel based conceptually around one album. Not sure if I'm ready for that one just yet, but I think there's merit in the idea. I want to try a twist on that, and I'm hoping you'll help.
I'm asking you to let me know your favorite song- like favorite song of all time, the one that you'd take with you if you were deserted on an island- and list it in the comment section below this post.
I'm going to make myself a playlist of the songs and try to write an outline of a story around them. If I can figure out a way to make it all make sense, that'll be my story for NaNoWriMo.
I'll start. My favorite song of all time is "Burn" by Jeremy Enigk.
xo. kb.
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