A Writer to an Univited Character

Dear Attractive Manly Landscaper,

I did not plan for your appearance in my screenplay. But here you are, and it seems you are going to stay, no matter what upheavals it might inflict on my tenuous thread of a plot. I blame Mags, that mead-making Green Witch of a plant merchant from the farmer's market. Things were going along fine, until she up and gave your business card to the main character. This sort of reckless disregard for my intentions is very disconcerting. If this is how you people are going to behave, you should learn to type and just leave me out of it. What's that? You're all non corporeal and can't type your own stories? Well maybe you should have thought of that before.

Of maps and muses

I really should get up and turn on the light, but the cat is curled up behind the screen, peacefully sleeping on my legs. It's almost 5pm, there's still a bit of light left in the sky.

I have run into a wall of procrastination with editing my novel. Without the looming spectre of a ridiculous deadline it's hard to get any momentum going. Editing is a slow, deliberate process, unlike writing, which frequently happened in frenzied bursts in which characters drove the plot according to their own needs and desires.

They aren't as communicative right now, although brief moments of inspiration have appeared here and there, leaving a paper trail through morning pages, pocket notebook, virtual and real posty-notes, day planner and a scrap of baking parchment.

I'm breaking this down into smaller chunks this weekend. Step one, assemble the cast of characters: names, appearance, family, traits, and so on. Hopefully this will clear up glitches; the other day I noticed two characters had the same name.

Step two-map out the timeline of the story. It's rather muddled at this point. No wonder one character's age keeps fluctuating; he's as lost as I am.

Starting with plot and character outlines would have been sensible. That would have required starting with a plot, something I didn't have when I decided to do NaNoWriMo. I started with only a couple of characters who'd been trapped in my head for years, and a muddled thought process sparked by a friend's remark when I had a close encounter with an elk at the Estes Park Visitors Center. I signed up only a few days before the event began, and while I knew about outlines and plotting with posty-notes and string, I chose not to do that. If I had, I would have gotten so obsessed with organizing and reorganizing and color coding that I wouldn't have written a word.

I dove into the novel in true free writing style: just keep going and see where it takes you. The characters appeared, doing their own thing, driving the story, and sometimes going off in rather alarming directions. The plot started taking shape at about 30,000 words in. I finally saw where it was headed and was able to make an outline.

There's still so much I don't know about this world I created. Like..what it's called. Or how swords and sorcery coexist with high tech gadgets and high speed hovercrafts. Hopefully that will all clear up somewhere in the process.

I intend to have a readable version in time for the Createspace deadline for a free printed book. That's June. So, logically, working backward, break the task down into small manageable goals and proceed in an orderly direction. Somehow, I doubt that's how it's going to go. The process will likely be messy and chaotic, passionate bursts of creativity alternating with the slow plodding of mapping the trail and filling in plot holes.

I have two tasks for this weekend, but somehow I am struck with the need to do other things, any things, rather than recommit to this work. I think I am having to give up that fantasy about what being a writer is, the fantasy that one sits down and magnificent words roll out, all ready to be published into a prizewinning novel. No. That's not what being a writer is. Being a writer means showing up at the page and doing the work, for the sake of the work.

I read the following this morning here; it's worth posting somewhere I'll see it everyday.
"I was here. Where were you? signed, your Muse".

Stalled at 41,348 words

I don't know what comes next. I have an awful feeling that I have 40,000 plus words of back story. Oh well. The plot has given hints of making an appearance, it's gotten very dark, and is demanding additional sacrifices (in addition to sleep, sanity, and several not so important characters). One of my favorite characters is probably going to die so that another character can reach his destiny. Sucks to be a supporting player, doesn't it.

I was going to go to a cafe with my shiny new laptop, which now sports a NaNoWriMo sticker (from Monday's write-a-thon at Valhalla's. I also won two tiny tubs of playdoh and some coffee in the word wars). Instead I came home to do my exciting Friday night routine of laundry, cleaning, and bill paying. Virtuous procrastination, that' s the ticket.

Tomorrow I will go to the weekly write-in at Borders. The NaNoites take over the cafe for a few hours every Saturday in November. I have fallen in with the sci-fi/fantasy, Goth, RenFaire, role playing, pagan liberal writers. Really cheerful Goths - must be some kind of sub-sub-culture.

The point of word wars is to write as much as possible in an allotted time span - usually 10-15 minutes. If you want to win, you can't stop to correct, so I spent as much time after the word wars going back to fix all the typos as I did in the word war itself. They're still fun though.

I completely forgot to do Chapter 6 in the Artist's Way this week - I may try again on Sunday, or I may wait until the end of the month, when NaNoWriMo is over. Once it's done, I 'll have a few months of normal until Script Frenzy starts in April.

This is what procrastination looks like

I'm way behind in my homework and in a side project, so I rearranged furniture, went out with Chef to get stuff for my next costume, had lunch with a friend, cleaned house and made a cheese & veg tart (like quiche, but not so deep. Helpful. Not.

Now I'm wasting time on the computer. So, tag, I'm it with the six secrets game.

Six of my secrets:

1) I rearrange furniture when my energy feels stuck.

2)I take photos that make people say "What did you take that for?"

3) Given a choice between an 'art' film and one where stuff blows up, I will usually pick the one where stuff blows up.

4)My absolute favorite thing about pastry work is making dough.

5)I recently came to the surprising and somewhat painful realization that I am tired of being a spinster. This has thrown my perceptions of myself into a fair amount of turmoil.

6)Deja vu is a common occurance for me.

Ok, enough of procrastination. Time to go do some homework. Right now. I'm going......