O Frabjous Day!

There is something about holding the actual book that is so much more real than looking at the ebook pdf or the endless Word document. Seeing my name in print on the shiny cover is seductive. It makes me think of possibilities and reminds me of childhood dreams abandoned long ago.
I signed up for NaNoWriMo on a whim. (Thanks, Jenn!) Characters who had been living a half-life in my head came rushing out onto the pages. They got on my nerves sometimes, when they'd do unplanned things, wander off, appear out of nowhere, or change genders or species. The goal of writing 50,000 words in 30 was just crazy enough to be exhilarating.
I didn't know about the 'prize' when I started. One of the Nanoites told me about it at a write-in. Six months seemed like plenty of time to rewrite the book into something worth printing. It might have been, if I had been as focused as I was during the month of November. But for assorted reasons, many of them having to do with laziness, procrastination and unemployment, most of the rewriting happened in the last thirty days. I may be a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Instead of jumping out of planes or off of bridges, I write against a crazy deadline.
There's still a lot of rewriting to be done. Scenes need to be fleshed out, characters need to be developed, and I'm sure that there are some gaping plot holes waiting to be filled. But right now, I feel good. There's a 300 page book in my hands, and I wrote it.

Goslings & Ducklings & Faeries, Oh My!

One can't spend the entire weekend working in the garden (pulling weeds while being swarmed by tiny green bugs is not happy fun time) so we escaped to the park this morning. This is not the most in-focus dragonfly photo I've taken, but I love the transparency of the wings. This was the only cooperative dragonfly today.

The snow melt is well underway. Most of the year this part of the creek is shallow and clear. Not right now. This is the Goose Family's version of white water rafting. I did not get a photo of the goslings jumping off the bank into the creek. Their tiny wings don't work well for gliding; it was more of a plummeting into the water.

A domestic goose has integrated into the flock of Canadian geese.

See how tiny the wings are in comparison to the body? Geese are so cute at this awkward, fuzzy stage.

These are not Mallards, but I don't know what kind of ducks they are.

I finally got around to replacing the faery house. The last one I made was crushed by the snow over the winter. I went with a woven house this year. I haven't done basket weaving since fourth grade. It's very soothing. Perhaps that's why it's so popular in mental institutions.

This is the beginning of the roof. Kitty enjoys basket weaving. Actually, what he enjoys is playing with the reeds as one is trying to work.

It's hard to tell from the photo, but that's a beaded swing.

The finished house.

I've neglected my novel since beginning my new job (which is going very well). So tomorrow, I am taking the day off from manual labor (six days a week is plenty!) and concentrating on the book . I may have to work at the library; sometimes it's easier to work away from home. I have 24 days before the deadline. One of the characters has decided to change species. Sigh.

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".

I did it!

I not only reached the goal of 50K words, I exceeded the goal. Probably due in no small part to the numerous repetitions of 'flying vampire monkey demons' in the 'flying vampire monkey demons attack the elementary school during recess' chapter. I'm hoping to come up with a better name for them during the editing process.
I have a personal goal of 75,000 words (25,000 words in 8 days, 4 of which are days off from work. I can do it!) I still have an ambush, a desperate duel, a destiny revealed and a Conjuration of Doom to get through. Not to mention a tidy wrap up that lays the ground for a possible sequel. Right now though, I will take my victorious self to bed. 5am won't come any later just because I HAVE WRITTEN MY FIRST NOVEL!!!!!