NaNoWriMo Progress

I turned out to be a lot busier than I thought I would be in the days following the kick-off of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and it wasn't due to my new and improved novelling habits...

It's day three of NaNoWriMo and I'm off to an okay start so far. I was hoping to make it to 5,000 words by the end of the day, but I might be fooling myself.

Here is how my progress has been thus far:

Day 0 - Saturday - Preparation

My husband, who had been on a business trip to LA was due back on a late flight. I decided to completely reorganise our office/studio space.

This involved:

- getting rid of an ancient computer

- taking apart my desk and getting rid of the upper shelving portion of it

- throwing away a lot of old rubbish

- emptying much of the room's contents and then putting them back together in a nicer configuration

- frantic hoovering at 10pm

At the end of it I was rewarded with a lovely writing space that glowed in the soft light of two well-placed (if I say so myself) lamps. The studio equipment formed another portion of the room, with instruments and gear being grouped nicely for accessibility.

So even though I didn't get to fleshing out character profiles and thinking more about plot issues, I was very happy to have an inviting writing area, and thankfully my husband loved the changes to the studio portion too!

Day 1 - Sunday - Beginning

Our clocks went back this weekend, so we had the added bonus of an extra hour's rest. Even so, we had a fairly lazy morning, getting out the door only just in time to meet friends of ours.

We had a lovely visit with them, and a nice stroll home. I was reluctant to spend too much time shut away from P as he'd only just come home, but I was also eager and anxious to get started. I spent nearly two hours in my writer's den, and at 1,835 words, I managed to exceed my word count goal for the day.

Day 2 - Monday

A full day in the office. I managed to take a couple of short breaks and write at lunchtime. I didn't make my word count goal of the day, but I got up to 3,400 words which meant I was still on track (the minimum word count per day in order to make it to 50,000 is 1,667 words per day).

After work I had to go straight off to meet P where we had the most amazing evening at the taping of an episode of Elvis Costello's 'Spectacle'. It was incredible, after they had everything they needed for the show, Elvis and the Imposters let loose with an impromptu concert, indulging us with 'just one more' every time.

We got back quite late as a result and morning came quickly, but it was very well worth the bleary eyes!

Day 3 - Tuesday

Today I'm not doing quite so well. The clock is ticking and I've only managed to write a measly 282 words on my breaks at work.

Tonight we are heading to my in-laws straight after work. They are snowbirds, heading south for the winter, and we want to spend some time with them before they leave this weekend.

So although it looks as though I will fall quite short of my 5,000 word target, we'll be having a nice evening, and a lovely dinner will be made for us - no complaints here.

I'm resigned to the fact that I might be playing catch-up on Wednesday and Thursday and that's okay with me. If I can make it to 10k before Saturday is up, I'll be very happy indeed.

Now - less words here - more on my manuscript!

Late Bus

This page is blank and I don't want it to be. I start to fill it, letting my pen drift over white space, needing to cover it.

The drunk man on the bus is staring at me. He burps and peers closer; I avoid his gaze. He gets off at the next stop and I am relieved. It's quiet now, we've passed restaurants and bars, and the revellers have left. These people are going home.

The bus stops and I still have a while to travel. My feet are cold. I am tired but alert. I want to slip into warm slippers and a dressing gown, cradle a steaming mug of something comforting. Spicy and sweet. I want to curl up with a book in a room that dances in the lively flames of a fireplace.

Instead, I look around and see I am one of three on a cold and lonely bus. The traffic lights are tediously long. My toes are icicles now, and my shoulder is sore. I must remember...there are things wafting around my mind that I must remember. I should write them down but I don't. I can't or won't.

The bus driver gets back on the bus. He left to buy a coffee, I hadn't even noticed. It wasn't the traffic light that had been taking so long, it was him.

Now I am weary. My writing is strange and unfamiliar, if I think hard, I do recognise the untidy scrawl - but is it mine?

Empty pages drift away, giving way to spidery black ones.

Unintelligible ramblings in indecipherable handwriting.

EK 2009

Happy Birthday Charles Ives

Charles Ives (1874-1954) has long been a favourite of mine. His music isn't for everyone, it can be quite challenging on the ears, but I love it in all its zany glory because it has so much life in it.

He was an incredible man that lived a double life of composer and businessman. In business hours he was the director of a very successful insurance agency; the rest of his time was spent devoted to music.

Amazingly, he kept the two sides of his life completely separate, so that almost no one at the agency was aware of his musical talent, and his musical associates were oblivious to the changes he was bringing to the insurance business.

So here's to Mr. Ives - Happy 135th!

"A song has a few rights, the same as other ordinary citizen. If it feels like walking along the left-hand side of the street, passing the door of physiology or sitting on the curb, why not let it? If it feels like kicking over an ash can, a poet's castle, or the prosodic law, will you stop it? ...Should it not have a chance to sing itself, if it can sing? - to enjoy itself without making a bow, if it can't make a bow? - to swim around in any ocean, if it can swim, without having to swallow 'hook and bait,' or being sunk by an operatic greyhound? If it happens to feel like trying to fly where humans cannot fly, to sing what cannot be sung, to walk in a cave on all fours, or to tighten up its girth in blind hope and faith and try to scale mountains that are not, who shall stop it?

- In short, must a song always be a song!"

- Charles Ives

from the postface to 114 Songs

Recommended Reading

I have to point you to this wonderful essay on writing by Alexander Chee

Annie Dillard and the Writing Life

Thanks to Gary Smailes of Bubblecow for tweeting it to my attention.

(Follow @Bubblecow on twitter for excellent writing and publishing tips and advice)

Blogsplash!

I'm very pleased to say that Tangledally will be participating in Fiona Robyn's Blogsplash.

Fiona Robyn is going to blog her next novel, Thaw, starting on the 1st of March next year.

The novel follows 32 year old Ruth’s diary over three months as she decides whether or not to carry on living.

To help spread the word she’s organising a Blogsplash, where blogs will publish the first page of Ruth’s diary simultaneously (and a link to the blog).

She’s aiming to get 1000 blogs involved – if you’d be interested in joining in, email her at fiona@fionarobyn.com or find out more information here.

Best of luck Fiona!