Maybe Punky Brewster had it right; matching socks are death to creativity. But as you can see, The Kid is having no such footwear related crisis, it seems as she continues along...
I wrote 2000 words today, all utter rubbish.
Trash, refuse, and any other ugly adjective you want to attach to them- all nonsense. And I do hate writing nonsense.
I've got scenes out of sequences, I've got bits of dialogue and pieces of plotline just sticking out here and there like wayward strands of hair (and I need a haircut desperately- I feel like an old English Sheep Dog...Or the Fifth Beatle and believe you me, that look does not work on me.)
I'm not sure how the hell ever to use any of the aforementioned garbage cohesively. I think the ending is far too cluttered now and I'm resisting with all my might not to edit (do not injure angels...do not injure angels...I'm trying, Chris...I'm trying...)
I am now suffering from a major case of brain fry.
I am completely distracted.
I think I might have to paint for the rest of the night and have done the rest of it all for today.
I've been posting in the 'say something nice about the excerpt of the person above you' thread in the NaNoWriMo Ate My Soul forum and people are so kind. So very kind, though, that it makes me worry that the excerpt is the best part of the book.
I fear Edna has not only been sighted, but she is loose from her duct-taped throne and she is majorly pissed at me...
Does she not look pissed off to you? She scares me on days like today.
Maybe the problem today is that my socks match.
Though I believe that the distraction goes farther than that.
I shall have to ponder this over more coffee, a cookie or two, or half a box of Twinkies...
I hope your day of NaNo-ing is going better than mine.
In the YWP Department; My kid (Young Writers Program newb) begged to stay up until 2 am writing.
Then this afternoon she had a glorious moment of pure epiphany when she was staring out the window, lost in thought. After a few moments silent (for her a new world's record, usually if she's awake, she's talking) reflection, she just looked up at me and said "I've got it."
"I've GOT IT!!!" She ran to the computer and started clacking away. I didn't dare interrupt.
Half an hour later she says, "The last piece of the story just fell into place, Mom. I know how it's all going to work out now."
It was a beautiful thing to see that moment of inspiration in her eyes. And it's just too adorable to see her hiding out in pajamas and her fuzzy, Muppet-like bathrobe and just writing and dreaming all day (and before you think she's truant, she's privately educated- (the term 'homeschooling' bothers me on many levels but that's another post). She wasn't missing school she was engaging in it. Since they use the YWP in classrooms all over, I feel completely justified letting her focus mostly on her writing during this most sacred month of NaNoWriMo.
Last night she did something so funny.
She, like her mother, is inspired by music when she's writing. So she had her headphones on and she's singing along with a song...
Then something goes wrong- she hit a wrong key on the computer and lost some text and we hear...
"YeaaNO! NO NO NO NO NO!"
Fortunately the text was recovered or else this story would no longer be funny, but this is not my point. My point is...
She instantly changed from being an innocent, sweet little baby Jonas Brothers fan to being Bernard Black (and yes, I say it wrong, over here it's "Ber-nard" not "Bernerd"...I'm from the Midwestern USA, what do you expect, clear and proper diction? and yes I'm just teasing back those who have teased me...though I didn't mind the teasing in the least.)
In that perfect, comedic instant and it showed she has truly embraced the spirit of what it is to be a Wrimo.
Which is entirely different than being a rhino, which is what someone thought I had said today when I said "Wrimo".
I don't know what it is to be a rhino, exactly. Though I imagine it has its advantages and disadvantages I honestly hope never to get to know one well enough to find out.
They have pointy things protruding from their faces and like to aim them at you. I don't want one to decide he'd like to aim it at me, that doesn't sound at all like a good time.
I'm still debating about going to the official regional write-in...I don't think we have it in us tomorrow to make it been a long week. But next week, just maybe...why am I nervous about this? I don't know. Maybe because deep down, I'm a hermit.
Keep writing all! My goal is a minimum of 5k more words by Sunday night- sharing the computers that will be interesting.
I'd rather say I'd like to have 7k more but I'm hoping for 5k that's not utter trash...
Edna says I don't have a prayer. That just makes me want to get out two mismatched fuzzy striped socks, put one on each foot and say "Nyah."