So NaNoWriMo is over, and while I didn’t participate, I did try to write a little every day on A Boy and Her Scratch. I didn’t succeed, and I didn’t even come close to 50,000 words. But I’m okay with that.
The story and characters have solidified in the 10,338 words I’ve written on it, which is always a plus. I keep fighting the urge to go back and “fix” things because the first draft is supposed to look like word vomit, and it does, so yay! I’ve decided to keep writing this story until December 31st, and then at midnight, instead of turning into a pumpkin, I’ll start writing like a mad woman on What Gifts She Carried.
From January onward, I won’t be staying the night at work (something I did do in November), I won’t have as many loooong work days, and I won’t be going out of town. It gets too cold in Kansas to do anything but stay home in my pajamas and write anyway!
My point to all this rambling is that I’m trying this new thing where I don’t stress about writing. I let it happen, word by word. It’s slow going, but I’ll get there.
Does word count stress you out? Does getting the book finished twist your knickers?
Uh-oh! I didn’t do a blog post last week! That’s the first time in a while I’ve missed rambling about stuff and things. I blame my crappy internet connection and my serious lack of motivation.
Speaking of a serious lack of motivation, let’s talk May. This is the time of year when school children sit with hands folded on their desks, absorbing everything their smiling teacher wishes for them to learn. Right? Wait, what? You mean it’s not? It’s that time of year when school children are climbing the walls and the teachers stalk around with deep scowls etched into their faces?! Oh, yeah… it’s THAT time of year! What was I thinking?
So yep, that’s happening, except I don’t have a deep scowl on my face. I smell summer, and it’s making me drool. I can not WAIT to write the days away. I’ve been all itchy and giggly. HA! I’m just like the kids!
Perhaps I will turn into this in a few days when library books are due back, and some people who don’t think the rules apply to them will turn their books in the very last day of school:
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ï»żï»żBut I’ll get over it, yo. A summer full of writing will soon be here!
How about you? What are your plans for the summer?
P.S. For some strange reason, I’ve been saying ‘yo’ a lot in my head lately. I blame it on Jesse Pinkman from Breaking Bad. Or maybe it’s because of a lack of sugar and my brain is malfunctioning. Curse you, diet!ï»żï»żï»ż
Hey. Today I look like this:
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Only less blond. I will continue to look like this all week until Spring Break begins. I’m just checking in so you all know I’m alive. Mostly.ï»ż
There are times in life when I’m reminded why I like to live inside the world I create on paper. Last week was one of those times. A young woman died of cancer, and while I didn’t know this woman, I know her family. The entire community felt the crush of this family’s grief. All we could do was weep with them and wonder hopelessly how we could help ease their pain.
This is why I need to escape from reality and be in control of something. In real life, I’m not in control. Not really, anyway. Too many things can happen. Death can happen.
While writing The Grave Winner, I tried to imagine what it would be like to lose my mom since my main character had just lost hers. I didn’t want to face that kind of reality, and after awhile I didn’t have to since my MC took over for me. But at the beginning when I was trying to find my MC’s voice, I wrote what I imagined it would feel like. And it broke my heart.
I kept repeating, “This isn’t real. This isn’t real” with tears streaming down my cheeks. Thank goodness it wasn’t real. But I was in control of my fictional world. The MC’s mom’s death happened because I willed it to happen.
Real life doesn’t work like that, which is why real life sucks. And so does cancer.
P.S. Sorry for the downer post. Next week, I’ll puke up rainbows like this guy:
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My brain is incapable of coming up with anything to chype about. Except The Hunger Games. I could chype all day about that. But I won’t because I’m hungry. Here’s the teaser trailer:
A drama-free life is a happy life, so that’s what I strive for. I leave the jaw-dropping plots to my characters. But I do occasionally throw in some tiny details from my life into my stories. For example, spiders. I hate them. They skitter sideways on creepy, hairy legs and are too unpredictable. I will screech and run away whenever I see one. Yet they’re in my current story. Lots of them. Why? Because I’m trying to face my fears. And because two dead spiders, a mama and a baby, are stuck to my garage wall, and have been since I moved in since I refuse to do anything about them. Moms and babies play a large part in my story, so I thought, “Why not spiders?” While writing the spidery scenes, I freaked myself out. So much for facing my fears.
Another thing I threw into the story from real life were lyrics to an awesome song I like to play on the game Rock Band. It’s The Fratellis’s “Creepin’ Up the Backstairs.” Here’s the song:
One line from the lyrics is “Take your brother’s car keys.” That’s why Jo is always taking her brother’s car keys. It fits her personality too.
So how about you? Do you search for drama in real life or strive for drama-free living? What are some things you take from real life to put in your stories?