About Writing

Why NaNoWriMo Sucks

Autumn

I’m not a fan of NaNoWriMo.

Yes, I’m fully aware of the intention behind it, but you know what they say about good intentions. When it comes to practical application, NaNoWriMo sets writers up to fail.

NaNoWriMo is not compatible with real life.

The one time I tried NaNoWriMo, I met my husband instead. Didn’t even come close to finishing.

Fact is, you can’t neglect significant others and children for an entire month without ramifications. People are going to get mad at you.

Not to mention, November kicks off the start of the holiday season, so if you’re planning on celebrating Thanksgiving or putting up Christmas decorations, it’s going to create a conflict. Conflict = stress = writer’s block.

And if you catch the coronavirus and are down sick for a week? Forget it. You can’t catch up.

You’re going to burn out.

People talk about this one a lot. They start off on fire and easily meet the daily word requirements, then completely lose all steam three weeks in and struggle to write a single sentence.

Do you take a week off, eat donuts and cruise around the neighborhood looking for Christmas lights to give yourself a break and recharge? No. Because then you’ll miss the deadline and fail.

50,000 words over four weeks is too much of a sprint for most people to handle. Remember, using your brain also drains your physical energy, and you’re trying to do the mental equivalent of running a 4-minute mile.

It’s better to pace yourself.

It can attach negative feelings to your novel.

Say you did your absolute best, but at the end of the month you only managed 30,000 words.

Then what?

Do you plow ahead and take another five months to finish, or do you become upset at your failure and quit writing altogether until the next November rolls around?

What if you lose interest in your novel because you associate it with feelings of pressure and stress?

Do you stuff those 30,000 words away in some folder hidden on your laptop and never think about them again?

Then what was the point?

Set up good writing habits that will see you through the long term.

It took me seven months to hit 50,000 words in Alice and the Warden. That includes taking two months off to have a baby, and plenty of days where I didn’t get around to writing. I’m satisfied with my progress, and I still have a life. I’m also very glad that I took the time to let the story grow and evolve, instead of rushing towards the end. The joy is in the journey.

Think about your story all the time.

It doesn’t matter if you’re driving to pick up burgers, folding laundry, or sitting in the dentist chair; think about your story. You know those moments when you feel restless and tend to go for instagram as a distraction? Don’t. Fidget uncomfortably, chew your fingernails, and think about your story.

Thinking about your story keeps it fresh in your mind, and motivates you to keep writing as new ideas and scenes come to you. Even if you’re lost about where to go next, keep thinking about what you’ve already written and figure out how to improve it. It will keep you open to inspiration.

Also, if you don’t like the idea enough to think about it daily for an entire year, make it more exciting.

Take care of your body.

Exercise, eat good food, spend time outside, and sleep. Our brains are connected to our bodies, and oftentimes writers block is your body’s way of crying out for better care. Instead of agonizing over an empty page, get up and do something. Even something as small as knitting can help get those juices flowing again. Or take a nap.

Remember, progress is progress.

If all you write on a given day is a single sentence, congratulate yourself. A sentence is progress, and progress is good. Don’t measure yourself in numerical terms of word count versus days passed, but instead on how you feel and experience the journey. Have fun, and keep moving forward.

A little trick that I like to use is, when I know how I want a scene to play out but I can’t get the words to flow, I deliberately write it in the stupidest way I can think of. It takes the pressure off, and gives me something that I can work with to edit and rewrite. It’s also good for a laugh.

Go ahead and participate in NaNoWriMo if you want to. There are authors who finish and publish their NaNoWriMo novels, so it is possible. However, I strongly recommend that you begin with a willingness to fail, and the assumption that you’ll continue writing through December, January, February, etc. Writing should ultimately be about self-expression and creativity, and it’s better to take the time to really enjoy yourself than it is to rigidly speed through to completion.

Stories

Concept Story – The Goddess Mask

Autumn

I had wanted to write a fun short story for Halloween, but that ain’t happenin this year.

I did come across this concept story that I had written in 2011, for one of my more surreal ideas, though.

Good enough.

Esriel shivered, holding the brick tighter in her hand, fearful that the rain could compromise her ability to use it. In a moment the girl would be close enough, and Esriel would fix her mistake. It had been wrong of her to descend to the lower realm, and unfortunate that she had been seen. It was disastrous for the girl, however, that she had chosen to follow Esriel.

Never leave a loose end.

The girl was clumsy. Her breathing was loud, and her footsteps louder. She kicked pebbles, and cursed when she unexpectedly stepped into a puddle, soaking her shoe up to her ankle. Then, just barely out of position, she stopped.

“I saw you . . .” she began, her voice quavering. “I want to know . . .”

For a moment there was a twinge. No, she thought, never back down. Never let a mistake go unfixed. It wasn’t guaranteed to be a killing blow at that range, but it would do enough damage to let the second one do its work.

“Please, come out . . .”

Closing her eyes, Esriel steeled herself for the task and began to slowly count down. Three . . . two . . .

The signal.

Esriel’s eyes snapped open, the urge to obey already tearing at her body. She couldn’t leave the girl here, not with what she had seen. Willing herself to believe that she didn’t have any other choice, Esriel bounded out of the alcove that she had hidden herself in and grabbed hold of the girl’s shirt, dragging her along as her form shifted and dissipated, taking both of them to the higher realm.

About Me

Personal Note

Autumn

This is the time of year when I typically slack off from writing and put more energy into holiday activities, but there’s a good chance that this year is going to be completely different. For starters, I have no interest in taking the kids out Christmas shopping.

I might get more into holiday baking, since I’ve always wanted to make one of those chocolate yule log cakes, but have always been too intimidated to try. Might as well give it a shot.

It’s hard to say what the next two months are going to look like, honestly.

Writing is my selfish activity. I love children — my kindergarten dream was to be a mom — but they scream a lot and make big messes. Writing is how I maintain my internal balance so I can deal. With the way the kids have been acting of late, I’m going to be doing a lot of dealing this winter. I’m gonna need as much balance as I can get.

And cake.

I have no clue if I’m going to be slacking off or not.

About Me

Piano Therapy

Autumn

Through happenstance, we ended up with a free piano.

My husband and I have been jokingly referring to it as the ‘biggest mistake of our adult lives’, since the children have been excitedly pounding on the keys every chance they get. My husband taught our 8-year-old how to play ‘Mary had a little lamb,’ I taught her ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star’, and we’ve been listening to her adorable little recitals several times a day ever since.

I can still slowly plink my way through simple songs, even though it’s been close to 20 years since I took lessons. At least I still remember how to read sheet music.

I’m wondering how feasible it is to fit in practice sessions every day when I have five children, a bunch of other hobbies and responsibilities, and the holidays are quickly approaching. But, at the same time, it feels wonderfully good to have my fingers dancing with the music.

Piano therapy.

Because it’s 2020.

(Seriously, things are getting weird around here).

So, this year I’ll be learning how to play Christmas carols.

Alice and the Warden, Stories

Gud Riting

Autumn

Outside, Damon kicked something or other and threw a major fit, picking up a lawn gnome and hefting it over the fence.

Miranda asserted, “Calm down! We can use this to our advantage!”

“No, we’re going to drop it,” Damon explained. “We don’t have a case.”

“What do you mean?” Miranda inquired.

“I kissed her first,” Damon confessed.

~OR~

Having egressed from the abode, Damon sulkily perambulated about the premises, seeking to obviate himself of his indignation, and finding outlet in his frustration through the act of kicking some object or other before truculently hefting a hapless garden gnome through the air with an ungainly heave of his torso.

Miranda ejaculated, “Calm down! We can use this disadvantage to our advantage!”

“I’m afraid that I must disagree,” Damon countered obstinately, “There are major show stoppers preventing us from leveraging the turnabout successfully.”

“I need your hot, throbbing elucidation,” Miranda desperately entreated the roguish dandy, her bosom heaving breathlessly.

“I must woefully confess that my passions overcame my better judgement,” Damon confessed woefully, “I kissed her before she kissed me.”

An explanation: I had a particularly stressful day, so I was too frazzled to think when I sat down to write. Instead, I jotted down the lamest thing I could think up.

When I shared it with my husband, his response was along the lines of, “Hold my beer.” He wrote #2.

About Writing

Unique Approaches to Characterization in Fiction

Autumn

‘Round about a decade ago, I mentioned in some writing community that I liked to go window shopping and find clothes that would fit my fictional characters’ sense of style. I was promptly informed that I was crazy and weird.

Well, duh.

Why else would I be a writer?

Now that I never go anywhere without my ever-growing entourage, I don’t go window shopping anymore. I also don’t have anything to do with writing communities anymore, because the sheer level of “not getting it” is beyond astonishing. For people who claim to be all about writing fiction, they’re a little too concerned about appearances in the real world. Seriously, who cares if you’re weird?

But anyway

I love characterization. It’s probably the facet of writing that I’m the most enamored with, and I’m as passionate about my villains as I am about my heroes. I adore those meditative moments when I seek out their voices and listen to their stories.

And I guess that, given my apparent insanity, I have a different approach to characterization than other writers.

For some reason this is an unpopular thing to say, but the truth of the world is that the way you dress reflects your personality. That’s why some people are all about leggings and messy buns, while others like vintage fit-n-flare dresses. You know. Because they have different personalities.

So, my once-upon-a-time window shopping was part of my characterization process. Getting a clear picture of how they dressed also gave me a clear picture of who they were. I still like to browse online for what so-and-so would wear, and I put the clothes into my stories.

My approach also relies heavily on the preconceptions that the readers are bringing into the story, and gives a lot of room for individual interpretation (which I happen to enjoy, because it personalizes the experience). Instead of describing Miranda as “professional”, I put her in a pantsuit and it’s up to you to view her as “empowered” or “narcissistic.”

Me? I don’t think of her as either. But that’s a ‘nother post.

There you have it: clothing matters in fiction.

About Writing, Alice and the Warden

Miranda Grainey

Autumn

Aged 34. Blonde hair, usually in simple updos, blue eyes, oval-rimmed glasses. Lawyer.

Miranda is a foil to Alice.

She and Hackett were together for about ten or so years, then broke up three years before the start of the story. As described, “It was a comfortably low-maintenance relationship, and Miranda never cared how many hours I worked, because she was putting in just as many herself. In retrospect, I don’t think that either of us put an ounce of our hearts into it, and we were only together to ease the strain of our careers.”

However, Miranda was the primary motivation behind Hackett’s career advancement, because she cared about prestige and image. They worked well together as long as he kept moving upwards, but Hackett’s satisfaction with his position as warden put a strain on their relationship. Eventually, his desire to switch gears and begin a family is what brought their relationship to an end.

Miranda’s main weakness is that her self-image is externally defined. She needs the fancy job, car, money, etc, to feel like she has worth, and any threat to those things is a threat to her as a person. She rejects the idea of motherhood completely, because in her mind it would rob her of who she is.

She views Hackett’s marriage to Alice as a huge personal insult. They were together for ten years without ever once mentioning marriage, then out of nowhere he up and elopes with someone 17 years younger than him. Worse yet, Alice is a high school drop out, with none of the education or ambition that Miranda deems valuable. She writes off Hackett’s marriage as a lapse in judgment brought on by a midlife crisis, and hopes that they’ll eventually divorce.

She also listens to too much modern music.

Observations

10/17

Autumn

There’s a steady breeze from the south, cool enough to prickle the skin on my arms where I’m sitting in the shade. The grass is dry and rough, unpleasant on the areas of my legs that aren’t protected by my skirt.

In the distance I can hear the undulating hum of a lawnmower and the whir of a leaf blower. A woman is sitting on her porch and talking on the phone, the sound of her voice clear but her words indistinct.

There’s a small line of dead trees behind an old fence, the wood gray from weather and age. The playground is made of metal, painted brown and yellow.

Smells of dead leaves and grass.

The children run around yelling, while the two-year-old begins a tantrum on the grass.

About Writing, Alice and the Warden

Damon Rake

Autumn

Obligatory link to Alice and the Warden

The night that I named all of the characters, I browsed through a database of surnames, came across Rake, and thought that it felt right for Damon’s character. The next day when I showed everything to my husband, he laughed his butt off and pointed out that one of the definitions of a ‘rake’ is: “a man who behaves in an immoral way, for example by having sexual relationships with a lot of women.”

Oh. Right. That’s probably why I thought it fit. Kept it anyway.

So yes, I know, but it wasn’t intentional.

Damon is thirty years old, straight auburn hair about cheek length, and brown eyes. He’s attractive, and deliberately goes for the ‘hot bad boy’ image, but his lifestyle is catching up with him and his looks are wearing out.

Damon’s background is fairly stereotypical: he grew up with a deadbeat mom and her steady string of boyfriends, many of whom were abusive jerks. Got into the party scene young and never made it to high school. Likes the freedom of a motorcycle, never thinks about the future, and has an almost narcissistic preoccupation with image. His moral structure is hedonistic and self-serving, and he’s full of a lot of anger and hatred that results in antisocial behavior.

Damon is smart. He’s good at reading people, and has an intuitive understanding of how to exploit and manipulate their weaknesses. He doesn’t make very many mistakes.

While he saw Alice primarily as an asset to manage and utilize, he was genuinely fond of her. In his mind, he rescued her from neglect, took her under his wing to provide for her, and gave her a purpose. Because of this, he kept her around for much longer than he ordinarily would have, until he thought that she was becoming too much of a liability for him to keep control of. He was aware that he was slowly destroying her, but was too nihilistic to stop.

He views Alice’s transformation as a betrayal of him and everything he taught her, but is secretly glad that she found somewhere stable and safe to land.

In about twenty years or so, he’ll have reformed enough to maintain contact with his daughter, Alicia. But that will be a long journey for him.