Tag: status

NaNoWriMo – Preptober

Nanowrimo 2018
#NaNoWriMo #Preptober

Most writers are aware that National Novel Writing Month is just around the corner. I’ve known about it for years having officially “won” the challenge four out of the six times I participated. Of course none of these novels were publishable – I must unabashedly admit I did plan each one as a leap towards that great American novel. I’ll also admit three out of the four completed projects still exist on my hard drive. They will stay there until I finish the memoir.

What memoir? The one I said I was writing? The one I mentioned earlier this month as having completed the first draft? Yes, that memoir. So why would I consider writing novel number five when my memoir sits there waiting for revising, editing, submitting, and publishing? Am I simply procrastinating… again? Nope. I’ve come up with a viable reason to set it aside. I heard that it’s a good idea to let your first draft sit on the back burner for a while. Let it simmer there for a few months (maybe years). Then go back to it with fresh eyes. I’ll do that. Someday. It might look better with blurred vision so the longer I wait the better it will be.

It’s been a while since I last participated in “NaNoWriMo and some things seem to have changed. I remember way back in 2002 when I first discovered this challenge that the goal was to complete a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. I may be wrong but I think the rules back then declared we begin the novel on November 1st, we write 1,667 words per day, we skip Thanksgiving dinner, and we turn in our final word count on November 30th. I followed each rule, as I interpreted it, to a “T” – no planning ahead, no outlining, no character profiling, no plotting – just writing exactly 1,667 words each day including Thanksgiving. (Maybe that’s why attempt #1 was deleted from my hard drive).

Nowadays we have #Pretober. I think that means we begin to plot, plan, and develop our characters starting on October 1st. I’ve already cheated. It’s still September and I spent the entire morning on my iPad in GoodNotes, mapping out the novel. Study the picture. Every little piece of clipart (thank you kisspng.com) could be plucked out of my memoir. “Write what you know,” they say. Obviously I know a lot so this one’s sure to be the best seller. Careful what your next move is – you too could be a piece of clipart.

 

Final First Draft

Twice this week Big Brother has emailed comics to me.  Speed Bump and Pickles. Go ahead and click on them. They are safe. You might even laugh. I can take a hint. I get it. “When’s the &#*$ memoir going to be done?”

So, what did I do? It’s obvious my blog posts have been a bare minimum. Do you get it now? I’ve been writing. It was a beautiful day out there today in my neighborhood but I didn’t step foot out the door. I got up, salutated the sun, drank my coffee, and glued my butt to the chair.

Morning affirmations: “I’m so close. I can finish this. Today.”

And I did.

Someone said “print it out.” I did that too, almost passing out from the fumes of 309 hot pages spitting out of my new laser printer. I punched holes, three sheets at a time, with my inexpensive paper punch. Found an old binder left over from tax course days.

So there. Here it is. Ready for the red pen.

Can I go for a walk now, Big Brother?

Letter to Myself

Journals
Journals

Dear Margie,

You have made a lot of progress in the last few years. Remember that stack of journals when things first started to happen? But it goes back farther than that. What about that 5 year journal with scattered entries, the one with the tiny lock you kept in your nightstand during your early teens? Last time you looked at it you wondered what all the abbreviations meant. M.A.M. for one. It might have meant “mad at mom,” or perhaps “mad at Marilyn.” You did remember the first M stood for mad. Most of the entries were short sentences, “I finished my book report,” “We had a pajama party at Vickie’s,” “I babysat for the neighbors last night.” More a calendar of life with little emotion.

There was a break from journaling for a few years, the need to write fixed in letters to Carol. You have the ones she sent to you. Does she still have yours? Probably not but you have a dozen years of response to your letters to her, each one dropping a small clue as to what was going on. They begin with happy memories but evolve into “come and visit me so we can talk about it” messages.

The journal writing began again in the mid-seventies, after the boys were born. Reflections of being a mother, trying to make things work, a few essays mixed in from that advanced English class at DVC. Another break and then the Tarot phase journal, followed by an AA step journal. You scanned them all a couple of years ago and threw away the actual papers not wanting anyone to find them. At least you had the sense to keep them in digital format. Safely tucked away in case you ever wanted to write a memoir.

The time has arrived. It’s been a tedious process to put those missives in chronological order and make some sense of it. Reading through the work brings mostly tears but a few healthy bouts of laughter. How minor the problems were in the beginning. Remember how many times you packed your bags thinking you would head back to Michigan and life would be easier? Learning about Jason’s addiction? Dealing with your own drinking, trying to decide – am I an alcoholic? “Fake it until you make it,” they said in AA. They meant for you to fake your sobriety but you turned it around, deciding if you faked your drinking experience, the program would work, a twisted attempt at denial of the real problem.

But when you sat down to write the book, it seemed to be all about Jason. Then the focus shifted to Chris. And then there was Eric. And now JJ. You told their secrets. That’s okay, it was a shitty first draft. You’re supposed to write it all out and no one needs to read it. But this is a memoir. It’s about you. You are the narrator. You told their story and now it’s time to make it yours.

Remember when you said, there is no resolution? And then someone in your tribe suggested resolution may come with the writing. Or, it’s possible that there may be no resolution. How disappointing that felt. You wanted that lightning bolt to zap straight into the manuscript, erase the past and manifest into a miraculous new life, what you thought would be a normal life.

Sifting through those first 90,000 words the patterns began to emerge. When you began this re-write, you were at a turning point of sorts. You began to feel like the hub of a shredded wheel, picking up the pieces in the freeway of life, trying to glue it back together. Were you the common denominator, and therefore the source of everyone’s misery? Did you lay out those spikes of disaster? Or were you drawn to the center of all adversities, never having to look at yourself? You think: It’s not you. It’s them. Why write that?

Dig a little deeper. Keep digging. The answer will come. You are getting closer. So close the theme is right there, within your reach. Just a little more energy, one chapter at a time, you can do it. Listen to the sages in your life. Follow their path. Forget about the results for now. It’s not a marathon that will end at the finish line. Growth continues, published or not. Write for yourself. Give yourself permission to self-publish that first shitty draft – just for yourself. Hold it in your hand knowing how far you have travelled. Accept what was and turn it into something powerful. Put it out there to make a difference for someone who still struggles.

You’ve got this. Push that inner critic aside (that would be me, you know).

Changing My Mind

There are always lessons to be learned so here’s mine for this week. I had a great idea. Maybe I could revive my blog before it disappeared into the dense fog of social media. I could begin a new project. #100daysofsummer might build enthusiasm, I thought. I promised I would make a post each day be it a picture or some words.

What I discovered is this – that would mean subscribers to my wordpress page would get an email from me every day. If I were to get an email every day from every site I subscribed to, I’d never get off my computer. If the emails contained only a link to a random snapshot or nonsensical words, I’d be furious and unsubscribe in a flash.

Please accept my apologies and I’ll fulfill my 100 days of summer on Facebook instead. See you later – when I have something worthwhile to share. Signing off now to complete my productivity journal for the week. It’s looking like it needs some attention.