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Archive for November, 2010

NaNoWriMo update

I am currently writing chapter 7, in which the kitties are born. Earlier this week I decided to let my literary freak flag fly (as high as it ever does when it comes to this sort of thing) and threw my MC into – a fender-bender. Oh, and she got a date out of it, too.

I know, I know, that’s not exactly world-changing. It’s not like I had her hop a plane for Bali without packing anything, or got her abducted by aliens, or gave her some mysterious disease. But it’s still outside of the box.


And it was not in my plot plan, which was the point of doing it. I had her walking to her car from the ferry, and suddenly there were these skater dudes, and she thought they looked really skeezy, and she was worried about them being dangerous, and then one of them smiled at her all friendly-like, and then later as she was driving off she stopped at a red light. And the not-so-skeezy-after-all kid rear-ended her. And eventually asked her out. So there.

*sigh* I’m still way behind on word count, and I despair of actually getting to 50,000 and winning. But I’m not giving up!

I will not be discouraged by the people who already have 30,000 or 40,000 or (this one person is just about killing me) 102,000+ words written already.

I will keep writing. In fact, I’m going to go do some of that right now. So if you’ll pardon me, I shall say good day to you (or good whenever you read this post) and resume the story of How Adorable Little Day-Old Baby Kittens Are.

I am a WriMo!

A strange thing happens every November. The phenomenon started in Oakland in 1999, and it’s been spreading (like a fungus) ever since.  No corner of the world is spared; the fingers of this beast have reached to Europe and Africa, to Asia and Australia.


National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short, is a 30-day period of insanity wherein a large number of people around the world succumb to the insanity of writing a 50,000-word novel in 30 days.

This year, there are 127,000 of us in fact. Yes, us. The insanity has taken hold of me (along with all the other forms of insanity that are already in residence) and I am utterly lost.

The decision to write a novel was a little surreal; I’m still not sure why I’m doing it.  Other than Rosi is and I feel compelled to follow suit.  Or perhaps it’s the feeling of doing it “just for the fish” – you know, just for the halibut.  <Ed. Note: You have permission to groan at the lousy pun.>

Whatever the reason, I have 6,050 words written in three days, which puts me ahead of schedule.  When I sat down yesterday to write Chapter Two, I was already tired of my story.  After writing Chapter Three this evening (and accidentally skipping two plot points) I am noticing a distinct problem.  I’m going to run out of plot long before I get up to 50,000 words.  Hell, I may be out of plot by the weekend at this rate!

So I am entertaining the (somewhat disturbing) notion of adding plot twists that will wreak merry havoc on the sensible progression I had planned.

This is (to my OCD/control freak mind) quite a concern.  What if it turns out crappy?  What if I hate it?  What if it’s totally and utterly unrealistic?  What if it DOESN’T MAKE SENSE?!?

All of which is not the point, of course.  The point of NaNoWriMo is to generate word count.  It’s to write without judgment, without editing, without imposing silly barriers like brevity or logic.  (I cringe.)

I am afraid that the very basic idea of NaNoWriMo is entirely antithetical to my way of doing things.  It’s casual, it’s incoherent, it’s even been likened to charging towards an oncoming tornado, discarding one’s clothes, to become one with the twister and merge with it for the dizzying ride.  Um, excuse me?  I’m supposed to let go of my desire to control all things possible?

Perhaps that’s the best argument for a gal like me to participate, though.  Perhaps when I get into week two and my protagonist has her successful record release, and her mutated kittens with the opposable thumbs escape (no, really), I should throw caution to the wind and jump naked onto (into?) the twister, letting the Random Plot Generator decide my next move.

Proverbially speaking, of course.