Jan 12

About blogging.

When I was a kid, I was a ruiner of lunchboxes. I’d leave them full of tupperware containers for a day, then two…then I’d be afraid to open them because of the scary mold. Then I’d think after a week or so, oh CRAP I’d really better clean out my lunchbox…but the mold is probably stinky and funny colors by now, so I can’t possible touch it…

Anyway. Blogging is a little bit like that. *embarrassed cough*

So. I did, in fact, finish my NaNoWriMo novel. While I didn’t like the finished project as much as the one from last year, a.k.a. November Girls, I did meet a character whom I totally love, and there are a few snappy scenes that I can work with. So all in all, I’m glad I NaNo’ed again.

My current projects include continuing to revise November Girls and applying to various higher education thingies, i.e. various MFAs and the Clarion West writer’s workshop. I’m applying with a section from Freedomland; we’ll see what happens!

If you want small juicy morsels of creative writing, check out TypeTrigger. I mentioned it before, and I’ll mention it again. It’s like badass literary twitter. Why follow Snooki on twitter when you could follow me on TypeTrigger? Seriously. It’s in beta right now; the public site release date is January 20th. World: be prepared for amazingness.

Nov 08

NaNo Days 7, 8

Day 7: 3,000 words.
Day 8: 300 words.

Sigh. Days with work AND class are rough. It’ll all even out somewhere.

Nov 07

NaNo Days 5-6, and some Bad Fairies

NaNo Day 5: 500ish words before bedtime. Did the rest of my homework for class, too. Turns out all I want to do on a Friday night is sleep. Does that mean I’m a real adult now?

NaNo Day 6: Woke up to write. Wrote. Cleaned the kitchen. Talked to my roommate about fairies.  The ultra-rad Kat Vellos came and brought me delicious food. Wrote more. Freaked out and went outside for a while. Wrote more. Got distracted by writing revisions for my other piece. Got distracted by watching the entirety of The Guild. Ordered pizza. Wrote a tiny bit more, then gave up and went to bed. Total word count so far: 9,200ish.

So, my conversation with the roommate about fairies was pretty funny. I started talking about changeling stories and all the horrible things that people are supposed to do to a changeling child in order to get their own child back from the fairies: beating, exposure, burning, etc. My roommate commented how gruesome that was.

“I thought fairies were supposed to be nice,” he said. I talked about some choice bits from changeling tales, like how you’re supposed to stick hot pokers down a child’s throat if you suspect them to be a changeling, or else you can hang a pair of open iron scissors above their bed.

“I thought you were just supposed to clap,” he said. “I mean, Peter Pan’s nice, right?”

 ”Peter Pan is the spirit of an unbaptized crib death. That’s what all the Lost Boys really are. Ghosts of dead children.”

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m a little disillusioned about fairies. I was that kid that loved the Flower Fairy books and had a big crush on Legolas–from the book, I’ll have you know, even before Orlando Bloom. Then I started reading lots of actual fairy tales, plus a little Bruno Bettleheim, Neil Gaiman, and Terry Pratchett. I think my current thoughts on fairies can be well summed-up by a passage from Terry Pratchett’s Lords and Ladies:

“Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.
No one ever said elves are nice.
Elves are bad.”

Here’s to writing more bad romance with fairies! Huzzah!

Nov 04

NaNo Day 4

Plugged away and wrote 1,000ish words, now I’m going to bed.

Horrible prose sins I have comitted:
*unnecesary said tags
*locomotion writing
*ill-placed lengthy flashbacks which interrupt the flow of narrative.

BUT! I am aware that I am committing these sins, which is important. Plus, you can get a NaNoWriMo merit badge for padding your word count, so that’s something.

Nov 03

NaNoWriMo Day 3: Limerickish

There once was a girl from Seattle
Who refused to give in to death’s rattle
When it came to her prose,
So she said, “I suppose
that I’ll write a lot of really craptactular scenes using just the sort of terrible clunky prose that I’m carefully editing away from in November Girls, but it’s all okay because I’m up to par on word count.

Nov 02

NaNo Day 2: Haiku

Five hundred-ish words.
A day filled with homework, but
no class tomorrow.

Nov 01

NaNo Day 1

Wrote over my lunch hour*. Stayed up inadvisably late to finish my word count. Today was a class day, so that made it harder.

Total word count: 1,670. I am right on par.

*”You writing a paper?”
“Novel.”
“What, in here?” (vague expression of panic, as if novel-writing were a sacred activity to be carried out in monasteries or on giant oak desks, and having it in the staff lounge is blasphemy.)
“When the hell else do I have time?”
“You can focus?”
“…sorta.”

Oct 31

NaNo Eve

It is time, kids. Time for what, you may ask? That most wonderful time of year, and I don’t mean when the drug stores put out Christmas decorations, because that happened yesterday. I mean NaNoWriMo. It’s time for me to sit down and work in quantity, busting out a 50,000 word novel in a month.

I did it last year and it was fabulous, and gave me the seed of November Girls. This year, my mission is writing the sequel, November’s Child. The events of the story take place seven years after November Girls. I’m going to write it as a standalone novel as much as I can, at least for the initial draft.

Why embark on such madness? Especially when I am actively revising November Girls? I thought about that one a lot. And I decided that I could a) have some revisions done by Dec. 1, or b) have some revisions done AND have a draft for the sequel by Dec. 1. When I think about it that way, there’s really no contest.

Here’s my favorite explanation for why you should do NaNoWriMo (from the website, www.nanowrimo.org):

“If I’m just writing 50,000 words of crap, why bother? Why not just write a real novel later, when I have more time?

“There are three reasons.

“1) If you don’t do it now, you probably never will. Novel writing is mostly a “one day” event. As in “One day, I’d like to write a novel.” Here’s the truth: 99% of us, if left to our own devices, would never make the time to write a novel. It’s just so far outside our normal lives that it constantly slips down to the bottom of our to-do lists. The structure of NaNoWriMo forces you to put away all those self-defeating worries and START. Once you have the first five chapters under your belt, the rest will come easily. Or painfully. But it will come. And you’ll have friends to help you see it through to 50k.

“2) Aiming low is the best way to succeed. With entry-level novel writing, shooting for the moon is the surest way to get nowhere. With high expectations, everything you write will sound cheesy and awkward. Once you start evaluating your story in terms of word count, you take that pressure off yourself. And you’ll start surprising yourself with a great bit of dialogue here and a ingenious plot twist there. Characters will start doing things you never expected, taking the story places you’d never imagined. There will be much execrable prose, yes. But amidst the crap, there will be beauty. A lot of it.

“3) Art for art’s sake does wonderful things to you. It makes you laugh. It makes you cry. It makes you want to take naps and go places wearing funny pants. Doing something just for the hell of it is a wonderful antidote to all the chores and “must-dos” of daily life. Writing a novel in a month is both exhilarating and stupid, and we would all do well to invite a little more spontaneous stupidity into our lives.”

My silly, secondary goal is to post daily to this blog, which may be anything from an excerpt to a word count update to me writing “I am not sleeping and I want to beat myself over the head with my laptop until I pass out.”

Wish me luck! Tomorrow, it begins!

Oct 30

The Final Frontier

Here’s a repost from a TypeTrigger I wrote recently:

“final frontier”

We used to play Star Trek when I was a kid: The Next Generation, because in the mid-80s Picard had outclassed Kirk.

The first thing you need to know about Star Trek is that there are no good girl parts. I’d always jockey to be Crusher, because if somebody else’s little sister wanted to play, too, then someone would be stuck playing Troi and she didn’t get to do ANYTHING except sometimes talk about feelings. Boring! At least if you were Crusher you’d get to save the day if someone got hurt.

Our friend Lee was always Picard. He had that 8-year-old personality that gave no other option. My big brother was Data, more or less always. That was good ’cause Data was always my favorite. This tells you a lot about my family.

I was six and playing Star Trek introduced me to the concept of death. Somebody on a mission was hurt. It wasn’t one of the main players. We’d decided that he passed out. “He should die!” I suggested, eager for attention. “But then he couldn’t come back,” my brother pointed out. “Not ever?” “Not ever.” Before that, I’d thought death was like a really bad version of passing out. At that moment, on a pea-gravel playground, I realized that death was indeed the final frontier.

Oct 26

Better know a crazy person of the day

In the late 1700s, a poet named Christopher Smart was put in the looney bin. Why? Because his religious zeal had increased to the point where he was not only praying, frequently and loudly, in the street, but he was forcing random other people to pray with him. They decided to give him a nice room aaaaall by himself with pen, paper, and apparently his cat, Jeoffrey.

And he wrote poetry. He wrote one line a day, so the story goes, of this enormously long poem. Sections of the poem have been preserved and are AMAZING. I’m sure it was considered completely crazy in the day, but I think it’s, well, hilarious for one, but also pretty brilliant. David Wagoner calls this “the first draft of HOWL”.

Here are the first few lines:

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his fore-paws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the fore-paws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For Sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For Seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For Eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For Ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For Tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having consider’d God and himself he will consider his neighbour.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.

…and it goes for some time in that vein, finally ending with:

For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, though he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadrupede.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the musick.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.

“He can tread to all the measures upon the musick?” I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! This poem was destined for internet fame:

…I could go on. But instead, I think you should go read Smart’s poem.

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