Normally at this point in NaNoWriMo my novel is just a big long string of one line zingers. Unfortunately this is not the case this year. I believe this is the best line so far…
Veronica did the rest of her shopping in a euphoric haze. It was thus that she came home from the market with the following foodstuffs: 15 radishes, 2 russet potatoes, one pork chop and a bundle of leeks.
I left it at that so that if I find myself struggling for words at a later date I can pop back and add various bizarre and sundry items to her shopping basket.
I managed to get through today’s word count in one mad dash. 1,884 words in a little less than an hour… maybe I could have kept on writing, but maybe it’s good that I know where I’ll be going in the morning. Phillip and Veronica are going on a date in the town of Grognard, but on the way Veronica revealed that she thinks she saw a ghost in her bedroom at Marks Cross. Phillip poo-pooed the idea as a trick of the candle light, since Old Mr. Marks refuses to keep up the electricity in the old house, he could be right, but since this is a Gothic novel he’s probably wrong, and since he’s the first love interest she has encountered, he is also probably evil. Yay!
7,518 / 50,000
Eleven days ago my Dad was taken to the ER and ended up in ICU in very critical condition. This put a stop to most of my Halloween countdown pursuits. The first night the chance of survival they gave him was minuscule. They had my mom and aunt say goodbye to him. He’s doing much better now, though he’ll be sick for a very long time, I can’t even imagine when they’ll release him from the hospital, but I do hope that they’ll take him out of the ICU soon. His organs have taken a lot of damage and he’s having dialysis treatments periodically, and hopefully, temporarily. If you’re curious, you can read more about his progress on my flickr by clicking the photo above.
I decided I would still participate in NaNoWriMo this month, and it’s my goal to blog about my progress regularly.
It’s been harder than ever this year. I feel like it’s week 2 already. My gut is full of apprehension. Yesterday after I finished writing, the electricity went out and I lost about 300 words. Luckily I was about 900 words ahread of schedule, so I didn’t have to fix it straight away. The bad thing about that is that, if I had been able to fix it straight away, I might have remembered exactly what had happened in those 300 words. I’m writing on auto-pilot. Half the time I skim over what I have written the next morning and I’m pleasantly surprised by the coherent plot that is mysteriously forming with no actual effort on my part. Still, sitting down to write, or thinking about it at any other time of the day, is physically uncomfortable for me.
5,628 / 50,000
I will admit I’m shirking housework to tell you that I’ll be participating in National Novel Writing Month this year for the 7th time. I’m so excited, by golly!
& I’ve even won twice! *shamefaced*
I wrote a long entry about my feelings about sharing with the internet. It was going to be my first entry in this blog. I hemmed, hawed, and then deleted the full body of the post, feeling that “I hem and I haw” pretty much covered everything I had wanted to say.
I’m trying to keep busy. In an odd twist in regards to things I feel are too personal to share with the interwebs (almost everything), I’m completely comfortable sharing the fact that I’m getting my annual speculum poking tomorrow. I have terrible anxiety about doctors but I have come to terms with the fact that they will always think I have high blood pressure when in fact I only have high blood pressure in their presence.
My busyness today, in attempts to ignore the trials I must endure as a female on the morrow, has included a walk to the library, uphill, both ways, for serious. It’s a small town library and almost everything in the non-fiction section is aimed at children. Sifting through the large DK picture books on the Titanic and Ancient Egypt I found a four part set called A History of Everyday Things in England by Marjorie Quennell, C. H. B. Quennell written in 1918. They’re pretty delicious looking, actually. I got the first two for now. I kind of doubt that they’re very gripping, but they’re interestingly illustrated and they smell awesome. I have a book smell thing, but then, don’t we all?
When we got back home I did the dishes. It was kind of a big deal.
I went out in the garden to take photos for flickr projects and picked cherry tomatoes and chili peppers. I ate the cherry tomatoes immediately without fanfare. They’re the first yield from my plant and I was excited, okay?
I’m playing… well, honestly, I’m playing about 10 video games right now (if you’re curious I can write out a list) but today I’m playing Final Fantasy III on the DS. It satisfies my summertime video game laziness perfectly.
I need to write an outline for the novel I’m actually writing (and have been for about three years), as opposed to the ones that I have written for NaNoWriMo. I’m sure it would be beneficial to the entire writing process if I actually established a plot. I guess it’s a satirical cautionary tale for young layabouts. That’s a start.