Today was tough. I woke up early and sat down at the computer. I twiddled my thumbs. I decided to eat breakfast. I wrote about 100 words. I felt that awful heaviness in my stomach. Writer’s block, wedged somewhere in the vicinity of my solar plexus. I scowled. I did the laundry, angrily. I complained to the internet. I watched Monday’s episode of All My Children while I did yet more laundry. I complained to my novel that it just isn’t being as funny and carefree as I would like it to be. I took down some of the Halloween decor. I edited photos. I shot my daily self portrait (above). I edited that. I buckled down and wrote 1, 148 words, jumping ahead of where I wanted my plot to be a little bit. My main character has already lived as the private nurse to an eccentric old man for a month and very, very little has happened. I reminded myself that my novel is plotless, pointless, and boring and it’s still a gazillion times better than my last one. It’s no better than it should be, and also no worse. I have no worries about the quality, I have mastered the quantity, my inner editor is on vacation, but I still hate writing every day. I don’t know why. It just makes me feel angry and frustrated, and I am not an angry person at all. Once I get down to it, I only have to write about an hour a day and I well exceed my daily requirements.
I think… it’s entirely possible… that I am really, really, incredibly lazy.
8861 / 50000 words. 18% done!
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.
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