How many words?

Hi
I was aiming to crack the big 15,000. Not quite there;

BUT a very healthy 14,495 words.

Hooly Dooly. I am happy with that.

TRUTH: I had a  bit of a battle tonight.

Really I should have just sat down and started to write afresh. But alas I decided to transcribe some of my handwritten notes that were quickly filigreed in the coffee shop this morning.

Nothing wrong with them but I have discovered that once I am transcribing Little Miss Editor wants to place her sticky-beak-pen in and then, well the flow stops, the back and forth, delete, check, re-read little devil with red pointy ears begins to shriek and point out where improvements could be made or attempted.

So a great discovery ... 

only transcribe when I have completely no other mojo or 

just as a hand warm up rather than an actual creative purge.

I sent Little Miss Editor  packing anyway. I told her that while I appreciated her ability she could  'Pee off'  back to her office out the back and wait until I called her. She was happy to do that.

But by then creative zap had withered a little, Friday night fatigue got comfy and the words a bit clunky. Still I got some frames put together. they can be revisited and decorated and hung with tasty detail a little later. (AFTER NOVEMBER ;-) )

I can't believe I've got this far. AMAZING. And because I've got this far
 I am MOTIVATED to keep on going. And tomorrow being
Saturday who knows what might HAPPEN (after the housework of course).

And I can confidently say that 'Housework' is not a procrastinator disguised in an old t-shirt, carrying a vacuum cleaner for protection. It gives me time to go inside my head and let flutters of poetic possibility coagulate or coalesce into whimsy and aha's and what-ifs.

So below, another unedited, free-flow paragraph/taster. But only if you're up for it.

TODAY'S TINY EXCERPT

When he saw her he felt that old tension creep back into his belly. That caged fucking animal that could not get out; that had to drop its tail and slink away from the bright of day. Women made him nervous. They just had to look you in the eye when they spoke. Had to ask so many fuckin’ stupid questions. And stare waiting for an answer or filling in the space if he wasn’t quick enough.

He felt that scarlet train seep up the wall of ribs and roar toward his chest; packed up his tools and walked back to the shed.

G'night
Lv D

Carving through the wall

OK

Update time! Another 1700 words tonight. Yey :-)

Riding on the fast horse, got my 'come-on-girl-get-on-with-it' whip out tonight.
Intention was good. I even had an idea about the chapter I was going to work through. That went out of the window.

First sentence clumsy but I decided to carry on. Just kept tapping the qwerty. My fingers were beginning to warm up. And so was my excitement.

I could feel the awkwardness; like I wasn't letting it flow in the right direction.
I had to trust that I could let go of the reins and at some point the story would take over ..it did.

Its a good thing - Trust.

The outcome only a fragment of what I'd planned in terms of covering a section of story...BUT it really spaced out a gap for me. One that I knew was there but had no idea how (or when) I was going to build a bridge of words and/or worlds to span it.

I'm happy with the outcome. I'm surprised at the turn of events. One of  my main character's (MC) is beginning to freak me out. She is cooking on the inside.

So another sharing. Unedited word- flow free-fall style...it' will all get polished later. Read with care....

TODAYS LITTLE EXCERPT

Unknowingly and even innocently Shaz’s unidentifiable beast had stormed its fiery tongue into a leading National newspaper. She didn’t have to beg for editorial space, or send media releases into an un-answering abyss. She’d carved through an ‘ol’ boys school’ wall with-out even noticing the brickwork. Her naivety was both her sword and her shield. And her growing following, both for and against, became her job security. 

More to follow.

Love D

Still running...whoops, writing

Howdy

Well, well, well

I've hit my first milestone and then kept on running.

I truly can''t believe it.

Its no secret I lack a writers commitment, which is compounded by a lack of objective writing goals.
(And I am seriously not a runner!)

BUT this NaNoWriMo totally crazy, mad, nutso goal of 50, 0000 words, no matter what, seems to be thawing the procrastinator ice cap.

Seriously!

Now that I've found out how to scramble my work and then upload my words for validation and watched the little graph go UP  UP UP I am...

...totally excited.

I've broken the 5,000 word (1st Milestone)' totally whipped it's skinny little arse :-)

 AND AND AND

 I've skidded past the 10,000 word (2nd milestone) still with tonnes of creative wind in my sails..

We're 5 days in - I'm keen to keep up the pace, turn up to the keyboard, let it roll.

And below a little sneak preview of a few words just for you...but only if you're remotely interested and as committed to reading without judging or editing or critiquing, which is exactly how I'm writing at the moment. (words first...works later).  :-)

TODAYS EXCERPT

He was there she could hear him fumbling with the old brass lock at the back door. And finally when the lock released she heard him falling in to the kitchen, the door banging on the small pantry at its back, the screech of metal  chair legs across the boards, a falling pot, a shout. Silence. Even the walls ceased to groan.

 Gwen pulled her blanket close, eyes wide, knees curled up tight; and reached to hold a spindly  bar on the cot beside her bed. The twins slept; sweet angel breath and curls of stale breast milk formed a halo in the darkness. 

More later. Bye for Now.

D

Ready Set Go!

Hi
I may have mentioned I've signed up for the NaNoWriMo challenge. Well I'm on my way. I did get off to a slow start mostly down to procrastination and a very busy week :-)

I'm still not sure that I'll reach the golden 50,000 words
but it's great to have something driving me forth.

I have a storyline (kind of). Though it's really just to get me started...who knows what plots and changes could happen once the penstress takes over. I'm not even a story teller or story writer. So it's a month of 'first times' for me

Its also a great way to link in with other writers all over the world
 from across genres, diverse ages and experience.

For me its a major challenge. Its the first time I've actually set myself a writing 'project' and a 'goal'.
Usually I just write for the pure hell or joy of it. I have absolutely no sense or idea of what genre, style, audience I write for. 'I write for me' is usually the best (but meek) answer I seem to be able to come up with.
I also don't write with the intention for sharing, competing or publishing.

However lately I'm feeling more like just getting out there. Not to achieve anything (I've certainly let go of that old dress) but more just to share.

So here I am just happily pumping away at the words; trying to set myself a reasonable daily target yet not bothered if I don't get there. Its a writers bliss :-)

I am largely free-falling so the story can unfold its own magic...here's a little sample from  the middle of a chapter that popped out of nowhere, in to the Western Australian Desert and then onto my lap-top this morning...

**********

She loved the open space, the giant curve of big blue sky, the seemingly endless horizon.

No limits to her flight and no end to her imagination. Her mind ran wild with possibilities of freedom, driving into an eternal sunset, chasing the magenta chalks that curved the western sky and arched into rippling purple skirts to the east at the end of each day.

But this morning driving out with these women she felt an urgent desire to run away and  hide.

"You alright sister?" Daisy asked smiling from cheek to cheek curving a row of missing teeth and surly grey whiskers on her top lip. 

“This is good one this one. This one make you a sister now. For sure.”

She tapped the cracked black steering wheel as the Troopie bounced and bucked over the hard corrugated track and deadly potholes.   

****************

More coming...stay tuned :-)

D

Sitting on top of the world

...can't believe how nervous and excited I am...

Recently I've been chomping my way through Writing Without a Parachute: the Art of Freefall by Barbara Turner-Vesselago. To keep up with the book I have to write everyday. Its been brilliant. Revealed my Writers Dragons and dredged up some long forgotten stories that have become little 'shorts' in their own right. I'll re-visit them some time in the future.

However, in the mean time, and the more exciting news is
 that it has has propelled me (like a rocket) to actually having a go at writing
 a 50,000 word (minimum) piece of work.

 (Unheard of for me. A total far-off fantasy. Feel like I'm sitting on top of the world.)

Yes I'm actually going to write a novel. I have signed up with NaNoWriMo with 80,000 (plus) others from around the world and committed myself to a month of 'just doing it'. I can't fail, the only goal I have is to have a go for myself. (The goal is to complete in ONE month: November.)

It's not for anyone or anything else other than me.
It doesn't have to be perfect, it doesn't have to have an audience or an outcome.
It doesn't have to be graded, peer reviewed, riveting, publishable, or best-seller material.
It simply has to hit 50,000 words or more in one month.

Just signing up with a blank canvas has propelled me forward. So far I've got:

• a rough story, 
• a bit of a skeleton/story-board, 
• several linked plots, 
• four key characters
• and  a focus and reason to write.

The real writing begins 1/11/13. But in the meantime I have developed the characters.

Already way ahead!  

I have never in my life sat down and actually run through a character development process.
Filling in details about each of the players including physical details, aspirations, perceptions, favourite foods, bad habits,  inner and outer personality traits, dreams, fears, hobbies, secrets etc, has already sunk me into another layer of the story.

I've surprised myself with the depth and twist of each of their characters. 

And especially the light and dark of the human condition that accompanies all of us. 

Just by doing this process I've stumbled across an intriguing parallel between two of the personalities that I wasn't even aware of. I am so looking forward to letting the story pour its own juice. The idea has landed. The scene has been set. I have no idea about the content. I'm simply going to sit down and write every night and let it flow.

All controls will be turned off. Inner critic, pedantic editor, merciless judge will just have to take a back seat and give the creative magic of a free-falling penstress lots of space to dance and sing and write.

Write through the block, write through the terror, write 'fear-ward'.

And here, just for you, a sneak preview at the very, very, very brief synopsis:

Three young women, a weekend summer music festival, and a tale that weaves and weeps both tatters and tapestry of  unexpected experience and consequence over the next decade of their lives. 

 Intimacy comes at a cost. Shame, guilt, fear and the need for forgiveness or revenge stalk the shadows, underpin life choices and demand attention.

I'll keep you posted

Lv D

Stoking the Fire

Ok; stoking the tale telling fire lately.
Got my motor running.
Daily practise installed.
Several approaches being tested and enjoyed.

Totally loving Freefall Without a Parachute. Working through the chapters and going 'fear ward' where the energy is..certainly stirring up some old tales. I'm really noticing my style of diving in. Not with the grace of an Olympian diver more with the circling tactic of an uncertain vulture...but when the moment is ripe diving in to the emotion of a moment or series of moments.

Following the wonderful guidance and stimulating prompts of this book is an interesting and inspiring journey. I am doing several 10 to 20 minute 'free falls' and an hour a day more intense writing block.

And a sucker for a challenge I've also signed up for the NaNoWriMo.
That is NAtional NOvel WRiting MOnth.
No sweat: 50,000 words in a month. More if you can.
So about 1600 words a day, every day. Good for a first draft of something.
What? I don't know. No idea. Just going to see what emerges. Ha ha.

So I am writing. Not blogging though.
I'll get back and share a few things later. It's nice to be pouring some words and nouns and verbs out of the grey matter though. Watching the ink treacle itself across the papyrus or decorate the LCD is my favourite play time.

Weather's starting to come good to...spring, then summer. Yey beach, sea, sun, fun! Bring it on.

Lv D

My sons birthday

Seems like the right thing to do -yeah- write something on my sons birthday.
My oldest son is now 20. Jeez where did that time go? Flick.

I stayed up late last night so I could be the first to offer him birthday wishes on Facebook. I know I'm sweet right! Ok and a bit mad. And a bit totally love my son.

He doesn't live with us as he's moved up to study at uni, share a crowded flat, play guitar and flip burgers in his spare time. So I didn't get to hang out with him, watch him blow out candles, unwrap gifts and other general birthday capers. But I couldn't stop thinking about him all day. I'd already Face-Booked him and rung him up first thing in the morning. I couldn't just keep contacting him all day. So I just sent him silent love puffs through the ether. (Yes, I've already confessed to being a tad mad.)

However my younger son, nearly 17, did have to sit and listen to my husband and I do the count down that went some thing like this...

 " ...at this time 20 my years ago  I was walking around the ward, stopping to rock every so often" 

Followed by hourly recounts of his older brothers birthing story. ( Not a pretty one either, far from natural and wonderful. More very long, hard work and then a very rushed emergency caesarian.) The worse thing is we didn't stop there. Oh no, no, no, no, no...

...we then continued to reminisce about the younger sons birth story. 

Also not pretty. Damned difficult - complete with two obstetricians at the end of the bed with white coats, goggles, suction cup and forceps, each of them balanced on one white gumboot while their other gum-booted foot leveraged against the end of the birthing bed. I told you not pretty. And I doubt that my 16 (nearly 17) year old really wanted the details.

Anyway it dawned on me that this is how you celebrate birthdays when your young have flown the nest. An hour by hour vigil and countdown to the moment. The very special moment, that no matter what the circumstance, will always and forever remain very special moments.

Life-giving, Life-time moments...

And I wonder when the grandchildren come along (if and when they do - no pressure - and at this point certainly no hurry), will I be sharing the birth story of my sons to my sons as their sons (or daughters) burst in to the world.

Life goes on...