The Nutty Novelist

NaNo 2010: The Failing Resolution

2010-11-01T22:49:00.001-04:00

NaNoWriMo season has snuck up on me this year, through every fault of my own. I decided not to do it, not because I don't enjoy it, but because I need to devote what little spare creative time I have this month to not completely deserting my poor webcomic, whose update schedule is already suffering due to school. This is my last semester - I'm graduating in December - and is therefore my last chance to end the college scene with as high a GPA as possible.

But I'm struggling. Not doing NaNo, that is. I keep wandering back to the forums and surfing around, feeling lost and left out, wondering if I really need to sleep at all this month, or if that was a silly goal from the beginning. I don't have a particular story that I want to work on, but I've got a larger-than-usual litter of plot bunnies invading my skull. I give the credit for this, in equal parts, to my webcomic (for keeping my muse amused) and my Spanish Lit class (for forcing me to focus on the concept of stories on a regular basis). I'm sure I could chase any one of those bunnies for quite a few thousand words before it would tire.

I definitely won't be making anything like 50,000 words this month. That would be madness on a scale I'm unwilling to devote myself to. But...I can't promise I won't write anything at all. NaNo is far too inspiring to ignore completely.

Final Stats for 2009

2009-11-30T23:56:00.001-05:00

Some final stats...
Word count in MS Word: 51,140
Word count in NaNo validator: 51,175
Cups of tea: 29
Cups of coffee: 10
Characters killed: 1
Chapters: 27
Days not written: 5
Days written over 5K: 2
Farthest behind I've been: 8,205 (35,128/43,333)
Farthest ahead I've been: 1,550 (24,883/23,333)

(Keep in mind these aren't final novel stats, just final NaNo stats. The story is far from finished.)

And CUT!

2009-11-30T23:12:00.000-05:00

Done! Yay! Finally! With an hour to go until the deadline. Whew. My NaNo stats graph looks pretty damn entertaining this year.

I'm a weener, as Grandpa would say!

The #5Kday Challenge

2009-11-28T13:54:00.000-05:00

I'm so far behind I've had to take up Chris Baty's Twitter challenge: #5Kday (5,000 words a day). I only managed 3,000 yesterday, but I hardly spent any time at all writing, so I actually didn't do badly at all. Guess I'm aiming for 7k today to make up for it...hoo boy. And tons and tons of homework and grading to do.

Current word count: 39,116. Today's goal: hit 45k! Then hit 50k tomorrow, and not worry about NaNo on Monday. Wish me luck...I'm going to need it. You can follow me on Twitter @kb1qwb.

No excerpt today. I'm rushing so hard the writing quality is going out the window, and I'd be ashamed to show off most of it.

The Death of Free Speech

2009-11-24T00:01:00.001-05:00

Final word count for Monday: 33,107.

Excerpt of the day:

“Fighting doesn’t have to mean using violence,” Gainor said. “I’ve fought plenty of battles and never once have I hit or shot someone.” He walked back to the cabinet and sorted through the drawer until he realized that he had no idea what he was looking for and couldn’t think of a reason to be looking for anything. “Hell, I’ve never shot a gun at all.”

“This is a different battle you’re fighting now,” Bill said. “This is the battle that happens as a last resort, now that all the lobbying and protesting you’re used to has failed. We’re past the point of peaceful dissent. Staging a protest and speaking your mind will get you locked up these days.”

“Locked up?” Gainor asked. “I remember what Jamie said about the constitutional rights, but I can’t imagine the police are really going to blindly enforce everything the government feels like handing down.”

“What police?”

“Huh?” Now thoroughly confused, Gainor asked, “What do you mean, ‘What police?’ The people in blue uniforms that make arrests and hand out speeding tickets. I don’t know of any other police.”

Bill crossed his arms and stared Gainor down. “Good luck finding your police these days,” he said.

“Finding them?” Gainor demanded, growing impatient. “All I have to do is go to the police station, or call 911, or drive ninety miles an hour down the interstate. I’ll find them. Though usually I try to avoid them.”

Bill shook his head. “Go to the police station tonight,” he said.

“Why?”

“Just go. Find your police, and I’ll show you the death of free speech in America.”

Family Secrets

2009-11-23T23:29:00.001-05:00

I got so far behind last weekend thanks to my Internet Programming midterm, which involved hours and hours of beating Drupal upside the head, and then doing the same to one of GoDaddy's servers. After much puzzlement and frustration, the site is finally live at The Everyday Epicure.

So after my big surge ahead on Saturday, I wrote nothing from Sunday to Saturday. Eek! I got as much as 10k behind, then spent a few hours on Sunday (yesterday) catching up. I got down 6k, so as of today I'm only 5k behind, with six more days to go. Unfortunately, this Thanksgiving "break" is going to be filled with homework, so I won't be able to relax and hang around and novel constantly. I'm still determined, though.

Current word count: 32,399.

All recent research has consisted of asking Craig questions about servers, so no pages to show.

Random excerpt:

Gainor focused his attention on his food for the rest of the meal, talking just enough to keep Joyce talking. Ivy couldn’t tell if he was listening to her or not, but she knew he was unhappy about something. She also knew that she didn’t stand a chance of finding out what was bothering him with her mother in the room.

After dinner, Ivy loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and went back upstairs, while Gainor and Joyce retired to the living room. She closed the door and flopped down on the bed again.

This is wonderful, she thought. Like we haven’t been through enough crap already, now dad’s hiding something. She tried to think of what it could be, but couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer.

He lost his job. No, he wouldn’t keep that a secret. Besides, he would probably be glad to get rid of that commute. He’s having an affair. No, he wasn’t the type for that. He was so devoted to her mother it was disgusting sometimes. He’s… But she was out of ideas. What the hell is he trying to hide?

Those Games

2009-11-14T00:02:00.001-05:00

Friday's final word count: 21,043. I'm caught up again - almost.

Excerpt of the day:

The tiny, fragile body of his little boy, mostly covered by sheets, didn’t even look real. It occurred to him that maybe someone had replaced him with a wax figure and was just playing a cruel joke, that the real Kevin was hiding in the next room and would suddenly jump in and shout, “Boo!”

But life doesn’t play those sorts of games. It takes the coldest, darkest moment of your life and drags you through it face-first, drawing out the suspense and the pain and the anger until you think you can’t take it anymore, and then it keeps pulling you until you can’t even think anymore.

Many hours had probably passed before Joyce slowly pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed the funeral home. Gainor watched from his place on the ceiling, over his own head, while she told them to come pick up the body. He could scarcely believe it when they showed up only seconds later. Gainor’s body exited the room with his wife and his daughter. His heart stayed behind, locked in that room of horror, and his head made itself conspicuously absent.

Higgs

2009-11-12T23:11:00.001-05:00

I didn't write much yesterday, between being stymied for information on Christian youth groups and my writing room smelling like cat shit. So we'll skip yesterday's embarrassing stats and move right along to today.

Thursday's final word count: 18,393.

Today's research:
Thread on Christian Youth Groups
Map of Cuba, Florida, and Jamaica

Excerpt of the day:

“Nervous?” she asked, pulling away and unzipping her coat.

“Nah,” he said with a big grin. “What’s to be nervous about?”

She shrugged, and was saved from coming up with an answer when Higgs clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention. “All right!” he called, and the group slowly quieted down. “Everybody grab a chair.”

His name was Ray Higginbotham, but even the kids who were capable of pronouncing his name couldn’t usually be bothered, and so he became known as Higgs. It stuck so well that the adults started calling him that as well, and half the congregation couldn’t even remember his given name.

Dying Alone

2009-11-10T23:31:00.000-05:00

Final word count for Tuesday: 16,782.

Today's research:
Congenital Heart Disease

Excerpt of the day:

“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this,” the nurse said, sounding genuinely regretful. Joyce’s heart sank. “But Kevin passed away just now.”

Those words couldn’t be real. It wasn’t right. What have we ever done to deserve this? To be stuck on the side of the highway, being searched by pitiless soldiers for something they certainly didn’t have, while their little boy died by himself in a cold hospital, suffering from a disease that only eight in every thousand children ever got?

She didn’t realize she was on the ground until hands and voices pressed at her from all sides, touching and pulling and asking if she was okay. “No!” she wanted to scream at them. “No, I’m not okay! How can I be? How can we ever be okay again? The world just ended and you don’t even give a shit!” All that came out of her was an animalistic wail.

Surrender Your Weapons

2009-11-09T23:13:00.003-05:00

NaNo's website is down, so I can't enter my word count. I'm hoping it will come back up by midnight so my words for today will actually show up as having been written on Monday in the widget.

Monday's final word count: 15,068.

Today's research:
S&W Shotguns

Excerpt of the day:

“By order of the President of the United States, we are here to collect any firearms and ammunition that you possess.”

Bill frowned. “And what good is my handgun going to do the President?” he asked. “I believe he has more than enough money to buy his own, should he desire one.”

A swishing and clinking noise whispered through the men on the porch, and there was a general sense of making their rifles more obvious to the dense man behind the door.

“It’s a matter of national security,” the soldier answered. “The President has ordered that all private gun owners surrender their firearms and their licenses immediately.”

One Pet Monkey

2009-11-09T21:13:00.001-05:00

Final word count for Sunday: 13,545.

Excerpt of the day:

Their parents had stayed out in the hallway to give them a few minutes to themselves. Ivy wanted to spend what time she could with her brother before...she tried not to think that this could easily be the last time she would talk to him at all.

“So guess what?” she asked, as much to distract herself as her brother.

“You got a monkey?” Kevin guessed. Ivy’s smile was a little easier to force this time.

“No,” she said. “Guess again.”

“You won the lottery?”

“I wish!” she said fervently. If she had that kind of money, Kevin would be in a private hospital, getting the best treatment that money could buy.

“Um…I give up. What?”

“I’m suspended from school for the week,” she whispered, like it was a big secret.

Kevin’s eyes grew wide. “Wow. For what?”

“Fighting.” Ivy stuck her tongue out at him.

“Sweet!” he said, grinning. “Did you kick some ass? Who was it?”

“Damn straight I did,” she said, feigning offense that he could think otherwise of her abilities. Then she winked. “But you should see the other guy.”

Teenage Girls

2009-11-07T23:20:00.002-05:00

Final word count for Saturday: 12,063.

Excerpt of the day:

“I think they were in a hurry this morning,” he said. “Still figuring things out, you know? I suspect they’ll open another lane when they’re satisfied that everyone’s under control.” He pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured two glasses, setting them on the marble island in the middle of the kitchen, then walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Naomi!” he called. “Come set the table!”

“Coming,” came a faint reply from behind the closed door upstairs. It was a mystery to Bill why she hid in her room every second that she wasn’t required to be outside of it, but some of his coworkers who also had teenage daughters had said that theirs all did the same thing. One of those phases, he thought. I suppose it’s better than the terrible twos.

Breakfast Bread

2009-11-07T00:21:00.001-05:00

This stuff is amazing. It's super easy to make, doesn't take many ingredients, and is much tastier than it sounds from the recipe. It's really more like a cake made into a bread shape; somewhat like banana bread, if you've ever had that.

1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup milk
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour 9x5-inch loaf pan. Using electric mixer, beat sugar, eggs and butter in large bowl until well blended. Beat in milk. Mix flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt in medium bowl. Add to butter mixture and beat just until blended.

Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake until golden brown and tester inserted into center of bread comes out clean, about 1 hour. Transfer pan to rack and cool 10 minutes. Using small knife, cut around sides of pan to loosen bread. Turn bread out onto rack and cool completely. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Wrap in foil and store at room temperature.)

The Skateboarder

2009-11-07T00:18:00.001-05:00

Final word count for Friday night/Saturday morning: 9,778. Almost caught up again!

Today's research:
Pencil Spinning (If the link doesn't work, just look up "pencil spinning" on Google Video.)

Excerpt of the day:

Ivy wasn’t the only one sitting in the in-school suspension room. She was a little peeved that she was, in fact, still sitting there. She had listened while Mrs. Young had called her dad, and it seemed from the conversation that they were going to come and get her. Apparently they had changed their minds. Perhaps they wanted to punish her by letting her sit here all day and cool her heels. She knew better than to think they’d forgotten about her; it was definitely punishment. They could’ve at least asked me what happened, she thought irritably. Then if they want to punish me, they can have at it.

What truly surprised her, though, was her company. There were five of them in the room; that alone wasn’t surprising, nor were the three notorious trouble-makers sitting against the left wall, who were currently plotting something to do with stink bombs and rats. The surprise was the fifth person in the room. She was as out of place in a room for punishment as a skateboarder on a ski slope.

Synopsis

2009-11-06T02:29:00.002-05:00

I also wrote a synopsis today so my Novel Info page didn't look so blank.

Gainor Hassy just wants the best for everybody, and is willing to go out of his way to make sure they get it. He avoids confrontation and advocates peace. He even does his best to be friendly with a loud-mouth coworker, Bill, whose politics he finds reprehensible. After all, everyone is entitled to their opinions.

Then the President declares martial law, and America erupts into revolution. Gainor knows which side he stands on - until his ten-year-old son is mercilessly killed at the hands of an unsympathetic government. His wife Joyce starts rallying even harder for peace, but to Gainor, suddenly Bill doesn't look quite so crazy anymore.

Is it family loyalty to help your wife in her noble cause? Or is it family loyalty to turn your own values upside-down in the pursuit of justice for your dead son?

The Sniper

2009-11-06T02:15:00.001-05:00

Thanks to my busy Wednesday schedule, I've gotten a little behind, but I'm managing to keep it under two days. Final count for Thursday night/Friday morning: 6,797.

Excerpt of the day:

Looking up at the soldier’s face as he took the card back, Bill glanced over the man’s shoulder and was greeted with an alarming sight. Up on the hill, on this side of the razor-wire-topped chain link fence, was a large gun aimed straight at his face. He couldn’t see anyone behind it, but he was sure at this point that someone was back there, probably more than one someone.

“Thank you,” he was told abruptly. The little car shook as the trunk was slammed shut, and a soldier on the far side of the barrier waved him through. Feeling as though he had just taken a trip through an alternate reality, Bill drove out from the between the concrete pylons and onto the deserted far side of the highway. He reached the parking garage, left the car, and walked into his office in a haze.

No research today...just poking through my plot cards and trying to figure out which one to attack next. And asking a couple of procedural questions of Craig, who I'm beginning to think should be writing this novel instead of me!

The Orange Juice Reserves

2009-11-04T00:18:00.004-05:00

Tuesday's final word count (accomplished ten minutes into Wednesday morning): 5,067.

Excerpt of the Day:
“Look around us.” Ivy gestured with both arms, her floor-length coat spreading out around her like wings as she did so. “Does this look to you like we’re on the verge of war? Come on.” She tossed her head so her hair flew over her shoulder. “The only war we’ve had in the last twenty years never even reached

soil. What the hell does she think we’re gonna fight about, anyway? The dwindling orange juice reserves? Nah. That’s bull crap.”

Today's Research:
Army Ranks
Map of Fort Sill

Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Muffins

2009-11-03T13:14:00.003-05:00

2 cups flour
3 tsps. baking powder
2 tbsps. sugar
3/4 tsp. salt
1 egg
3 tbsps. butter, melted
1 cup milk, warmed
2 tbsps. cocoa
1/2 cup chocolate chips
1 tsp. vanilla

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Combine the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Melt the butter and add it to the warm milk. Stir the butter mixture and the egg into the dry ingredients and whisk until just blended. Add the cocoa, the chocolate chips, and the vanilla. Whisk until the cocoa is not entirely blended for a marbled look. Bake 20-25 minutes. Makes ~12 muffins

Writing Spaces

2009-11-03T12:16:00.001-05:00

I've been reading the writing spaces thread, and am considering what it would require to set up a real writing space for myself. Currently I'm parked on one end of the couch with my laptop in my lap. However, we added a desk to the spare room upstairs about a month ago, and I could probably do something with that.

Things I need or would need...
1. Index cards
2. Post-It Notes
3. String lights (I've got those around here somewhere.)
4. Chair (That should probably have been item #1, huh?)
5. Decorative thingies, yet to be defined
6. Place to post the index cards and/or Post-It Notes

Theater Skulls

2009-11-03T00:22:00.000-05:00

Yesterday's final word count: 2,000-something.

Today (well, Monday)'s final word count: 3,328, although my NaNo site time was set wrong and it only attributed 2,288 words to Monday and the other 1,100-some-odd to Tuesday.

Sentence of the Day (All-New Feature, Now For Your Reading Pleasure!):
By the time the bell rang again, the sad skull was satisfyingly depressed, but the happy one just didn’t want to smile.

The Last Thing I Googled

2009-11-01T21:18:00.004-05:00

I just ran across a thread in the forums entitled, "What was the last thing you Googled?"

"NaNo has now begun, which means that it's time to google those little facts that you never thought you needed to know. What's the last thing you googled for your novel?"

Here's a sampling of my recent research:

I Need A Heart Transplant?!
Military Bases in Oklahoma
Most Common Surnames in the US

NaNo 2009...Day One

2009-11-01T19:57:00.001-05:00

The last time I kept up this blog was for NaNo 2007, which was my first year doing this psychotic project. I also did it in 2008, but kept the blog elsewhere, in a more public space so my family could read about it. Unfortunately, I got some comments that were less than inspiring.

They weren't critical exactly, but my mother kept posting comments to the effect of, "These stories really make me wonder." Why must my stories make you wonder about me? A story can be a reflection of the author's own self, but doesn't have to be. When you read my writing, mother, I want you to read it for the story it tells, and not for any imagined pieces of psychological blackmail you can pick up on me.

So I've moved the NaNo blog back here.

I stayed up last night (well, technically this morning) to start writing at midnight. I realized at 11:57pm that I had been so caught up in my political research that I had completely forgotten to research heart transplants and reasons a person might need one. My MC's son dies early in the story of congestive heart failure when he is refused a transplant. So I did some quick research and started a few minutes after midnight. I made it to 1,303 before going to bed.

My boyfriend Craig and I were up early this morning to help my best friend Marie and her boyfriend Dan move into their new apartment. She had borrowed a rickety home-made trailer from her dad, which, when filled with furniture and a mattress, threatened to fall to pieces. We used rope to tie down the load, and then ratcheting straps to hold the trailer together. To get the straps to stay, they had to be wedged underneath the tail lights...which promptly started to come loose. I was watching those lights the entire way while I was following her, ready for the moment when they might suddenly shift and the entire trailer and all of its contents would disintegrate all over the highway.

Fortunately, that didn't happen (though I will say it would have been entertaining). The whole move went pretty smoothly, and I got more of a workout than I've gotten in a long while, carrying the heaviest two of the three cardboard boxes up the three flights of stairs myself. Well, I didn't actually carry them. I developed a complicated system of bracing, hip-checking, grabbing and nudging to navigate the staircases; and when I hit flat carpeted floor, I pushed on the top edge of the box and ran behind it, gathering momentum to try and minimize the friction with the carpet. It was, as I said, quite a workout.

We got home a little after 6:00pm, and I took a shower and sat down to write again. I made it to 1,700 (Precisely! My OCD is so pleased!) without much struggle, then wandered off to forum-hop. Next thing I need to do is get up and make soup.

FINISHED

2008-02-05T18:17:00.000-05:00

I'm in Quito, Ecuador right now, on a four-month student exchange program. I had a long weekend this weekend for Carnaval, and while I was sick and hungover from too much partying on Saturday night, I actually managed to finish my NaNovel! It's very clearly a first draft, with odd discrepancies and some lost characters. My MC's best friend, Luis, just disappeared halfway through with no explanation. But...I have done it! I have finished!

And no, I'm not going to go party to celebrate that. I need to be alive for class tomorrow morning. I will party on Friday, though, because that's my birthday!

The Race for the End

2007-11-29T23:54:00.000-05:00

My best and worst quality is that I'm stubborn. I'm 7,000 words behind with 23 hours left to go, and I'm completely determined to finish this. If I have to stay up until dawn tonight, I'm going to finish. If I get to 42,000 and don't finish, I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself! Everyone has told me that the recent drama excuses me from finishing, but I don't quite buy that. There are plenty of NaNoers who have crazy busy lives - school, kids, drama, you name it. And a lot of them manage to finish. I must do this. And now, back to multitaskingwriting!

I Have a Life? What?

2007-11-24T23:48:00.000-05:00

My novel is progressing slowly, suffering from the author's-fucked-up-life syndrome. I'm trying to deal with a lot of stress right now and several different people wanting my attention for different (and all essential) reasons. I spend my computer time now trying to switch back and forth between Word and my IM chat screens, often with more than one person at a time, which results in this sort of writing:

Write a sentence.
Read message from A.
Read message from B.
Reply to A.
Write half a sentence.
Feel guilty for ignoring B and reply to them.
Read message from A.
Write sentence.
Read message from B.

Repeat.
Scream in frustration!

My Behind is Getting Bigger

2007-11-24T01:52:00.000-05:00

Although I've pushed my word count over 33,000, I'm now more than 7,000 words behind. There's a week left of NaNo, and I was hoping to get all caught up over vacation. I don't mean to sound too pessimistic; I still have a chance, with two days left, but Saturday is filling up. Hell, what am I talking about, today is Saturday! It just feels like Friday night because I haven't slept yet.

I cruised through a scene where my character passes out in a burning building, and that was wonderful quick word-boost. Now I've gotten her stuck in a hospital, and I have the feeling that my scene isn't authentic, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not sure how to move the story along once she's out. Oh well, perhaps if I get some sleep things will be clearer in the morning.

Weird

2007-11-20T15:06:00.000-05:00

I just noticed the strangest connection between my novel and real life. Although I'm in the middle of writing, it struck me so hard I had to stop and blog it. Dylan and Raqi meet in the club, talk a little bit, and don't really become friends until the day that Dylan teaches Raqi to throw knives. Raqi is startled to find out that Dylan always carries her knife.

In real life: Craig and I meet in the club, talk a little bit, and don't really become friends until the day that Craig teaches me to shoot a handgun. I'm startled to find out that Craig always carries his gun.

The strangest part is that I developed the character of Raqi and her associated events and interactions with Dylan before I met Craig.

Headspace

2007-11-19T22:08:00.000-05:00

For the first time this month, I'm in entirely the wrong mood for the part of the story I'm writing. I came back from shopping with Craig and Angie and sat down at my computer...and I'm just totally uninspired for the part I'm in the middle of. It's a touchy-feely scene, heavy on the emotion, and that's just not how I'm feeling right now. I'm bouncy and full of energy and I would honestly rather go party right now than write.

However, my word count is only 28,000, so I really can't let myself use this time for anything else.

Except for that Spanish exam I haven't studied for that's at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning. Problem solved. Maybe thinking in another language will change my mood enough that I can calm down and write something afterwards.

I Got Behind!

2007-11-18T18:10:00.000-05:00

For the first time this month, I'm actually behind on my word count! I'm at a little over 27,000, and I should be over 31,000. Oh, dear. I tried to get going again a few minutes ago, but it's one of those stupid afternoons where I haven't accomplished anything yet, and therefore part of me seems determined not to. I got down about two paragraphs before our neighbors started being loud. Then I began a game of internet solitaire, and then cleverly started a discussion of Life, the Universe, and Everything with Fidget. Any of the above are pretty effective ways to stop a novelist, and all together they're a force to be reckoned with.

So, here's to hoping that a shower and a nap will fix up the writing mind a little. Also hoping that Turkey Break will give me the time I need to catch up again.

15-minute Script

2007-11-15T12:01:00.000-05:00

I found a thread on the NaNo Plot forums called "15-minute scripts." Basically, you take the important parts of your novel and turn them into a short, humorous script. Here's mine:

Title: Tall Heels
Setting: unknown city, current time

DYLAN: It's cold outside and I'm sleeping in a park. I need a place to live. But I have no money. I need a job.
LUIS: Good luck, go find a job.

DYLAN: I'll be a bouncer in a strip club.
CLUB OWNER: Haha, you're a girl. You can't be a bouncer.
DYLAN: *pissed*

DYLAN: I have no other options. I have to be a stripper. Luis, I don't want to be a stripper
LUIS: It's okay, you'll be okay. Go be a stripper.

DYLAN: Okay, I want to dance.
CLUB OWNER: Yay, we're desperate for girls.
DYLAN: I have no clothes, no shampoo, and I don't know what I'm doing. *steals shampoo and deodorant from a store, bathes in a river*

BABY: Welcome to the club. I'll show you around and act nice, then steal your shit when you're not looking, then yell at you for borrowing mine when you can't find yours.
DYLAN: These shoes are fucking stupid. I can't walk. *dances and makes money* Oh well, it's a job. Oh my god, who's that?
TAMRAH: Her name is Raqi. We know nothing about her.

DYLAN: Hi, who are you?
RAQI: I'm Raqi. Fuck off.

DYLAN: I have money, so I'm getting an apartment! Yay! My landlady is a sweet old grandma who gives me cookies.
MACK: I'm Dylan's crack-dealing ex-boyfriend, and I'm going to make her life hell. *shows up at strip club* Raqi, have sex with me for money, 'cos you look like you're ten and I'm a pedophile.
RAQI: *scared*
DYLAN: Leave her alone! *stabs with knife*
MACK: *leaves*
RAQI: How'd you do that? Teach me to fight!

DYLAN: Okay, I'll show you knife-throwing tricks, using the side of the building as a target.
LILY: Don't do that to the building!
DYLAN: Sorry, won't happen again.
RAQI: *cracks stupid joke*
RAQI AND DYLAN: *laugh hysterically and kind of become friends*

DYLAN: What's that noise behind me? Oh, it's Raqi. Hey, you live here too?
RAQI: Yeah. I look like a zombie but I'm going to tell you I'm fine. Good night.
DYLAN: I don't believe that you're fine. Good night.

DYLAN: I'm trying to sleep but I just heard the world's most terrifying scream. I'm going to go investigate. *goes upstairs* Oh my god, it's Raqi! *kicks down door, plays hero*
RAQI: You saved me. I'm a mess.
DYLAN: Come back to my apartment and leave your drunk mother and her rapist boyfriend. I'll make you canned soup, 'cos I'm too poor to afford tea, and hold you while you cry.

...and that's all that's written so far.

The Slump

2007-11-14T13:24:00.000-05:00

Remember that five-day lead I had? I looked at my word-count and my calendar this morning to discover that I was two hundred words behind on today's count. I've fixed that now, but I haven't hit tomorrow's - not even close. I haven't been this close to the line since day one, but thankfully my week is almost over. I called in to work for tonight because I'm really behind in my programming homework, but if I get caught up in that I can spend the rest of the night on NaNo.

BANG (My Week 2 Halt)

2007-11-13T00:44:00.000-05:00

Ugh, I got stuck. I got out of bed today at past 3pm, and by the time I finished "breakfast," it was dark outside. What a fucked up way to live - I feel like my day was put on upside-down. I completed and turned in my programming homework that was due five days ago, and I finished my grading of homework 6, but I haven't written a word today in terms of NaNo. My younger MC just asked the older MC to teach her to knife-fight, and although that sounds to me like a good lead-in to an easy scene, it stopped there with a rather loud bang.

The Brownie Pan

2007-11-11T22:36:00.000-05:00

Over 22,000 words...nearly halfway there! I changed some of Dylan's history and decided to make the story solely from her point of view. It was originally going to be split between her and Raqi, but I've realized I really don't need Raqi's all that much, so I'm just to do without it in favor of not confusing the readers. I'll have to go back and take out one small section, but it's less than a page, so I'm not too worried.

I've also made some more connections between the characters and between characters and events, basically just tying everything together a little bit more. I'm proud of that, but I'm kind of stuck at the moment. It's not that I'm really stuck with the story, because I know where it's going right now, it's more that I just ate half a pan of brownies and am really too restless to write but forcing myself to try anyway.

One thing I've noticed that I do regularly, probably one of the things that bothers me most about my own writing, is that my small details become incongruous, even when I think I'm paying attention. It's like watching a movie and seeing one of those stupid continuity errors, like the beer cup in American Pie that's blue, then red, then blue again without actually being replaced. I caught myself earlier mentioning someone being held over a campfire and then hiding under her bed. Clearly, if you're camping, you're not going to have a bed...

That's something I'm going to tell people to watch for if I reach the proofreading stage, because I know I'm bad about it. And with the number I catch, I figure there must be more I'm not catching.

Day...what now?

2007-11-10T23:10:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I lost count of the days. I guess it's the 9th, or it might be the 10th. Pretty sure it's the 10th, actually. As you can probably guess, I haven't written much in the last three or four days. My word count is a little over 19,000, so I've still got a lead, but it's a much smaller lead than before. It's a scant day-and-a-half now, as opposed to my previous five.

I have been thinking about the story, though, and the plot has changed again. Not drastically, but some of the connections and reasons for character's actions have changed. Most of the last several days have been chaotic, though, between clubbing, working, classing, grading, and trying to sleep off the first two.

I've also come up with a plot idea for my next novel, but I'm trying to avoid thinking about it too much so that it doesn't distract me from NaNo. Perhaps I'll make December my own personal novel-writing month. Or maybe not. Ehh, I'm feeling ambiguous tonight! How frustrating. I did get a wonderful back rub from Fidgy, though, so the night has actually been pretty good. There are many, many worse things in life than being spoiled by Fidget.

Now, however, I believe I shall stop rambling and go ~~write~~ sleep.

Day 6 (because all the imagination I could have used for a title is going to NaNo)

2007-11-06T17:12:00.000-05:00

My story is progressing nicely (knock on wood) and I'm several days ahead of my word count. Today's word goal is 10,002, and just a few minutes ago I hit 17,384, which gets me past Saturday's word count and half way to Sunday's. I didn't realize how much I'd written just today until I looked at the little chart thing on the NaNo website, which is back up now. I've done a good chunk today. That's very fortunate, because in half an hour I have to go to class, and then I'm spending the rest of the night at a goth club with a bunch of friends.

Speaking of which, I may not be writing much at all for the next two days...we'll probably get home "tonight" at about 3:30 tomorrow morning. I have to get up in time for class at 10:00, and then I pretty much go all day, not getting back from work until 2:30 on Thursday morning. Of course, I have to get up for class at the same time then, too. Agh!

Anyway, the storyline is pretty much sticking to my outlined plot, but my points were really only the major ones, so I've discovered the freedom to throw in some smaller surprises. I made one character mysteriously disappear, and invented a whole new one to create more trouble for my MCs (and simultaneously bring the two MCs closer together).

In real-time, my cell phone has run out of battery and I STILL have not recieved my wall charger in the mail, after more than two weeks. That means I have to go out and plug it into my car, which is a rather long walk from here, and it's cold and rainy outside. I think I'll wait until we're taking my car anyway to go clubbing...then again, if anyone changes the plans on me, I won't have a clue. Oh well, such is life. At least I've got a phone again - my last one had an unfortunate encounter with a toilet two days before Pumpkinfest.

The Greatest Bath Ever

2007-11-03T16:57:00.000-04:00

I've over 9,000 words in, and it's only day 3! I'm so proud of myself for being ahead of the game. That's Sunday's word count complete, and I'm aiming to make Monday's, too, which is 10,002.

The words have been flying for the last hour or so, because I was writing an amusing scene in which my homeless character steals some shampoo and takes her first bath in many months. As you can probably guess, I'm taking my blog break because I've reached one of those awkward transition points in the story, where I have to stop for a few moments and consider progress before pushing head. I know this isn't supposed to be in the NaNo spirit - "Just write! Screw thinking!" - but I think I can afford the five minutes. It's just how I work. Clearly it isn't holding up my word count.

Eric and I went to the store last night while Fidget was at work, and they were selling bags of Halloween candy for $1. We picked up two bags of KitKats and two bags of Butterfingers, which are in accompaniment to the bag of random trick-or-treating candy we already had. All this is not even to mention the bag of super-caffeinated coffee Ryan brought us. Ryan works at Starbuck's, which makes Fidget insanely happy. In short, our room is well-stocked for t3h m4d 1337 wrltlng5.

Time Off from Work to Write About the Virtual Job Hunt

2007-11-02T15:28:00.000-04:00

Once again, I'm using blogging as a quick break opportunity. I called in sick to work today, because I really am too sick to work. I was too sick on Wednesday, too, but if I called in for Halloween, Jimmy would've fired me. He's such as asshat. I made $120 after tipout, though, and I got to hang with Craig and Kylie, so I didn't feel too bad about going.

This morning, though, I woke up feeling like I'd come down with mono all over again, so I called in and they took me off shift. That means I'm not going in again until Wednesday, which, although I need the money, is okay with me. It'll give me time to work on NaNo, finish my programming exam, and get better.

By the time I went to bed last night, I was at just over 3,000 words, meaning I made almost two days' word count. This morning I didn't get out of bed until past 11am, called in to work, had a leisurely brunch with Eric and a bunch of other people, then came back here and continued NaNoing. I'm over 4,000 words, aiming for at least 5,000 by the end of the day. Honestly, I'm hoping for more, but if I make 5,001, that's tomorrow's word count goal complete.

As for my actual plot (yes, I do have one!), Dylan has decided that she needs to find a job. She cleaned up the best that a street child can, and is currently job-hunting.

In real life, the maintenance guys just showed up to fix the sink, which wasn't draining, and they showed up and completed the work with really remarkable speed. I've got a bag of candy next me which I really should put away, but I can't bring myself to do so. So then, back to the grind.

Aaand the Craziness Begins!

2007-11-01T21:23:00.000-04:00

I was at work when NaNo started last night, and I actually didn't realize it had begun until I got a text from Fidget saying, "happy nanowimo!" (Misspelling and all.) After work, I got a chili dog and a cup of coffee at the truckstop before driving home. By the time I went to bed, the coffee hadn't worn off, so Fidg and I stayed up talking for a few minutes.

Today was the day from hell, schedulewise. At 10am, I had to teach Spanish class with Julian, the French exchange student, because my teacher is lazy and makes the students do all the work. At 12:15, I grabbed lunch from the Hoot so I could be in the tutoring office by 12:30. During that time, I managed to get started on my NaNovel, though it was only for about fifteen minutes. At 1:30, I had study away orientation, which ran until past 5pm. I convinced my mom to buy me a quick dinner at The Works before she went home, and then I raced off to Sadistics - er, Statistics - at 6pm. I got out of stats and tried to write for a few minutes, but I was so wound up by that time that I hardly got anything done. At 8pm, I headed off to dance rehearsal with Shawn.

The dancing was definitely the most fun part of my day, and I'm now a little more relaxed than I was. In a few minutes, Fidget's going to go out and buy us mudslides to help the relaxation. (It's so nice having a roommate who's 21.) Keep in mind that I did this whole day with a bad head cold. I've had this beast since Saturday, and since yesterday I've been losing my voice. By the time I got to rehearsal tonight, I could barely talk; I greeted Shawn with more of a squawk than with actual words.

On the bright side, though, it's 9:35pm and I have no classes tomorrow. I've got the rest of the night to unwind and write, and I've already put down over 700 words. I suppose things could be worse. I'm trying to decide whether to go to work tomorrow or call in sick; I guess I'll see how I feel in the morning.

25 Hours and Counting

2007-10-30T23:00:00.000-04:00

I've been building my mom's business website/my final project for web design class for the last three hours. I'm taking a quick break before the %*^& navigation bar issues make me craaazy!

Anyway, there are less than twenty-five hours left until NaNo officially starts. Of course, that doesn't really matter for me, because I'll be at work at that time and unable to start writing until almost another twenty-four hours have gone by. But still, I will be excited to know that should I find a few minutes somewhere to spend with my computer, I'm allowed to put down words.

Not much has really changed with my plot since the last post, and nothing at all with the characters. I'm okay starting with things the way they are just now, so I've been hanging around in the forums, chatting and trying to put together a kickoff meeting for my area. I thought I finally had a date this afternoon, and then I realized that I'd cleverly scheduled it at the same time as my friend Shawn's dance rehearsal. Oh well. Such is the life of a busy person.

Plot Reworking

2007-10-21T21:15:00.000-04:00

Given that it's Sunday and I actually have some time for this, I've been revamping my plot a bit today. Before I go into detail, however, I'll post some of my character information and original plot, so the changes have some frame in your head.

I have two main characters, Dylan and Raqi. Dylan is 18 and ran away from home when she was 14. She lived for a while with a roommate, Marla, but eventually left because she ran out of money to pay rent and Marla was a drug addict. She's been living on the street since spring, but it's now August, and she has to find somewhere to live before winter comes.

Raqi is 13, living with an alcoholic single mother after her father died when she was 8. Her mother has a different boyfriend every week and Raqi is a victim of abuse by neglect.

The two meet in a strip club where both are dancers. Raqi began with the purpose of being a dancer, and has been there longer than Dylan. Dylan, who is big, strong, and a good fighter, applied to be a bouncer, but was laughed off because she's a girl and told she would be hired as a dancer.

Dylan and Raqi slowly form a friendship, though it doesn't go very deep because neither is very trusting. Eventually Raqi gets involved with drugs, and then there is a fire in the club. Dylan is deathly afraid of fire, so when Raqi is too drugged to save herself from the blaze, Dylan watches her nearly die but can't do anything because she's paralyzed by her fear. Someone else drags Raqi from the flames, and Dylan is overcome by guilt that she couldn't do anything to help. She realizes that there must be a lot more wrong in Raqi's life than she had thought, as indeed Raqi hadn't told her much at all of her personal life, and she reaches out to get to know Raqi better and help her.

With their job gone, though, their money is limited and lives are harder, and Raqi's addiction gets accordingly worse. Dylan finally falls apart.

It was at this point in the original plot that her brother Tommy came in, who had formerly hurt Dylan and was feeling guilty for it. Then I realized that he was a bit of a deus ex machina, if a previously well-introduced one, so I changed things around a bit.

Dylan leaves town and take Raqi with her, finding Tommy on her own. They stay with him and Dylan gets a job in another club, although Raqi is much too drugged to do anything useful anymore. She and Tommy don't get along, and one night she runs away. Dylan and Tommy have a fight, and Tommy leaves. He goes and finds Raqi, rescuing her from another near-death situation, which finally wakes her up to the fact that she needs to deal with her drug habit. When they return home, however, they find Dylan nearly dead. Raqi's running away has reminded her of her own running away, and she feels she has come all this way only to utterly fail and lose all hope, so she tried to commit suicide.

Tommy and Raqi bring her to the hospital, and when she wakes up and realizes that Tommy helped Raqi, she forgives him. I'm not yet sure how the three of them work things out and Raqi starts to recover, but after Dylan is a little more stable, she decides to go home at last and find her parents.

IF, at this point, the story is long enough, there is a happy reunion and everything is wonderful (although I still have to deal with Raqi's mother, as Raqi is underage). If, however, the story is not yet 50k, then when Dylan returns to her old house, it/her family are gone and she has to go on a hunt to find them.

Introduction

2007-10-20T20:20:00.000-04:00

Hello everyone, I'm Twitcherfly. I have no problem if you shorten that to Twitch.

This is my NaNoWriMo blog, and this is my first NaNoWriMo. I've been poking around in the forums, and am thrilled to find all the friendly people and amazing things they've posted. I've already set my desktop to display a calendar wallpaper with the wordcount posted in each day. This pre-gaming thing is really getting me excited - it's too bad THIS is my week off from work, and not a week in November. I'm starting my new job (assuming I pass the audition, which I'm sure I will) this coming Wednesday.

I started my planning, as it were, by wandering around campus and not really thinking about NaNo. Eventually I began to prod my brain for ideas, and I had a couple that I've already forgotten. Suddenly I remembered an old character that I used to write about years ago, named Kat. She was the main for every story I wrote, but my favorite story about her is one I never got around to writing.

I knew immediately that this was what I wanted to dig up for NaNo, but felt I needed to branch out from what I used to do. After all, I invented Kat when I was thirteen, and she was basically me. If I'm going to put this much time and effort into writing a novel, I don't want it to be about a character I feel is limited or too tied to my own life. So I started playing around and changing things, and I ended up with two mains. Dylan is the much-evolved version of Kat, and her co-lead, Raqi, is pulled a bit more directly from my old ideas.

One interesting coincidence that I've needed to explain to friends whom I'm telling about WriMo is in regards to the setting of most of my story. When I first had these ideas years ago, Kat and Raqi were exotic dancers in a club. That's a rather essential point to the story, and so it's one I kept through Kat's change to Dylan. The interesting part is that I myself am now an "exotic dancer," though I don't bother to euphemise that way, preferring the more honest term "stripper."

Anyway, as you probably assumed, I've named this DormOWriMo because I'm a college student living in a dormitory. My room is new and nice but very small, making me feel like I live in a shoe box. My roommate is my best friend, although also my ex, which makes life a little interesting sometimes in a not-entirely-welcome way. I've also talked her into doing NaNo. Though it sounds like a good idea now, I'm sure that toward the end of November, when we're both stressed, sleepless, and trying to make our word counts, the shoe box is going to shrink to a matchbox and all hell will ensue. Thus I feel my dorm may have more effect on my writing than many people might think at first. In any case, this will be a DormOWriMo to remember.

I suppose, if you are looking at my blog, that you might want to know something about me. You know some of the essentials already, so I'll throw in some tidbits I haven't mentioned. I'm a sophomore computer science major and programming tutor/grader. When I'm not in class, tutoring, grading, or stripping, which is a pretty rare thing, I enjoy running, snowboarding, and anything to do with music. I have a minor in Spanish, as well, and am looking forward to spending a semester in Ecuador come spring. (For those of you who asked, Ecuador is in South America.) My writing has always been pretty dark; although I'm capable of writing romance and puppies, my real inspiration always seems to come out in the darker things. Violence, fights, death, abandonment, the struggle to live, and general misery are my specialties. I guess even those of us whose dorms are themed in pink have a dark side.