Well, in one way I guess I failed National Novel Writing Month -- it's now December 1 and I have 15, 246 words. That's quite a bit short of 50,000, but I also didn't stick to writing every day. That is the work of 10 days, and I have to say I'm impressed with that. Definitely been a worthwhile venture. I'm going to keep working on my book just to finish a first draft. Then we'll see if I want to do anything with it.
Either way, I'm counting it as a success! Apparently only 19 percent of participants got their 50,000 words, so I don't feel too badly. :) And hey, I averaged some 1,500 words a day -- I had no idea I could write like that! In 10 days work, I've surpassed the novel I've been working on for six months -- that project is only at 6,000 words.
I'm so excited to be learning about all this -- watch out, December, here I come!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
I got it to work! After fiddling with my blog settings, here is Chapter 6 of my for-fun book that I've been working away on this month (fyi: it's loosely based on Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility":
While Daniel made friends easily at Littleton Middle School, he sat with Natalie, Scott and Louise every day for lunch.
Well, he sat with Natalie at least, and Scott and Louise happened to be at the same table.
And on nice days, he and Natalie walked home from school; they walked about half way home on the same streets.
For the first month and half they knew each other, they would hang out occasionally, but during the last four or five weeks, Natalie had found a way to see more and more of Daniel. They made plans on the weekends and they would hang out at least twice during the school week.
And every day, every hour and every moment Natalie spent with Daniel, she liked him more and more. Things seemed so easy between them, and Natalie wanted to spend every minute she had with him. Her whole world had adjusted so Daniel became the center of it. He was perfect, and things were perfect with him.
“So,” Louise ventured one day when they walked from English class, “are you and Daniel … together?”
“Um, I don’t know,” Natalie said. “What exactly do you mean, ‘together’?”
“Oh, come on, Nat,” Louise said. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Does it matter?”
“Natalie, I guess I just wanted to know where everything stood. You don’t talk to me anymore.”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“You spend all your time with him, you ignore me and Scott at lunch. Just wondering if you guys were ... you know … official.”
Louise stood in the hall, looking up into Natalie’s face, her blue eyes sharp.
“Are you mad at me?”
“You haven’t been the same since Daniel moved to town. You only talk him now.”
“Lou, do you think I’m hiding something from you?” Natalie couldn’t believe Louise was looking at her like this, with a harsh look on her face.
“No, you don’t hide anything.”
Natalie stood in the hall, students filing past her, with her mouth slightly open. She’d never heard Louise talk like this to anyone, with a sharpness in her voice that cut Natalie like a knife.
“I’m … I’m wondering if you’re replacing us,” Louise’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper, her voice belying the emotion under her steely eyes.
Louise was only a few inches shorter than Natalie, but it was enough that Natalie had to look down at her friend’s face. Her expression hardened as she looked at Louise.
It was hard to remember a time when Louise had not been her friend. Louise, although always prim and proper, was the sweetest of people and never thought of herself.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Natalie said. Why would Louise accuse me of something like this? she wondered. I’m her best friend! She understands how much I like Daniel. She’s just jealous – she probably wanted Daniel all to herself from the beginning!
Tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes; she blinked them away to find Louise standing firm, still looking sternly at her.
“Lou, how can you say this to me? Why are you trying to hurt me?”
“I should have known,” Louise huffed. “Everything’s about you, and how you feel!”
“Great, so I’m ignoring you and I’m selfish!”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself!”
And with that, Louise swung around, bumping Natalie roughly with her backpack, and stalked off to French class.
Natalie was stunned; she couldn’t really think or move. She just stood there as students jostled their way around her.
What is Lou’s deal? she thought. I love Daniel. Why shouldn’t I spend as much time with him as I can? I thought she understood how I felt.
Her feet started carrying her toward French class, but she didn’t want to see Louise right now, even if Daniel would be there. Instead, she ducked into the girls’ bathroom. She headed for a stall at the end of the room, slammed the door shut and sat down on the lid, barely containing her sobs.
Louise and Natalie hadn’t fought a day in their six-and-a-half year relationship. She didn’t fight with anyone, not with Scott and not with her family. Ok, maybe she fought with her 16-year-old sister and her 9-year-old brother, but only sometimes.
Natalie couldn’t fathom what had gotten into Louise, only that she was jealous. But Lou hadn’t ever given any inclination that she liked Daniel. They barely ever spoke!
Natalie cried for a good 20 minutes, nursing the hurt Louise had caused. By then it was way too late to go to class, so she spent the rest of the class period trying to make herself look like she hadn’t been crying.
Daniel was waiting for her at her locker after class.
He looked at Natalie and his eyebrows crinkled in concern.
“What happened?” he asked.
While Daniel made friends easily at Littleton Middle School, he sat with Natalie, Scott and Louise every day for lunch.
Well, he sat with Natalie at least, and Scott and Louise happened to be at the same table.
And on nice days, he and Natalie walked home from school; they walked about half way home on the same streets.
For the first month and half they knew each other, they would hang out occasionally, but during the last four or five weeks, Natalie had found a way to see more and more of Daniel. They made plans on the weekends and they would hang out at least twice during the school week.
And every day, every hour and every moment Natalie spent with Daniel, she liked him more and more. Things seemed so easy between them, and Natalie wanted to spend every minute she had with him. Her whole world had adjusted so Daniel became the center of it. He was perfect, and things were perfect with him.
“So,” Louise ventured one day when they walked from English class, “are you and Daniel … together?”
“Um, I don’t know,” Natalie said. “What exactly do you mean, ‘together’?”
“Oh, come on, Nat,” Louise said. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Does it matter?”
“Natalie, I guess I just wanted to know where everything stood. You don’t talk to me anymore.”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“You spend all your time with him, you ignore me and Scott at lunch. Just wondering if you guys were ... you know … official.”
Louise stood in the hall, looking up into Natalie’s face, her blue eyes sharp.
“Are you mad at me?”
“You haven’t been the same since Daniel moved to town. You only talk him now.”
“Lou, do you think I’m hiding something from you?” Natalie couldn’t believe Louise was looking at her like this, with a harsh look on her face.
“No, you don’t hide anything.”
Natalie stood in the hall, students filing past her, with her mouth slightly open. She’d never heard Louise talk like this to anyone, with a sharpness in her voice that cut Natalie like a knife.
“I’m … I’m wondering if you’re replacing us,” Louise’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper, her voice belying the emotion under her steely eyes.
Louise was only a few inches shorter than Natalie, but it was enough that Natalie had to look down at her friend’s face. Her expression hardened as she looked at Louise.
It was hard to remember a time when Louise had not been her friend. Louise, although always prim and proper, was the sweetest of people and never thought of herself.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Natalie said. Why would Louise accuse me of something like this? she wondered. I’m her best friend! She understands how much I like Daniel. She’s just jealous – she probably wanted Daniel all to herself from the beginning!
Tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes; she blinked them away to find Louise standing firm, still looking sternly at her.
“Lou, how can you say this to me? Why are you trying to hurt me?”
“I should have known,” Louise huffed. “Everything’s about you, and how you feel!”
“Great, so I’m ignoring you and I’m selfish!”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself!”
And with that, Louise swung around, bumping Natalie roughly with her backpack, and stalked off to French class.
Natalie was stunned; she couldn’t really think or move. She just stood there as students jostled their way around her.
What is Lou’s deal? she thought. I love Daniel. Why shouldn’t I spend as much time with him as I can? I thought she understood how I felt.
Her feet started carrying her toward French class, but she didn’t want to see Louise right now, even if Daniel would be there. Instead, she ducked into the girls’ bathroom. She headed for a stall at the end of the room, slammed the door shut and sat down on the lid, barely containing her sobs.
Louise and Natalie hadn’t fought a day in their six-and-a-half year relationship. She didn’t fight with anyone, not with Scott and not with her family. Ok, maybe she fought with her 16-year-old sister and her 9-year-old brother, but only sometimes.
Natalie couldn’t fathom what had gotten into Louise, only that she was jealous. But Lou hadn’t ever given any inclination that she liked Daniel. They barely ever spoke!
Natalie cried for a good 20 minutes, nursing the hurt Louise had caused. By then it was way too late to go to class, so she spent the rest of the class period trying to make herself look like she hadn’t been crying.
Daniel was waiting for her at her locker after class.
He looked at Natalie and his eyebrows crinkled in concern.
“What happened?” he asked.
NaNoWriMo
I must admit I have fallen off the wagon. *sigh* Let's just say novel production halted during the last week. And while I think I've put myself too far behind to reach my goal, I'm not completely giving up. I've hopped back on the wagon, although I don't think it will reach the original destination, at least not when I thought it would. Oh, well...
It's still been a very good experience. In the six days I wrote during the first week and the one day I've been able to fit in so far this week, I've written 13 chapters and made it past 50,000. I didn't know I was capable of that! Plus it's added a passion, almost an obsession about my project. Once I got going, it was easier to do more and as I went along, my characters and plot started falling into place. So maybe the story really is all there, I just have to get going. I think once I finish this, I'm going back to my big YA fantasy project and start pushing my way through a first draft.
And I really wanted to share a chapter from my book, but for whatever reason I cannot get it to paste into this window. Poooo.....
It's still been a very good experience. In the six days I wrote during the first week and the one day I've been able to fit in so far this week, I've written 13 chapters and made it past 50,000. I didn't know I was capable of that! Plus it's added a passion, almost an obsession about my project. Once I got going, it was easier to do more and as I went along, my characters and plot started falling into place. So maybe the story really is all there, I just have to get going. I think once I finish this, I'm going back to my big YA fantasy project and start pushing my way through a first draft.
And I really wanted to share a chapter from my book, but for whatever reason I cannot get it to paste into this window. Poooo.....
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Still writing...
I am chugging along in my November quest for a novel.
Current word count: 3,123.
Now that I'm getting into it, it's not really a question of having the time. I'm finding the time; it's more a question of the words to fill the page or the knowledge of where my story is going and what I want to say. Breaking it down, I should average about 1,700 a day. I've been doing more like 700 words a day. Ugh.
Maybe this will get easier as I keep chugging along...
Current word count: 3,123.
Now that I'm getting into it, it's not really a question of having the time. I'm finding the time; it's more a question of the words to fill the page or the knowledge of where my story is going and what I want to say. Breaking it down, I should average about 1,700 a day. I've been doing more like 700 words a day. Ugh.
Maybe this will get easier as I keep chugging along...
Monday, November 2, 2009
NaNoWriMo
Yep, I'm doing it! What is NaNoWriMo? That's a good question!
It's National Novel Writing Month, sponsored by a nonprofit organization. Basically, it's just a way to motivate you to write. You sign up for a free account and during November, you write 50,000 words. I'm not sure if I really have the time, but hey, why not attempt it? I started today and I'm really excited about it! If you can do it, they send you a certificate showing that you did it.
I decided to go for something fun, maybe not something for publication but a project just to get me writing. I'm writing a YA based on Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility," or at least inspired by her plot.
Wish me luck! Here's the link to NaNoWriMo: nanowrimo.org.
My current word count: 550.
It's National Novel Writing Month, sponsored by a nonprofit organization. Basically, it's just a way to motivate you to write. You sign up for a free account and during November, you write 50,000 words. I'm not sure if I really have the time, but hey, why not attempt it? I started today and I'm really excited about it! If you can do it, they send you a certificate showing that you did it.
I decided to go for something fun, maybe not something for publication but a project just to get me writing. I'm writing a YA based on Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility," or at least inspired by her plot.
Wish me luck! Here's the link to NaNoWriMo: nanowrimo.org.
My current word count: 550.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Confessions of a slacker...
Ok, maybe I am a slacker. But I've been writing!
I've been taking every Tuesday "off" from my mom job to write, and it's been thoroughly enjoyable! And I'm happy to say I'm up to six whole chapters of a young adult fantasy book about a girl who has dreams. Yes, very mystical.
I would probably be further into my story, but I've had a brief editing spurt going from first-person point-of-view to third person. Tedious, but I think things are feeling more natural now. I don't know if I just started my story in first person because I feel like my main character is imparting things to me that way and I thought the story would be told best that way or for some other reason. Unfortunately, it wasn't working... So, third person it is!
I'm learning a lot about writing. If you're interested in writing books, especially for the YA genre, check out "Wild Ink!" by Victoria Henley. I devoured it and was left wanting more! I'm also reading her other book, "Seize the Story." If you already know the basics of this kind of writing, you can skip the second one, but I highly recommend both!
I'm also reading Orson Scott Card's "Ender's Game." It is much darker than I anticipated for a science fiction about a six-year-old boy. Does anyone else want to take this kid out of Battle School and send him back to his mother where he'd be loved? Ugh! I'm a little tormented, but I guess that's what keeps me digging further into the book. I need some resolution!
If you're reading some great YA stuff, send me some suggestions. Always trying to broaden my horizons and check out different writing! :)
I've been taking every Tuesday "off" from my mom job to write, and it's been thoroughly enjoyable! And I'm happy to say I'm up to six whole chapters of a young adult fantasy book about a girl who has dreams. Yes, very mystical.
I would probably be further into my story, but I've had a brief editing spurt going from first-person point-of-view to third person. Tedious, but I think things are feeling more natural now. I don't know if I just started my story in first person because I feel like my main character is imparting things to me that way and I thought the story would be told best that way or for some other reason. Unfortunately, it wasn't working... So, third person it is!
I'm learning a lot about writing. If you're interested in writing books, especially for the YA genre, check out "Wild Ink!" by Victoria Henley. I devoured it and was left wanting more! I'm also reading her other book, "Seize the Story." If you already know the basics of this kind of writing, you can skip the second one, but I highly recommend both!
I'm also reading Orson Scott Card's "Ender's Game." It is much darker than I anticipated for a science fiction about a six-year-old boy. Does anyone else want to take this kid out of Battle School and send him back to his mother where he'd be loved? Ugh! I'm a little tormented, but I guess that's what keeps me digging further into the book. I need some resolution!
If you're reading some great YA stuff, send me some suggestions. Always trying to broaden my horizons and check out different writing! :)
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I'm really not a slacker...
Ok, I had a goal to post something once a month, and I have been slacking with that. But I haven't been a complete slacker! I'm happy to announce I've pretty much finished my first book! Granted, it's a children's book and only takes up one page, but I wrote it in August and have spent a lot of time editing it. Thanks to everyone who has given me input -- I'm pretty happy with it. I guess that means it's time to delve into that scary place of query letters, slush piles and agents to try and get it published!
I've also been working on a young adult fantasy book, and I've written the first chapter! I've got a basic idea in mind for what I want to happen, and I know how it will end. I just need to get writing some more and see how it will get there. :)
Keep watching for more tidbits; I'll try and get back on track!
I've also been working on a young adult fantasy book, and I've written the first chapter! I've got a basic idea in mind for what I want to happen, and I know how it will end. I just need to get writing some more and see how it will get there. :)
Keep watching for more tidbits; I'll try and get back on track!
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Invisible Mother
I didn't write this, and apparently no one knows who did. But I absolutely love this and wanted to share it.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible - The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more.
"Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?"
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?"
I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?"
I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.
It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "'I brought you this."' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."
And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible - The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more.
"Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?"
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?"
I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?"
I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.
It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "'I brought you this."' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."
And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
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