Showing posts with label Novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Novel. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Tradition Continues

The annual writing endeavor known as National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) begins in less than eight days. I have been a participant in NaNoWriMo, with varying levels of success, since 2006.  Each year I look forward to writing, and, each year, I appreciate the extrinsic motivation to write. I have actually “completed” a novel twice in the past six years, which, compared to many participants, is not a great average.  However, I always assuage any feelings of literary inadequacy by reminding myself of my busy life; my dedication to my job, which takes more time than most would like; and anything else that I can use to justify not giving adequate time to feed my writing jones.

When I first started doing NaNoWriMo, a friend of mind sort of scoffed, saying it was impossible to write a novel in one month.  She was right, of course.  You don’t just sit down on November 1, start hammering away at a keyboard, and get up on November 30 with a completed novel on your hard drive.  But it is possible to write a first draft of a novel in a month.  At the very least, it is possible to write a collection of 50,000 or more words (the length of a short novel) in a month.  What one does with it after that is up to him or her.

After my first NaNoWriMo experience, in 2006, I felt an amazing sense of accomplishment, having dashed off (over a month…maybe not dashed off, but anyway…) the longest piece of cohesive writing I had ever done, short of my Master’s thesis.  In many ways, it was more of a challenge (and more cohesive) than my Master’s thesis.  However, I knew when I was done that I had a creature with a host of warts.  There were unresolved plot points, random digressions, fake chapters, all in the name of getting finished.  When forcing myself to produce words, only thinking about getting something on the page, completing my goal for the night, the week, the month, I let logic and any idea of an end result go.  It was far more important to get the novel written than it was to make sure it was in something close to a polished state.  That is what drafting is.  The experience of participating in this madness reminds me of what the writing process really is, and it helps me, I believe, be a better writing coach to my students.

It is one of the hardest things to do with young writers, getting them to forget about the end product and to just write. It is understandable. I am asking them to engage in a certain action to perform a particular task.  They know that I will be evaluating their published draft.  It will be consumed, weighed, assessed, and assigned a value.  This is an A, this a B, and so on.  It is school writing.  But their best writing always comes from some other, more personal place.  After all, I don’t enjoy NaNoWriMo because my draft will be evaluated at the end.  Hell, no one has even seen either of the novel drafts I have written in the last six years.  Not even a paragraph. But, I want them to engage in the writing process without the goal in mind. (It is perhaps more accurate to say “the goal they set for themselves,” since, really, my goal is not to assess them—I would rather never put a grade on another paper again as long as I live. My goal is to have them learn, through experience, how to effectively communicate their ideas through writing. It is only a necessity of the system of education we have that that learning is expected to have a letter assigned to it that more or less reflects student learning and standing when compared to standards and (don’t tell anybody) other students. After all, why have class rank if you are not comparing students to each other…but I digress.)

It really is a kind of Zen exercise, writing without the goal in mind.  Once a student sits down with a vision of what an essay should be, it influences every choice they make, and it is nearly impossible for them to write honestly about what is important to them, or at least what is worthwhile to them to say. And who can blame them for considering the end before they even imagine their beginnings? So, I try to build assignments in such a way that students can arrive at topics that are meaningful to them by giving them choice and open-ended prompts. I try to constantly remind them not to worry about questions like “How do I start this essay?” Frustratingly for them, my most common answer to such a question is, “You start by writing.” Or, “Start at the beginning.” There are always those kids so wrapped up in the rubric or their grade that it takes a short conference on strategies for introductions.  And, honestly, I hate having that conversation.  What I really want students to do is to just sit down and start making that music that I love to hear, the tick tack tick of the keyboard being exercised.

For that is how the process begins, not by writing an awesome attention getting sentence that takes a student twenty-five minutes to write and agonize over and edit and rewrite and delete and start again.  After a class period, she might have a really excellent pair of sentences, but she hasn’t really been writing.  Not really. She’s been practicing building sentences, or fitting her words into a structure that she thinks is what writing should be.  What I would like her to realize is that writing is messy, that first drafts always suck, that you can’t write a novel in a month, but you can have a hell of a time grinding out a first draft.

And then, she can go back and excise the dead weight, add in some detail, shore up a shaky foundation.  I have been slowly revising an ancient draft for six years. Of course, one might say, a student doesn’t have six years.  That’s true.  But we aren’t asking him to revise 50,000 words. 

Sometimes, one of my kiddos gets it.  Sometimes, like today, I say, “Start at the beginning,” and she does. And, as she works her way through that mess that she is slapping down on the page, I watch her struggling. But I can tell she is not struggling with the writing. She is struggling with the natural tendency to fix something and with the tendency to ask me if a paragraph or a choice she has made is “alright.” I sense that she really wants to, but she doesn’t.  That’s when I know that she really is engaging with the first stage of the writing process.

Which is exactly what I will be doing, again, when all the little ghouls and goblins wake up on All Saints Day and realize they have eaten way too many Butterfingers the night before.  I will be engaging in the first stage of the writing process, and, if I am lucky, when the last of the turkey and stuffing leftovers are consumed and Santa Claus has strolled down Fifth Avenue once again, I just might have another massively problematic first draft that will take me a lifetime to fix.

By the way, if you are interested in joining me on this fabulously maddening writing adventure, go to the Office of Letters and Light website and look me up, my username is underdog30.  

Saturday, November 28, 2009

We Have a Winner!

Well, I don't know what I will do with myself for the rest of the month, but I am finished with this year's awful first draft! Just made it to the end, and, if my last novel-in-a-month is any indication, this one needs about five more years of work before it even makes sense.

So, maybe I will be blogging a bit more frequently. Take that as a promise or a threat, but for today, I am tired of writing.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The Hair of November

As I furiously try to catch up from my unproductive (writing-wise) weekend, a fortnight ago (I hope to sail past 40,000 words tonight and continue until I am at least on schedule, or ahead--time is getting short), I thought I would take a short break to update you on the one thing that I am able to do simultaneously with writing--growing facial hair.

This picture was taken yesterday. I decided to go with the smiling picture. The other one makes me look too much like John Bell Hood.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Significance That Signifies Nothing But More Work Ahead

Hey! As I said earlier, I have been dedicating my writer muscles to NaNoWriMo, but I thought I would send out an update to those who might wander by here while I am occupied. This evening, only two days behind schedule, I reached the mid-point of this year's writing marathon. At 25,000 words, I don't know if I am at the midpoint of the novel itself, but I am at the midpoint of the prescribed monthly word count quota of 50,000. And, since I must say, it feels good!

Also, a shout out to Boring Election, who is also endeavoring to complete a 50,000 word marathon this month. Wish us luck, folks (and think about giving it a try yourself, next year)!

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

November, The Bastard

November is a month without a rep. The Great Pumpkin has forsaken us again, and left us drunk, wet, and cold, shivering in the pumpkin patch to welcome All Saints' Day alone. Kris Kringle is still many weeks away, with his thin reeded pipe, his coal-black boots, his snowy evenings, and his merry freaking self.

What does November have? The broad-breasted white turkey? Perhaps one of the stupidest birds around, bred only for the bodaciousness of its white meat? The hand? That which we all, as children, transmogrified into a rainbow colored version of the aforementioned whitey?

Really, it's not much.

So, as I spend most of this month making up sentences to turn into a novel that many people don't believe is possible, I won't be posting much. After all, what is there to say in November?

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Time Flies Like an Arrow (Fruit Flies Like a Banana)

The title of today's post is attributed to a master of linguistic humor, Groucho Marx. Another favorite of mine from him: "Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." Funny, huh?

This is the last week of term one. Finals begin on Thursday. It has been a whirlwind start to the school year, some of which has been documented here. I will be glad to have a full quarter of the school year behind me, and I look forward to a week-long break (which includes a short trip to Minneapolis this weekend!).

As well, Sunday next brings us All Hallows Eve, the night before, yes, that's right, my friends, the beginning of National Novel Writing Month. I will be playing along, again this year. I invite all three of you to join me. It really is a wonderful thing to just zone out and write...try it!

That's all I got for now. Dinner time is upon us, and I am in need of some grub.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Starting Late

It is getting to be that time of the year, my friends, as November 1 ushers in National Novel Writing Month. I will be giving it my best again this year, after not quite making the grade last year. Unfortunately, we won't return from Oregon until Sunday, which will put me two days behind (unless I do things the old fashioned way out west, which I might). We are still in the planning stages here, but hoping to have a clearer view by the weekend.

I hope to post as I go.

I am still fighting with the crud that invaded me on Friday (or before). I went up to school this morning, but I am still feeling kind of tired and dizzy. A trip this week could be a bad idea, but what else am I going to do? I'm sure I'll be fine.

If I don't communicate with y'all again, have a great week!

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLS!

The past weekend saw a reprise of the weekend before that and the weekend before that: me shovelling snow. The forecast promises with 40% accuracy that I may be doing the same thing this coming weekend. At least it's only two or four inches at a time.

I sit here typing this entry, knowing that my next one (after this one) will signal me reaching a goal that I set for myself. It is important to set goals. Without them, how will we know that we have achieved anything. For many the goals are small (remember that awful Bill Murray-Richard Dreyfuss film What About Bob?--"baby steps"). For others, goals are large (see Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, or (sadly, a goal never to be realized) Dennis Kucinich--when Amy Pohler is playing you on SNL as Alfred E. Newman meets Alfalfa, you got no shot.

I have set several goals for myself this year, none of them explicitly voiced or even written down. Inside, however, I knew what I wanted to accomplish this year. I set birding goals: fifty Nebraska birds by the end of the year--nope, didn't get this one. Three hundred life birds--nope, not yet. I set school goals: survive this first year--so far, so good. Make it through first semester without physically assaulting a sophomore--I think I am going to make it. I set writing goals: finish a second novel: not even close. Finish revising last novel: did that.

My blog goal was decidedly unlarge. I wanted to post 120 times this year. That is an average of 10 posts per month, which goes about once every 3 days. I thought that was a reasonable goal. And, with my next post, it shall be realized.

Hooray for me!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

On This Day in History

Last year, on this date, I had reached the 20K word mark on my novel, The Fingers of Time (formerly The Trials of Vernon). Today, I am just under 10K for this year's attempt, If This Were A Movie. I am despairing, but I am not giving up. I was not the most productive writer this weekend past, but a friend of Monkey's was in town from Minnesota. I didn't write much at all. I have knocked out about 4000 words between today and yesterday, but I will really have to get cooking this weekend if I have any hope of finishing this puppy.

Just thought you might want to know what has been occupying my time (or, at least, my thoughts, since I am not actually DOING anything) lately.


I'll try to be better next time.

Friday, November 09, 2007

My Good Fortune and Borrowings

Today I find myself with a day off. Our school is hosting the state volleyball tournament (how am I supposed to say that, Osculator?), giving all of the teachers and students a three day weekend. Hoorah!

I plan on spending it cleaning the house, catching up on the "novel" (I know the Dingo doesn't believe it possible, but I do...), which I am far behind on, and, of course, because there really are no true days off for a teacher, planning and grading.

School has been an up and down proposition these past few weeks. I am still having a hell of a time with my "younger" students, but I was evealuated on Wednesday, and I think it went well. I have a follow-up on Tuesday, and we will get our feedback then, but I am positive. So, as Carl says, I got that going for me.

Other than that, I have little to report.

In response to a comment from a reader (hello, Ethan!), I would suspect that western societies are not more prone to psychological disorders. Studies may show a higher occurence of them, but that reason may have something to do with taboos in other societies against reporting or seeking help for psychological conditions. Keep in mind, I am not even an citizen-expert on this subject, but, if I remember, I will consult with Monkey (who is a professional expert) and get back to you.

As, Hodg-man likes to say in his closing: that is all.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Here We Go Again

We interrupt "A Very Long Western Story" to bring you this important message: it's on again!

Thursday, October 18, 2007

The Bird Of Paradise Flies Up My Nose

Lest it be said that only the darkness is allowed to pervade Central Standard, allow me to relate to you that I have had a pretty good week, so far. We're talking Cornopolis-style, lads and lassies. I have felt pretty on my game at school. As well, I have given myself a good talking to and decided to permit myself to be imperfect. This will, if past experience is any indicator, only last a week or two, and then I'll be right back to kicking myself for the littlest things, but, hey, I gotta be me.

In addition, I got an email from NaNoWriMo , reminding me that it is time to sign up. In 12 days, it'll be writing time, again! Woo hoo! I don't know if I can pull it off this year. Of course, I didn't know if I could do it last year, and I did, but this year, with all of the changes.... Already, I am making excuses. Boo! However, I did not complete Script Frenzy this June due to the move, so a precedent has been set (and an unfinished film script needs more attention).

And, to top it off, I nailed a trey from the top of the arc at basketball Wednesday, so, you know, I've got that going for me. Along with the fact that, after tomorrow's half-day of finals, I have a week off, and Monkey and I are going to South Dakota! We plan on seeing the half-finished Crazy Horse, the giant president's heads, the Badlands, the Black Hills...lots o' clash of cultures history. I am pretty psyched.

Now, if we could just get the football team up here back on track, life in Nebraska might start looking up.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

The Enemy Lends His Support (And Suffers Some Existential Angst)

I sat down here at the old keyboard, perfectly intent on ranting about how ridiculous George Steinbrenner is for even contemplating the firing of Joe Torre. Don't get me wrong, as a life-long Yankee hater, it would be a good thing for me. Torre is an excellent manager, and the Yanks would be hard pressed to find an equal replacement. However, the mere fact that an owner is public threatening to fire a manager who has won four Championships and been to the playoffs twelve times in the past twelve years is simply disgusting to me. That's the short version of what I wanted to say.

When I logged on to Blogger, I found a link to Post Secret, which I have visited before. I meandered over there (as we all have a tendency to do when we are faced with the universe-like infiniteness of the internets), and got a bit lost. I got to thinking of all the little dramas that are being lived in the world right now. All the deviousness and joy. All the betrayal and communion. I began to think of the timbre of other lives, and then I began to think of the lives that I might have lived. That ever happened to you?

I guess that's why I love reading and writing so much. I can experience and create so many different realities to live in for a little bit of time. Escapist? You bet your ass. Have you read the newspaper lately? Milk has doubled in price since 2004, and highly qualified supervisors are losing their jobs because some spoiled rich dude can't buy himself some esteem.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

In Which Our Boy Contemplates Colonizing Mars

We're a fun bunch of guys
And we come from outer space
On the planet where we're from
War is even fun
We're a fun bunch of guys
--Sparks, "A Fun Bunch of Guys from Outer Space"

Last week was a busy one, what with Speak Your Mind Forums, Hickman Review coffeehouses, Battles of the Bands, etc. But, we've managed to navigate the last super committed week before the end of school. Only finals loom large on the horizon, unless you notice that impending move that is standing hairy and large just behind it. But, that's a story for later.

You may recall my participation with National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November. Next month brings a new writing adventure from the same crew at the Office of Letters and Light: Script Frenzy (ScriFre?). The idea is to write a playscript or screenplay during the month of June. I really want to play along, but June is going to have enough going on, so I may take a rain check this year. Writing a script has slightly less appeal for me, since I have previously written a few. I never had written a novel, and I really needed the made up motivation of something like NaNoWriMo to help me accomplish that goal. But, I still might give it a shot. I'll let you know.

I rode my bike to work this morning (and barely missed getting rained on, on the way home). I took a break on the sofa when I arrived back home, and spent part of an hour watching the remainder of a Science Channel documentary on Dr. Robert Zubrin, the aerospace engineer advocate-guru of manned missions to Mars. The show outlined how we might get there and what we might do when we do get there. It was fascinating, but disappointing.

Disappointing on one level because of the indignation it engenders in anyone who grew up during the era of manned missions to the Moon (okay, I more came to consciousness rather than age during this period, but I was breathing when Aldrin, Armstrong, and Collins finally made that "one small step"). After 1973, NASA seemed to have lost any sense of direction, launching experimental missions to study a million different things that may or may not be useful in the future. Without a goal, it seems that NASA is simply just another government program that politicians can use to pork up their districts. But, I digress.

It was mostly disappointing because, even if the directors decided to go full on toward landing men and women on Mars, the potential of human colonization (something I think we ought to do for several reasons which I will not get into here--but, rest assured one of them isn't because we are soon going to make life untenable here--that's not going to happen...nor is it any reason to hop ourselves on to another unsuspecting planet) isn't even close to happening for about two hundred years. I'm talking serious colonization, successful colonization (which includes a Mars that looks nothing like the Mars we know today--I'm talking about a place where Dr. Spaceman can talk a stroll around the outside of the compound without a pressure suit or an oxygen mask).

Why is that disppointing? Because I want to go! And, as much as I think I am going to live forever, my human brain does not really believe that that forever will last two hundred years. Sure, any future me may be able to go, but I am bummed for present me. (I will spare you any detailed discussion of my concept of the nature of being, viz. life/death/next life/death/next life/so on (by the way, I am not of the Shirley McLaine school here, but there are some similarities, I guess (is anyone still following this?)).

Of course, I am also left with a host of questions, not the least of which is: since space travel is by nature cost prohibitive, will colonists be limited only to those ridiculously wealthy who can afford it? Or will it be more akin to 17th and 18th century sea-faring colonization, in which one might purchase one's passage as a deck hand or an indentured servant? I could see that happening. After all, those rich bastards have to have somebody to fetch their water and protein shakes.

I know I will be around when all this actually occurs (it will, believe me--as soon as somebody figures out how to make some money off of it), I just won't be around as the me that I am today. At any rate, I'll see you on Mars, baby!

Sunday, April 29, 2007

In Which Our Boy Shakes Off the Blues

Here it is, nearly one pm on Sunday, and I sit to take a break from a whirlwind of activity. Yesterday, Ripken roused me from sleep at 7:15. I let him out, made coffee and perused the papers (Tribune and NYT). After a bowl of cereal, I ran to the hardware store to buy a pair of waterproof gloves, climbed the ladder, and cleaned the gutters. The recent rains had reminded me that this needed to be done, because all of the water running off the roof cascaded into the open bedroom and living room windows. This was not good.

But, yesterday was beautiful, so, yanking funky muck from my gutters in the warm morning sunshine was actually kind of pleasant. After that, I decided to wash all of the blinds in the house, since that has not been done for nigh on eight years, and they were getting a little dingy. It takes quite some time to do that. As a matter of fact, I only did about half of them. I watched a little bit of the Cards-Cubs debacle before running back to the hardware store to get some plumbing supplies to fix a minor problem with the bathtub. The hardest part about that was buying the right size cotter pin, but, I did.

I was getting a bit hungry, and had been thinking about lo mein since Friday afternoon, so I wizzed buy China Chef to pick that up. Back home, I had the end of the game on in the background, as I fixed the tub and finished some more of the blinds. In between, I also did some laundry.

From about seven to nine, I finished making all of the changes to the first draft of the novel on the computer. Of course, in a few weeks, it will be time to work through the second draft, but I am glad I can say I am making progress. At nine pm, I lay down on the sofa to read. An hour later, I woke from a short nap to trudge off to a proper sleep in the bed.

This morning, I took a bit more time with the papers, did some cleaning in the car port, then mowed the lawn. I still have to go grocery shopping (next on the list). I also hope to get some grading done, work on a future assignment, and play softball this evening. The sunshine sure does perk a brother up.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

In Which Our Boy Contemplates His Old Age

I was sitting on the sofa the other day, trying to decide whether to get up and eat something or continuing sitting on my duff, when it dawned on me that I am going to be a sad old man (whenever I become an old man). I can only hope that Monkey is around as long as I, so she can keep my miserable backside moving. When she's not around, I sometimes can't get motivated to do anything but go to work (and that is hard going sometimes). I can't even be bothered to blog (yet, here I am...progress?).

It has rained alot this week, that always puts me in a foul mood. Mostly, however, I think I just get a bit blue and self-absorbed when she's not around. After all, she is an integral part of who I am. Without her, it's like a piece of me is not around. I know I sound like a Shel Silverstein poem (or...ugh...a Nick Sparks book), but, it's true.

Come home, Monkey.

I've been reading Atlas Shrugged. It's one of those "I always wanted to read it, but it's so goddamn long" kind of books. I really thought it would be dry and didactic, but, so far, it is pretty captivating. The characters are intriguing, and it has (even though it was written well after and is not quite so futuristic) this sort of Fritz Lang-quality that I like. Maybe I am way off base on that one, but, it's the best way I can describe it.

Also reading High Fidelity. The Nick Hornby book they made into a movie with John Cusack--you know, the one in which Jack Black got his "big break". I hate the movie for that. I mean, the Jack Black character in that movie fits the bill perfectly, but, has anyone noticed that that is all he can do? It's the same damn character in every movie. He's even the same character when he's playing with Tenacous D. Hello! That's not acting, that's just him being him. Can't wait to see him on Inside the Actor's Studio telling all the first years to "be in the moment." That's actor speak for "I don't know how to act." But I digress. The book is actually pretty good. It's British, so, it is far different, on some levels, than the film. Which is a good thing. The most appealing thing about this book is the main character's straight-on analysis of himself as a guy in a relationship (any semi-committed relationship). I am finding him highly entertaining. Is it a book that has a universal appeal? I don't know. Is it great literature? Nope. Am I digging it? I am.

For those keeping up (which I haven't been). I updated The Fingers of Time. I know it's been a few weeks, but I have been busy. I threw two posts on there. Three sections total. Enjoy, if you want.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

The Hook

Yes, I have been observing radio silence for over a week. I guess I've just felt like I didn't have much to say. Ithought I'd take this morning's opportunity to give you an update on the novel.

I am still in the process of revising and editing. It's a slow process, but I think I am making some good choices. It remains to be seen.

I did spend some time recently writing a hook for the novel, since, once it's ready, I might as well send it out to see if anybody's interested. Keep in mind, this is an early draft. Read at your own peril.

A story of time travel, brotherly love, and talking dogs, with a healthy dose of severed digits, liverwurst, and world domination mixed in, The Trials of Vernon follows a day in the life of the title character as he comes to grips with the relationships in his life.

Tuesday dawns as a normal day: Beth is at work and Vernon is off to The Bagel Bin for breakfast, but that’s when things get strange. Vernon’s waitress disappears, leaving him to serve his own coffee, and, eventually, Vernon finds himself reliving the previous two hours. After finding the waitress in the park communicating with his dog, Vernon leads them on a quest to discover how and why his temporal difficulties are affecting him. In the meantime, Vernon’s brother, Brother, is in the midst of his own bad day, as his missing finger eventually lands him in jail, and Stanley, an eccentric collector of everything, laments that he ever gave Brother’s finger away. Of course, Kasha, Stanley’s frequent companion in the indulgence of liverwurst sandwiches, seems blissfully unaware that she is somehow responsible for all of this, as Baraboo Jones minds his bodega, waiting for his chance to conquer the western hemisphere. Throw in some omnipotent chipmunks and Bill, the unofficial watchman of Hot Dog City USA, and it’s no wonder that Vernon eventually realizes something important about himself.

Does that pique your interest?

Today sees the convergence of two great things: chicken nugget day and the last day of school before winter break. God bless us, everyone.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

We Have A Winner!


Well, after neglecting my students, my colleagues, my friends, my wife, and a host of other things, it has all paid off.

I finished my novel! I am amazed how it sort of all came together, and how some things I had been working on in the past (and some things waaaaay in the past), raised their ugly heads in this piece, too.

It was a slog, but it has been worth it, especially since Monkey is now showering me with kisses!

And now...prepare for a possible snow day on Thursday/Friday.

Think about this: I finished my novel on chicken nugget day. What could be better?

Sunday, November 19, 2006

On Target

I have finally made up the difference between where I should be and where I am. I should have, if I want to finish the novel by Nov. 30, 31, 673 words by the end of today. I currently have 31,844. So, instead of being my usual 3000 words behind, I am actually almost 200 words ahead and am on pace to finish on time. And, should I so desire, I can keep plugging away and get even farther out front. But, I have written 7000 words or so this weekend, so I feel like I've done enough. I think I'll spend the rest of the day grading papers and watching Peyton Manning carve up the Cowboys.

Monkey and I are gearing up for Turkey Day. Pie making on Wednesday (hooray two day work week!), so Monkey is happy about that. And company coming into town, too. So, it should be an exciting week. Stay tuned.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

The Halfway Point

This morning, at approximately 7:39 CST, I crossed the 25000 word mark! This is an achievement, but it only serves to remind me that I have a long way to go, and less time than is optimal to get there. BUt I am determined. I was talking to PartnerTeacher yesterday after school, and I realized, while talking to her, how disappointed i will be in myself if I don't get this done. This morning (at least the first two hours of it) has been encouraging. Can I write 5000 words today? I'd feel so much better about my prospects for completing this task if I do.

By the way, at this stage of the process, I am pretty sure this monster will never see the light of day. It reeks. Sorry, Osculator. Then again, after a few months go by, I may want to show it off just because I did it. And we can laugh together at how bad it really is...or we can be surprised when we find something worthwhile (if we do find something worthwhile (if we CAN find something worthwhile (aw, hell, let's just agree to laugh at it))).

Off to type some more (after a nutritious breakfast, of course).