Just a very quick blog entry for you all. After library class last night I by chance started to talk to one of my classmates and somehow the keyword “cherry trees” led us to discover that we grew up in the same city, went to the same elementary and junior high schools and knew a ton of the same people. And as soon as she said what her first name was I knew exactly who she was,
Beyond that magic has happened in my coffee shop. I’ve earned the notoriety of being an interesting enough face, and regular enough customer that ~almost~ anytime I come in they give me free coffee. Plus refills through the night! See, I have my way. I’m an interesting looking character, I always sit in the same seat, they know I am writing a novel, and well, the hours I come during no one just comes here and sits for hours on end. There are nights I’m here when there is no one else here at all. And it being a Starbuttz they have to stay open corporate hours.
I’m doing Nanowrimo, yes it’s true. Today is day three and I haven’t started on today’s word count yet. To make the 50,000 words by November 30th one has to write 1,666 words a day. I’m up to 2,051 as of last night. Didn’t have enough time to make the mark yesterday because of school. But today I’m shooting for 2500 words and will try to make so many again both Saturday and Sunday. I am an anti-social Nano. There have been several Nano get togethers here in the Bay Area so far and I have not gone to any. I’ve never gone to any during any of the other years I participated in either. This is a deeply philosophical dilemma for me. Writing is a sole process, not a group process. I’m not so much a Nano, as a writing using the gimmick of Nano as a tool for inspiration to just get me to sit down and write. Really, that is all that it comes down to for me. I mean, god knows I could use some socialization and (new) friends… speaking of which, I made an effort to make a new friend last weekend… And I’ve also set up a MySpace page. Check it out if you want.
The only other thing worth mentioning is meds related (possibly). I got a clean bill of health report from my liver tests. The Cymbalta is not affecting it in any ill manner, TG. But I am having this terrible, terrible problem with muscle cramps. Doc checked my potassium and magnesium levels, all is well there. But I wake up in the middle of the night with cramps in my legs, and now they are spreading to other areas. Right now I have a cramp forming in my mid back below my left shoulder. My diet is NOT good right now. Many days I only eat one thing. I don’t think I drink enough water (or anything else…) I just don’t carry an awareness of my self that warrants doing anything different/better. I am never hungry in the morning. I usually don’t get hungry till dinner time and then I’ll just get a big burrito at Chipotle. Doc said to start eating bananas, which I’m doing more of. It all comes down to that I just can’t afford to buy more food to eat, and so I have adapted to not eating so much. I hope the cramps will stop cause they are effed up.
Oh, and tomorrow is my son
What is wrong with my writing right now: an essay by
I would say that the thing most obvious to myself that is wrong with my ability to write consistently right now are the facts that I am not truly connected to my inner spirit. And even now as I read those words that I just wrote, while trying to find an answer that sounds more like an excuse than a truth. Although I think back to periods of time, even when I was in the inspired stages of creating this very novel that I am working on now when I experienced daily epiphanies of discovery and powerful feelings of self worth because it all seemed to be “coming together”. Times when I was both strongly inspired and was feeling physically healthy. (Don’t mind matters of feeling mentally well other than not being in incapacitating depression. Mania so rarely destroys me. Depression is my slayer.)
I enjoy so much being back able to work now. If there were a wage attached to it, that would be nice, but I don’t know that I am just ready for that level of responsibility yet. Right now I am only obligated to appear at work 4 hours a week. The job that is available to me would require my attendance 10-15 hours a week, during hours that right now would be very difficult for me to adjust my sleep routine to. I think once I clean these meds out of my system some I may start to experience a more normal need for sleep, and may be able to sleep more normal hours. Last night I was dead asleep by but today could not stir from that deadly sleep until . That is bad! And then I feel like a zombie for a few hours… couldn’t even get out of the house till nearly this afternoon.
This has been my pattern for months now, and tomorrow is the last day of Daylight Savings Time. I’ve been mentioning the approach of this for a couple of weeks now because for me it is a serious thing. The immediate shortness of day light is a sort of impending doom that I have no protection from. Last winter my depression got bad once the storms started to blow in. I love the stormy season for its moodiness but it ends up making me more of a hermit. If I don’t feel good to start with physically the darkness, I don’t know, it seems to seep into me and bleeds me out from inside.
I think part of what allows me to give myself excuses about not writing 2,000 to 5,000 words a day to just pour this novel out (and see, there I’ve broken another rule of “novel writing”, you are not supposed to tell anyone that you are writing a novel. You are just supposed to do it, damn it!) is that I confusedly carry this “novel” as a torch to make people think that I have something important in my life to work on. What I want to say I am lacking right now is a “writing coach”, like
Today I have one true friend that encourages me on a daily basis to be enthused about my writing and to pursue this project, and I am so thankful for her. But she is far away and only one person. Although, I do admit that she believes in me more than anyone else ever has. Re: the idea of enlisting more supporters, I think that… hmmm, I’m not sure what I actually understand about this. I kind of have a theory, damn, well this whole post has been a theory of a sort, and see, now while I’m writing all these thoughts out I’m not writing ‘my novel’ either… I think I need a little mania to help me get more excited and focused, and right now my mania is deadened by these pills. And my good physical feelings are deadened…
I have one other writing support, my cousin
Ok, well by talking to you this way I’ve actually reconnected with my spirit a bit. Some fog has cleared, There is a fearful thing about writing something you consider serious for permanence to be in a book. Once you allow your thoughts to go one way, and you follow that path, the story is set. It can’t be told a different way. It takes courage to allow a story to be pressed into a page. I let this letter to you flow honestly from my heart and spirit to your eyes… I need to find that openness of spirit again to trust my story to blank pages…
To be continued…
The First Commandment of writing fiction is, Sit Your Ass in the Chair*. And sit it there daily. Strap on a seat belt if you must, but sit.
*And the other nine commandments are:
2. Thou Shalt Not Bore the Reader.
3. Remember to Keep Holy Your Writing Time.
4. Honor the Lives of Your Characters
5. Thou Shalt Not Be Obscure.**
6. Thou Shalt Show and Not Tell.
7. Thou Shalt Steal.***
8. Thou Shalt Rewrite and Rewrite again. And again.
9. Thou Shalt Confront the Human Condition.
10. Be Sure That Every Death in a
**If you have something to say, why would you make it difficult for someone to understand you? Could it be that you’re not so smart? That you think if you muddy the water a bit, it’ll seem deeper than it really is?
***Artists who have weighed in on the Seventh Commandment:
T.S.Elliot: “The immature poet imitates; the mature poet plagiarizes.”