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NaNo 2002: Day 11

My lead in the Montreal NaNo Word Count Derby has been threatened.

I should explain something. I write as fast as I read, so when I sit down for a couple of hours to write, yes, my word total goes up rather quickly. I’m not steamrolling forward with the intent of finishing first; I’m just writing, and enjoying myself. This isn’t about having the highest word count, not by a long shot. I type fast, I think fast (at least, when I’m on my own – put me in a RPG situation and I’ll wait for someone else to initiate action), and I work at home, so I can fit novel-writing in with less trouble than most people.

When Ceri, with whom I lunched and attended the Place du Canada Remembrance Day ceremonies, informed me that (a) I was universally and cheerfully hated by the other Montreal NaNos at the coffee meet yesterday (which I missed, as I was writing!), I laughed. When she then told me that someone had passed me in the Word Count Derby, I was all prepared to groan dramatically and shake my fist at my agreeable rival Emily (nothing personal, Emily, you know that, right?). However, I was stunned when she told me that, no, it was someone who had been somewhere between seventh and tenth on the list who had skyrocketed up all of a sudden.

Well.

See, I was fine about this word count thing up until the point where Tal mentioned that he’d love it if the first Montreal NaNo to hit 50K was someone he knew.

This, coupled with Ceri’s news… well, let’s just say that all of a sudden, it’s personal.

So I’m off to write. I should be preparing for a class that I’m teaching tonight, but I can wing it.

Maybe I should corral my cats and them start writing from the end of the novel, so we can meet in the middle. Heck, next year, I should just let them write their own novel.

NaNo Reflections

It’s snowing again. Wet, messy snow that’s sticking to cars and sidewalks. The roads are wet, and I can hear the sticky hiss of tires on Sherbrooke street.

Ladled up from Ceridwen’s Cauldron:

She told me that after the first day she had gone to friends’ blogs to find out how the first day had gone. She was disappointed with the result. Sure, some of us had posted word counts, but that’s no indication of how the day actually went.

It was an awkward time of day to call people, I didn’t want to e-mail anyone and put them on the spot, so I surfed web logs instead, and no one had really said anything. I mentioned this to Ceri in passing, and now that she has blogged about how she felt on her first couple of days of NaNoWriMo, I figure that I should, as well. She credits me with the stimulus to talk about the first day or so, after all, so unless I wish to be subject to tomato-throwing fans, it’s only fair that I do so, too.

It was good. It was comfortable, and I felt like I was accomplishing something. I didn’t clock-watch; I wrote what I needed to and just let new things unfold, as if I was reading someone else’s story. It can be tidied up later. Better words can be carefully chosen some other time. I haven’t really reread it all from beginning to now, but I’m fairly certain it flows.

Not that it matters. This is about hitting a quota, of discipling yourself to sit down daily to do something, and, of course, to say at the end, “I have a big gloriously messy novel” and then say, “neener, neener” to anyone who asks to read it.

I mentioned to a few friends that I wouldn’t be comparing word counts; this project is for me, it’s not a competition. When I went to post my word count the first time on the official site, though, I wandered around a bit and looked, because I was curious. I didn’t want to beat myself up, I certainly didn’t want to gloat… I was just interested in seeing how others’ works were unfolding. Yesterday I discovered that three people claimed to have hit 50,000 words already, and that one actually claimed to have reached something like 999,999. In three days. Right. I went back this morning to check it out again, and found that the individual in question has been removed. Good to know the organisers thought it as unlikely as I did.

This leaves two people who have achieved their goal already, one of whom joined on November 3 itself. Which would mean s/he likely registered after she wrote the novel, because I checked late morning on the 3rd, and s/he’s in Virginia, so the pretext of a vastly different time zone can’t even be used. What gets me is that the word-count programs don’t go on-line until November 15th, so these counts and claims can’t be verified until then, which gives anyone claiming to be finished the morning they joined a two-week buffer to actually hit his or her count.

No, I don’t care. It doesn’t affect me. What bothers me is the idea that some people don’t care about the rules. I have no way of verifying if this person has a novel or not; s/he just might, and that would be great. If s/he doesn’t, then s/he’s just cheated him/herself.

Back to me, though.

I love writing, and I love being able to write. The two days I’ve sat down and written for three or four hours straight have been terrific. As Ceri says, I felt like a “real writer”. I feel like that already, though. I don’t need (another) novel, finished or in progress, to prove that to me.

However… this is the first novel I’ve written where I actually feel like I might be able to do something with it afterwards. I have a context imposed upon me from the outside, so I won’t be too sprawling. I feel more focused in my efforts. The Great Canadian Novel feels similar; I’m focused, not reaching out wildly on tangents, but I’m letting it unfold as it wills, too. I think the difference lies within the knowledge that there’s an ultimate word count goal, so I’m just letting the NaNo novel run on. I don’t really edit myself in the GCN, either, but there’s still a difference, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. The GCN is more complex, but I’m assuming that comes from the less-frantic approach. The GCN has time to breathe. I do write primarily for myself, but in the back of my mind I’ve been thinking about attempting publication sometime in the future; I just need a likely manuscript to sacrifice. The NaNo script will likely be that sacrifice, since the GCN is too precious. I’ll cut my teeth on the NaNo novel, and then we’ll see how things have gone before I go leaping into the publishing fray with the GCN. Publication is not validation, not by a long shot. If you have a finished novel, though, why not try? The worst they can say is “No”. (Which is plenty crushing for any author, thanks very much.)

I won’t be writing as much as I’d like to be today, because my fellow professor e-mailed me to remind me that I had volunteered to teach two-thirds of the class tonight. I had agreed do it last week, and then in the next seven days my free time sank spectacularly in Kingston television performances, rituals, teaching, NaNo writing, and crisis-handling. This leaves me today to finish reading two books and to prepare a seminar on them. In addition, with all this snow, I have a sneaky suspicion that my husband will be home by early afternoon. Now, if only I could work those books and seminar into the NaNoWriMo novel somehow…

Halloween Recap

Okay, everyone else has mentioned the costumes, but for those who don’t frequent other local web logs, here you go:

I promise better photos with more detail of my costume anon, when we’ve developed our film from the Hallowe’en party. No, you can’t see the Evenstar that Ceri was so impressed with… you’ll just have to wait for a close-up full-front shot to appear somewhere. In the meantime, if you want to play around with enlarging these ones for a better look, you can check them out here. (Many thanks, Scott!) My husband and Ceri‘s husband were two of The Endless from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman universe, Destruction and Destiny; here’s Destruction’s source art:

See, we told you he was an archetype…

On Creating

So there�s gloating going on over at Ceridwen�s Cauldron, too. I really need to break this down, for my own sanity.

You have a vision. You design your vision on paper. You struggle with dropping far-fetched elements, or elements that would just be too difficult (as cool as they would be!). You research methods and materials, then purchase materials. You begin the process of bringing your vision into the tangible world. There are obstacles, challenges, mis-read directions, the discovery that the process you theorised would work in fact would defy physics. Methods are re-evaluated. Shortcuts are taken. Certain steps are lingered over. When a step is completed successfully, there is joy, pride, excitement. When the entire project is done, those emotions are directly proportional to the amount of time spent from conception to delivery, anguish felt during the process, challenges triumphantly defied. There�s a physical proof of your talent in bringing vision to reality.

Hallowe�en costumes aren�t about impressing people (okay, I grant that there�s a bit of thrill when people behold your work), they�re about having fun during the creation process; and since both Ceri and I are costume addicts, creating a new costume calls for more time and energy than the average person usually thinks is sane. Ceri and I aren�t building things up by gloating; we�re simply celebrating a couple of months of work, of fun, and now we�re anticipating even more fun when we get to share all that work with others and generally have fun at a party with friends.

Kind of like planning a wedding, now that I think about it. Except without the irritations of caterers and finalising food.

Champagne � okay, sparkling cider � should definitely be involved at this party, I think. It’s a celebration, after all.

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Note to self: if you decide to have two layers in a costume, you have to hem two layers.

Sigh.

Three days ’til the party. I’m 98% done. Just have that wretched second hem to do. Thank the gods that Ceri came over yesterday and helped by pinning the first hem in place for me. I have to practice that Handel today (yes, I know, I had all week to do it, and predictably, I did not), and I’d like to get the basic four-seams-and-I’m-done completed on my husband’s vest, too.

I went back to the sinus medication this morning. The light on-pseudoephedrine feeling is preferable to the heavy, I-can’t-even-think-let-alone-function feeling of having my sinus cavities clogged up.

Onward, ever onward…

83296210

Yawn. I need a weekend after my weekend. Not that I was rushed; I just went from appointment to appointment to appointment from Friday night all the way to this morning.

I saw my osteopath for the first time in a couple of months today. When I emerged from my warm flat to walk over to the sports clinic, the world was quite dark, and a few cars even had dustings of snow caught in the crevices between windows and frames (that dreaded S-word!). When I left again over an hour later, I could just see a line of pink through the clouds to the south-east, but wow, was I relaxed. We truly don’t understand how our bio-mechanic operating system gets off-kilter and requires more energy to run efficiently until we’ve been tuned up.

I spent Sunday in Kingston at the local COGECO cable TV station, in production meetings and rehearsals for the live True Story of Dracula broadcast the Midnight Players are doing on October 31st. I love the slogan our producer came up with: Radio As You’ve Never Seen It Before! The whole premise of the show is that we’re doing a 1930s broadcast in front of a studio audience. If you’ve ever seen the film Radioland Murders, then you know exactly what we’re trying to reproduce. Radio features used to be performed live in front of an audience: performance theatre with scripts, nominal costuming and sets. For The True Story of Dracula we’re doing the same sort of thing. I’ve done radio shows in studios, radio shows at a mike for recordings, and radio shows with no broadcast at all in front of an audience, but working with cameras and a standing mike is new for me. Watching the rehearsal rushes yesterday, I can see that there’s a whole different dynamic required; a TV camera asks that the actor make eye contact, or at least not have their eyes glued to a script, for visual interest’s sake. This means, of course, that the script has to be pretty much memorised, so you can interact. Which leads me to wonder why we’re even using scripts at all, since if you’re holding a piece of paper with words on it, even if you know those words backwards and forwards, your eyes will instinctively glance downwards and try to capture the phrase, get tangled up in all the lines, and as a result you stumble. Mankind doesn’t trust itself very much; we tend to second-guess ourselves and create more problems than we’d have had if we’d stuck with our first instincts.

It’s going to be a blast, I know. While I’ve worked with cameras before, on films and interviews and such, I’ve never been involved with live broadcasts. I’ve done eighteen years of live theatre, though, so to see the two blended will be fascinating. JDH took some digital photos of the first rehearsal, so when we get those up I’ll link them so you can get an idea of what was happening (now that I’ve figured out my Sympatico storage space!). You’ll just have to imagine the set and costumes that will be there on the 31st. (JDH, by the way, filmed a fantastic mocumentary section on the life and times of our ol’ pal Vlad, looking slightly scruffy and professor-like as he told creepy stories in the basement of a chilly old deserted school. Complete with rather large millipedes and slamming doors, none of which were faked.)

And before the 31st, I have that Hallowe’en party that I need to finish my costume for. Ceri is coming over on Tuesday to help me hem metres and metres of fabric (bless her), and I have an hour of quick stitching for my husband’s costume (which he developed all on his own, and he’s doing the bulk of the work; I swore I’d not do anyone else’s costume again for years, but an hour of donated time on my part is fair, I think); then — ’tis done! I’m going to get even more wear out of it than I expected — I have another party to attend at the beginning of November, which is just fine with me: the more mileage, the better!

Good Days

I had a fantastic day yesterday. That’s about it. Four hours of playing in the store, dinner with Ceri, a smash-bang-wow workshop, a request for a private workshop for a group on the South Shore, then drinks with friends.

On the way to the pub we stopped in at Renaud Bray and I picked up those inks, because I was paid for my full-time work last week and for last night’s workshop (private instruction is so much more lucrative than retail!) and I thought that I deserved a little treat for surviving the past two lean weeks. I now have those darling little oval pots of cuivre, marron, and spring green. Yay! We got home last night and the first thing I did was get out my dip pen, sit on the floor and make lines all over a sheet of blank parchment paper to see what it looked like. I’ll be paying Hydro off in full later today with a chunk of my earnings, but before that, the inks were a lovely little gift to myself. (Note to self: ink (both black and colour) for the printer would probably help too.)

Over dinner last night Ceri gave me her latest pages of creative effort, and for the first time since we began doing this exchange of writing in July, I had nothing to give her. I felt guilty when I left the flat yesterday morning, but then I told myself that I really didn’t have to feel that way since I had given her seventy-eight (!) pages of the Great Canadian Novel over the past three months. I did try to write earlier this week, honestly I did; but I opened the laptop, made a couple of corrections as I re-read the eleven pages of the latest section, and then stared at the screen for about twenty minutes. I’m stuck. Normally when I’m stuck, I jump to the next scene and then go back and fill in the necessary space with an event of some sort, but the next scene I had planned was Christmas shopping, and the characters were still only in mid-November with no way to get to early December. So when I shared that frustration with Ceri yesterday, she said, without missing a beat, “Make it snow,” which was absolutely brilliant and I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it. Another of Ceri’s super-powers, by the way, is being a Muse for people. She gives them great ideas. She occasionally laments that alas, she doesn’t inspire herself in the same fashion, so I can only hope that our writing arrangement covers at least the deadline sort of inspiration that writers need. I did give her a nifty idea for her husband’s Hallowe’en costume, but I doubt it even comes close to repaying the Muse-debt that society has incurred to her.

I’m terribly looking forward to driving up to see my parents next weekend; I haven’t seen them since July, and we haven’t made the drive to Oakville in this new car yet. After its spectacular performance through New York and Pennsylvania, this five-hour spin should be a dream! Seven days to go!