I have lost track of my story's flow in the middle parts, which are historically tricky anyway. How many stories to tell and how to keep them flowing? So soon it will be back to Bibisco and my outline and writing the new scenes I have now drawn (in rough pen sketches, like stick figure rough). But now it is late and I am tired. Just my cat, Merry, is still here with me. The rest of my family has wandered off to bed.
Life is hard right now, but writing is a great consolation. I am glad God invented it.
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Nanowrimo 2018
Nanowrimo is here again and so am I. November is such a great month for it. School routines are settling in but the holidays are still not upon us (except my family did tentatively step into the Halloween waters this year... bit of mixed feelings on that one...). So here I am again. It draws me in each year like tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. I catch a glance, then a whiff, and then before I know it I'm signing up and choosing another title for the same story. Yes. The SAME story. Five years now? When was my first Nanowrimo?
(Running off to check)
This is my 4th year entering.
Tea.
Aze.
Sun.
A boy who I have no idea what his name is. Oh yeah, why. Why? Like Why. His name is Why? Yup. (Just because it makes me laugh. Every time.)
The Changeril (see, the titles change but characters stay the same. Hello 2013.)
Riderhill
The big horns
The ghula
The wall, the swamp, the parents, all of it. It hangs out with me all year long, slowly unfolding into its someday final form. This year I have decided not to write at all, actually, for Nanowrimo, but instead to draw. Concise, distilled, essence of each scene pictures. If a picture is worth a thousand words, I figure counting each picture as 1667 words is close enough. So 30 days, 30 pictures, here I come.
Just a reminder to self and others: There are no Nanowrimo police. No one is going to chase me down because I did not "write" for Nanowrimo, right? (Breathing into a paper bag) It's an illustrated novel, with no words, because it comes to me in pictures. This.is.okay. OCD rule follower - back seat. Time to let freedom ring.
My story. It's my story...
(Running off to check)
This is my 4th year entering.
Tea.
Aze.
Sun.
A boy who I have no idea what his name is. Oh yeah, why. Why? Like Why. His name is Why? Yup. (Just because it makes me laugh. Every time.)
The Changeril (see, the titles change but characters stay the same. Hello 2013.)
Riderhill
The big horns
The ghula
The wall, the swamp, the parents, all of it. It hangs out with me all year long, slowly unfolding into its someday final form. This year I have decided not to write at all, actually, for Nanowrimo, but instead to draw. Concise, distilled, essence of each scene pictures. If a picture is worth a thousand words, I figure counting each picture as 1667 words is close enough. So 30 days, 30 pictures, here I come.
Just a reminder to self and others: There are no Nanowrimo police. No one is going to chase me down because I did not "write" for Nanowrimo, right? (Breathing into a paper bag) It's an illustrated novel, with no words, because it comes to me in pictures. This.is.okay. OCD rule follower - back seat. Time to let freedom ring.
My story. It's my story...
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
More Interview Questions
Another imagination of a future interview... I find them oddly helpful and inspiring when I'm lacking the energy to continue.
Are you going to write another book?
Not if it's the same. I'm like Why, one experience, fully enjoyed, is enough.
Where did you get the inspiration for your characters?
I put pieces of myself into all of them.
In real life, my hope is to get from first draft to being accepted by a publisher this year.
First draft done by June.
Peer reviewed over the summer.
Sending out manuscript from September to December.
Question I want to ask reviewers:
Is there anything that you wish had happened but didn't?
Like, I wish that in the Hunger Games series, the winners who were forced to go back into the Hunger Games arena had banded together and refused to fight each other, having learned and matured from their experiences. Then the conflict in the movie would have come from the government trying to eliminate them in the clock while they worked together to survive.
Are you going to write another book?
Not if it's the same. I'm like Why, one experience, fully enjoyed, is enough.
Where did you get the inspiration for your characters?
I put pieces of myself into all of them.
In real life, my hope is to get from first draft to being accepted by a publisher this year.
First draft done by June.
Peer reviewed over the summer.
Sending out manuscript from September to December.
Question I want to ask reviewers:
Is there anything that you wish had happened but didn't?
Like, I wish that in the Hunger Games series, the winners who were forced to go back into the Hunger Games arena had banded together and refused to fight each other, having learned and matured from their experiences. Then the conflict in the movie would have come from the government trying to eliminate them in the clock while they worked together to survive.
Tuesday, January 30, 2018
That Thing You Can't Not Do
Your purpose lies somewhere that way.
I've been reading all these devotionals about finding your purpose and how to tell what it is and God's gifts and that there is a greater story, etc. Ultimately, they just left me more insecure and feeling worse about myself. I don't know what my purpose is. My just turned 5 year old daughter, for the last few months, has been asking me over and over, "Who are you?" which is an oddly timely question since I have never talked with her about my existential angst. She asked me again as I write this. Ha!
What is that Thing that you can't not do? The answer for me is writing. It's almost like I haven't lived it until I write about it. My dad's recent cancer diagnosis. My search for a home. These things drive me back again and again to words. Words to describe, to wrestle with, to make me feel at home again in my life.
I was worried if I moved or changed anything in my life that I would stop writing, as if I was locked into my current life until I finish my book, that if I moved, at all, I might never write again, never get back to it, never pick up the threads.
But that's not true. The words build up inside me until I have to let them out, scribbling on paper or my phone or email or a napkin or my hand, whatever surface I can find that works with a pen. I feel most alive when I write. So now I trust that I will write anywhere, anytime, move or no move That book is getting done, Lord willing, come what may.
I've been reading all these devotionals about finding your purpose and how to tell what it is and God's gifts and that there is a greater story, etc. Ultimately, they just left me more insecure and feeling worse about myself. I don't know what my purpose is. My just turned 5 year old daughter, for the last few months, has been asking me over and over, "Who are you?" which is an oddly timely question since I have never talked with her about my existential angst. She asked me again as I write this. Ha!
What is that Thing that you can't not do? The answer for me is writing. It's almost like I haven't lived it until I write about it. My dad's recent cancer diagnosis. My search for a home. These things drive me back again and again to words. Words to describe, to wrestle with, to make me feel at home again in my life.
I was worried if I moved or changed anything in my life that I would stop writing, as if I was locked into my current life until I finish my book, that if I moved, at all, I might never write again, never get back to it, never pick up the threads.
But that's not true. The words build up inside me until I have to let them out, scribbling on paper or my phone or email or a napkin or my hand, whatever surface I can find that works with a pen. I feel most alive when I write. So now I trust that I will write anywhere, anytime, move or no move That book is getting done, Lord willing, come what may.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)