EW

Ramblings on writing, crafting and life.

Ok…so I found this cool, if slightly nutso thing. National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo , as it’s affectionately termed, occurs in the month of November. It’s been going on for years now, and somehow, I’d missed even a hint of it till last year. I found out too late to participate last year. But this year, I’m thinking why not?!?

Well really, if I’m honest, there’s an entire host of “why nots” I’m just choosing to be illogical and think that I might be able to crank out that YA (or some of it) when under an enforced, if fun deadline. Top that off and the last day lands on my Birthday. What a present to give myself, eh? A nearly completed second novel. Best self gift ever!

Ok…ok…so book one isn’t clean yet. I’m going to bust ass to try and have it done before the 1st. And if it’s not, well then…I work on both. Again….Why not?!?

So…Anyone out there want to join me? Anyone care to take up the crazy person gauntlet of attempting 50,000 completed words in 30 days??? C’mon! I could use compatriots in word deluge and hyper-caffeination!

This editing hat doesn’t fit terribly well. It’s a bit tight around the brim, and scratches behind the left ear. I’ve been assured it will fit better with wear. Stretch itself and mold to my skull, till I am unaware of its presence. Here’s hoping. I’m through Chapter 6. Still plugging. I’ve also managed to plot out the next four books of the series thematically. Book two has enough of a sketch to get to writing the outline as soon as one is out the door. Then there’s the YA series. Book one’s outline is midway. And it’s begging to be fleshed out and made real. Everything hinges on getting this cleaned up and fixed. So nothing for it but to keep pushing through, clinging to the assumption that this will get easier with practice.

In other, more crafty news… My stash, sadly, still resides in boxes in Florida. But I found a local yarn shop in Anacortes. Ana Cross Stitch. Lovely place. Friendly, helpful staff and a very pettable selection of yarns. M was sweet enough to let me drag him and the short people in there last weekend. I spent a good half hour wandering around drooling. Then finally settled on two skeins of Workhorse fave, Cascade 220. One in dark brown on in oatmeal. I’ve cast on a ribbed watch cap for M, going Dark, light dark wide stripes as he wanted “a halo” hat. Heh.

He might well deserve something of the sort since he’s gotten behind me on my yarn and fiber dyeing. I’m currently putting together a little business plan type thing. Costs etc. So we can look at me taking over part of the garage for a yarn dyeing business! I know…swoon!  More to come as the idea develops.

Well, there has been editing progress! Hooray progress!

Got chapters 1-3 cleaned, and am halfway to having 4 under my belt.

Fixed the dreaded Latin that was bollocks due not least to a bad online translator. It is now not only grammatically correct (crosses fingers and toes), but is also bearing it’s companion statement in English…which, yes, I forgot to write down the first go round. The mind boggles.

So now it’s the rest of 4 through 21, then 25 and BAM! Done! And off to my very patient and kind volunteer readers. Yes. You people whom I love and adore, and who know who you are and all that.

Next check on the list.  Sleep.  And start afresh tomorrow.

That’s pretty much the sentiment every day I wake now.  Discounting this morning as I hardly slept at all thanks to one restless short person. But generally speaking, I’m in love with this place, this house, the roses around the house that I keep discovering. My sudden and obsessive urge to garden (yes…I’ve already planted the flower seedlings and have the veggies happily sprouting away). The weather shift was impressive. Going from 90 degree days to 60 degree ones has made all the crew happier campers.

Now that we’ve somewhat settled, I’ve been digging back into book one. Apparently, people are ready to read this damned thing for me! Who knew??? Heh. You lovely people know who you are …and it’s coming soon. Promise. Mostly because I’m ready to be done. Book two’s notes have started streaming..and holy hell I can’t wait to start writing that sucker. So really, It’s incredibly good motivation.

The only thing I can even think to kvetch about …I packed all my yarn…and my needles…and my WIP’s. ALLLLLLLL of it! What in the heck was I thinking. I moved to absolutely perfect knitting weather. And I’ve got squat to do. Oh well. Boxes are streaming in slowly but surely. The stash will arrive soon, and I figure it will be like Christmas as I’ve forgotten half of what’s in there. (and no for you Ravelry.com folks) I’ve been avoiding pining over my stash on the site. It’s too sad.

We have employment success!!

Yes, you read right. M has been successful in the westward-ho! job search. He’ll be working in Anacortes, and we’ll be looking in that area, or Skagit valley for a place to hang our hats.  I’m so happy to be past the “waiting intentionally” portion of the program. I really suck without answers, timelines, or at least some kind of clue. Nebulous – someday, kinds of time tables mess with my equilibrium.

I’ve come to several realizations while he’s been away. Paramount being, single parents deserve medals. Big ones. Shiny, brilliant, expensive damned medals. Who knew taking one person out of an equation would create so much….havoc? You did? Well hush it. I didn’t. I’ve not edited a single page since he’s been gone. Nor written a word. I start each day with good intentions of getting to it. By the time I’ve got them all abed, I’m the mental equal to a bowl of oatmeal. Sad, tired, day-old oatmeal, a wee bit congealed and hard about the edges.

Ahh well….this too shall pass. On to step one of the “40 step plan” as M has dubbed it.  That’s allright. Steps I can do.

Apparently I had the idea that editing this book would be easier than writing it. I am not sure where I got this idea. But it has reared its ugly head as I start fumble my way through the first changes.  And like a scene from one of those submarine war movies, my internal lighting has gone ominously red and the strident gonging of an alarm resounds.  Error! Error!

I find myself recalling the days of “blank page freeze” and “Gakk! Its a new chapter! block” longingly. I cant be sure how much of this is a function of fact. Is editing a piece youve written REALLY more difficult than writing it in the first place? Or complete delusion; Part of me believes that I am always wishing I was doing whatever Im NOT supposed to be doing. Grass…greener… you get the picture. Either way I need to get some kind of flow going lest the editing takes another 6 damned years.

Im sure that all the stress doesnt help. M is leaving Tuesday. At least that is the plan at this point. Too many things to dither and fret over.  Will the kids be able to handle his absence, or will they dissolve into puddle of misbehavior and angst? Will he find work before our funds run out? Will he find a place that we can all be comfortably and affordably (animal included)? Will I sleep – at all – while he is away?  Will I finish the editing, and if I do will anyone want to read, much less buy this thing? Yada yada yada??? Sounds like an awful lot of whining, doesnt it?

Thank you, dear reader, for indulging my Blahs. If I could figure out how to take the energy I spend in worry and whining, I could likely write another book by March.

Certainly, I will settle for getting this book out to my kindly volunteer readers before they forget they offered.

At 3:28PM Eastern time, in the cafe at the local Borders Books, I finished my book. Yes, you read that right. The book is finished. Well, I will clarify by saying the rough draft is complete. I’ll pause a moment to let those of you who’ve been following to recover from the shock. I know, right?

I sat a moment, in complete shock. I literally had to go back and read the final page three times before I believed it myself. Holy crap! It’s done.

And as I drove home, refusing to call anyone, holding the news tight to my chest. I could have been hissing “Myyyyy Preeeciousssssss”, and it wouldn’t have been surprising. There were brief moments of complete euphoria, but mostly…I just kept thinking of all the work that is left. I had an internal dialogue going that went something rather like this.

“I finished the book!!!”

“Yes, but now there’s the first round of edits. Then off to readers, then another round. And you haven’t done a query or a synopsis yet.”

“Hey…let me enjoy my moment here.”

“Oh by all means….enjoy it. .”…pause for a beat…”Are you done enjoying? Because we should really think about those re-writes you need to do on the first 1/3 of the book”

“Jeez…gimme a break here. I’m basking”

“Bahh….bask when you’re published. For now, let’s think about those changes.”

“I swear. You suck the fun out of everything.”

“Now now. Don’t get grumpy. I’m just trying to help you focus.”

“Fun sucker!!”

“There is simply NO talking to you when you get like this.”

*insert sucking noises here*

“You are SUCH a child.  I give up!”

Thus I left myself in a huff.

And I remain oddly shell-shocked. Vacant almost. I’ve been pushing for this moment for years. Wondering if it would arrive. Only to find that once here, it’s oddly anti-climactic.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m excited as hell to finally get here. And the most meaningful part of this for me, is really that I showed myself I can do this. I can write a book. No more excuses. I can DO this. And it’s exciting, and terrifying. NO MORE EXCUSES. Well hell. There goes that gig. Suddenly, books two and three, and the YA series are ever so much more tangible. They are there, waiting (somewhat patiently) to be given there due. I can no longer whine at myself that this is an impossible thing. It’s possible, just difficult.

So I believe we are going to celebrate, family style, my being a writer. Because oddly enough, even though it feels surreal. I finally think I can call myself that.

Hi, I’m Liz. I’m a writer. Guess what I did today?

I wrote a book!

So while some things in life remain in upheaval, with no clear answers in sight. The book, at least, rolls along. Chapter 24 is done, leaving me with 25 and the epilogue. So close now. And, if things continue as they appear they might, I need to have the rough draft finished early this coming week. M and I need time to read the rough and gather the rest of the notes for edits. Before he leaves, that is.

He most likely will be flying out of here after next week, staying with friends in the Seattle area till he finds work and a place for us to settle. Meanwhile, the demonic horde and I will remain here in Florida.  It sucks. It means at least two months or more apart. That is a hell of a long time, longer than we have ever gone since married. Ahh well. This too shall pass. At some point I will be able to look back on the past few months and laugh at how stressed I was because of the lack of one measly little job. Errrmmm…At least I certainly hope I will find this amusing eventually.

The oddest thing. I have found that the stress of all this: Unemployment, moving-not moving, bills piling up, the kids reactions to the instability, none of it has hampered the word flow. Which is really weird. I would have thought this would be a great time for a block to crop up, but if anything, the words are flowing better. I am NOT complaining here, just making an observation. For a woman who has had blocks when the wind blew the wrong way in the past, sailing through all this drama un-blocked has been nigh on miraculous.

Maybe that is my biggest sign in all this. That my creativity is not hinged to anything outside of myself. Negatively OR positively.