Countdown to Nanowrimo! October 31, 2007

Yes, it’s that time of year again. So flex those fingers, crack those knuckles, sit your butt down, and get ready to type type type!

For those of you who don’t know, Nanowrimo is a challenge to write a novel of 50,000 words in the month of November. No, it doesn’t actually have to be a novel, from start to finish. Write 50,000 words of a coherent storyline–that should be enough. It’s exhillirating, frustrating, teeth-gnashingly fun! I’ve done it, and finished, twice now, in 2002 and 2006. And, of course, it’s at the Nanowrimo after party where I met Ryan.

So, up until this moment, I had no idea what my story was going to be. I’m not a natural outliner. Nevertheless, in previous years I’ve started with _something_–an image, an idea, a theme, a character. This time, I had nothing, until a few minutes ago, when a scene came to me. I feel much better now. Just a few more hours now to stew over image and come up with a plot…

No words October 25, 2007

I just returned from a fantastic vacation. A honeymoon, actually. Three glorious weeks in France.

I can’t complain. The only thing is, now that I sit down to write, I find  I have no words. I’ve made several false starts, forced myself to get”black on white.” I rather feel like a car sputtering to start.

I read somewhere that it takes a week, at least, to pick up creative steam. I suppose I’ll just have to be patient, and keep at it, until things start picking up for me again. Still, it’s disconcerting. I think this is the longest time I’ve taken without writing for the last two years or so. Even while planning for my wedding, I was writing fiction up until the day before the event.  I’m hoping it will give me some perspective, to not have written for so long. One thing’s certain; I sure did miss writing.

All written out? October 1, 2007

Today I feel a little emptied out, as if I’ve over extended myself. It’s odd, I didn’t really write more than usual, but I feel carved out. There are few words left rattling around inside, and little desire to write. Sometimes, like tonight, it just feels a little fruitless. My candle is just one more light among thousands, and always with the struggle to be fresher, specific, clear.