Drumroll....

Thirty days into the challenge and two days after officially winning NaNoWriMo...

And with an official NaNoWriMo word count of 53,207...

I HAVE FINISHED MY STORY!!!

Do You Nano?

Okay, deep breath, I'm plunging in. Without enough time to talk myself out of it, I have decided I'm going to participate in NaNoWriMo 2012. It's time for some writerly abandon, forget the rules, which I tend to be a stickler for (well, if someone tells me to do something in this way, I'll do my best to match it. I might experiment if specifically given permission to do so. Otherwise....), and let my whimsies and fantasies take flight on paper. Or computer. ... Eh?

Yes, I know that was weird.

Oh well, forget the "rules", right? NaNoWriMo isn't supposed to be the prettiest thing I ever write. It's just supposed to get done.

I've written two novels before. Both in first draft form, one took about a year, the second made it somewhere in probably five months (...hey, I just realized, that's progress!). Now for the one month challenge. This is going to be awesome. And just like major exercise after not using those muscles much for a long time, I'm going to be oh so sore.

But I kinda like being sore. As long as I'm sure I'll recover. You know why? Because it means I'm getting stronger, and yes, I can meet the challenge.

Now is warmup time. Mentally and emotionally mostly, probably. Gotta get ready and head off the stereotypical writer's block and depression before they have a chance to hit.

Because I can do this.

I plan to be a winner.

I Will Have It

Not that long ago I would walk into my room and a wordless feeling of despair would settle over me. This happened so often and for so long that eventually I distanced myself from the despair just to get from one side to the other, usually settling on my bed, my nest, to go to sleep or to get online and ignore the soul-sucking piles of junk and paper that littered everything.

But in the last week and especially the last couple of days I walk into my room and a triumphantly joyous thought voices itself: I will have it.

I will have my room back. I will have a clean, safe, soothing, environment. I will have things nicely decorated. I will have my pretty daybed up in place of my current bed (nothing wrong with it, honestly, but it doesn't provide the function that I want, and also, it's not mine).

Remember how it was such a big deal to have my reading nook clean and always ready? The rocking chair, the lamp, the bookshelf where I can keep library books. All the wonderful coziness tied to that. And I met my deadline, and I had put the work in it, and it was mine, all mine. (I know I still owe you pictures, but it's not tidy right now.) Well, now I'm doing that (without a strict deadline) for the entirety of my room. For too long I've let my possessions own me; I'm a self-proclaimed border hoarder. (sigh)

I've been cleaning, mostly sorting and shuffling things and throwing out notebooks and other paper from college classes. I've been opening up floor space (let me tell you, hope and refreshment are found in an empty floor!), finding things I'd forgotten but want to keep, uncovering my instruments (with renewed vigor to learn and practice), sorting my crafting supplies. Before that I was going through my closet, jewelry, and makeup. I still have some ground to (un)cover, but I've made noticeable progress. And any time I stop to think for one second about what I'm trying to accomplish, and basically every time I enter my room, I am encouraged.

I expect I'll always fight the tendency to keep everything (yes, everything, including, to my embarrassment, price tags from clothes bought an undetermined amount of time ago). But I intend to fight it from now on. I've picked a battle worth the effort, and I'm going to win this war.

 
I'm shaping my life into what I want it to be. And it starts here, with my room.

Failure...or Plot Suspense?

It's not hard for a writer to feel like a failure. If he's not writing, then he's obviously not doing what he's supposed to. If he is writing so much that other responsibilities slide by or he doesn't live in the realm of reality between writing sessions, then he's obsessed and clearly off in the head.


Now, obviously there is a middle ground, but finding that balance between writing and living is remarkably tricky.

I, for one, frequently feel like a failure when it comes to writing. I fall in the first category. I spend so much time taking care of people and trying to maintain a semblance of sanity and cleanliness against a losing battle, that when I have time to write or edit...I sleep in. Maybe I'll pick up a book, one that's already been written and published by someone else, not my own. Oh, no. That takes too much emotional commitment and too much energy.

But I work, too. I co-teach and I tutor, and I love my jobs. Twice a week I get to talk about the workings of story and writing to the next generation, and I get paid for it! It's quite the pick-me-up, and I get excited to work on my stories. But, and there's always a but, when I pack up from the "office" I get sidetracked, distracted, and sometimes guilt-tripped into taking care of something that's more important or urgent (like, you know, people are very important).

So, I'm a caregiver more than a writer right now. Not exactly a "success story" of a writer, but still, I can't stop being a writer. It's part of my core (like phoenix tail, not a canary feather or a frog tongue, was in the core of Harry's wand). That means, that I will always come back to writing. Like this blog post right now. I have to go run some errands (after all, I need sweet tea), but I had a thought, and I needed to write it down.

So, what is one to do? While I can't speak from experience about a writer who does nothing but write, I can speak as one who hardly writes. When I'm not writing, when I'm living in the fantastical realm of reality, I'm gaining experience in the world and understanding of the aspects of it. I'm learning about myself and others (in short, people), and I'm learning about how creation works, and even more about Who created it.

And, later, that will be useful to writing and editing stories.

So, even though I'm not writing much, and I don't feel like a success as a writer right now...

Nothing is wasted. It just adds suspense and anticipation.

Just like in a polished work of fiction.

New Step in the Adventure

Should I tell you I'm excited or should I show you? The writer in me says, "Show."

I'm gearing up to embark on another step in the adventures of life and storydom. (I know that's not a real word.) I've wanted to teach and encourage other, particularly younger, writers since before I graduated. Now I'm given the opportunity to do just that.

I was asked to tutor a girl I know and have previously talked with about her story. We'll be using a program called One Year Adventure Novel next school year. All the materials have been provided, I just have to check them out, see what my soon to be pupil has come up with for her story, and set up the meeting times. For the second time, I get to teach during a school year (and for the first time, I will not also be taking classes...maybe). And I get to teach and build someone up in my area of study: story!

I've written novels before, so I know what the process is like, and hopefully I can now use that for my budding writer's benefit. I will be doing exactly what I hoped to do with my degree. In addition to writing and editing my work, I get to tutor, teach, and encourage.

I couldn't have planned it better myself. I wouldn't have known where to start. Owl City was right; dreams don't turn to dust.

Gotta work for my dreams.

I take from Disney's "The Princess and the Frog", other stories, and from life.  You gotta work for your dreams.  I've gotta work for mine.

If life were handed to you on a silver platter, would that be any fun?  Well, okay, yes it would.  Sort of.  Work isn't a bad thing.  Adam and Eve worked before they sinned when the world was without blemish, so I think it's safe to understand that work, of itself, is not a bad thing.  And dedicated work pays off.  The great people of history are renowned because they didn't quit, and they didn't sluff off the tasks at hand.  They worked for their goals and dreams, and it paid off.

I need to remember this.  I forget and tend to think, "It's my day off.  I should study or outline a story, but it's my 'day off.'  I don't want to work today."  But you know what?  Nothing gets accomplished that way.  I dream of getting paid to write, but a dream without work behind it is a daydream—thin, fleeting, and far from satisfying.

I'm not knocking rest and taking time to smell the roses.  Actually, I'm all about rest.  I love rest; it's a great pastime.  But remembering that work is a good thing and that it leads to better things, well, it's something I need to do a little more often.  Perhaps remembering that working for something, toward a goal, does actually lead to better things is the hardest part for me.

Every protagonist in a story works for their goal (all characters should).  Did you ever wonder why characters not only have to have a dream or a goal but must work to achieve it?  Why it's not going to be handed to them?  Because our goals are not going to be handed to us.

I need to remember that my goals are achievable, and that should give me heart.  I like stories that show just how hard a character had to work for the goal, because when it's achieved, I am inspired.  I am motivated.

So, do this: Realize that fiction is what it is and has the plot elements that it does for a reason.  It's a reflection of the challenges and the grandness of the life we live.  Dream bigger than fiction, because life is bigger than fiction, and work for your dreams.

I'ma gonna get up now and get to it.  I daydream big.  Now it's time to make it real.


P.S. - If you say, hear, or think the word "life" enough times, it starts to sound really funny.  Life!