NaNoWriMo For a Friend

 In 2012, I blogged this about an annual event called NaNoWriMo:

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). The name glides from the keyboard smooth as silk.  NaNoWriMo. 

One month, 50,000. words, fiction.  Write till you drop.  Generate record profits for the coffee industry. Hopefully, get something out of a month of sheer terror that can be refined into a novel.  People have written novels and gotten them published. 

Writers hanging around writers, both in cyberspace and (in various cities) physically, urging each other on, sounded great. Sounded scary. So why did I keep thinking about it? Like a throbbing tooth that you just must nudge with your tongue, NaNoWriMo worked its way into my mind. 

At first I said to myself, I'm not going to do it.  Actually it isn't the 50,000 words in 30 days thing that terrifies me.  It's the fiction thing.  I don't do fiction.  Well, I haven't done fiction since, oh, I was a 12 year old writing the timeless novel "Birdmen of Zuma" about canary men with super powers, living in - where else? - the Canary Islands.  Timeless as in "You've Never Seen it At Your Local Bookstore and You Should Thank Me Daily For That." (I even have a timeless friend and blog reader [now decreased, sadly] who remembers me pounding out that novel, day after day, after school, on her mother's typewriter.)

I thank those writers who gave me encouragement, with a special shout out to the author Jo Michaels, after I blogged about possibly doing NaNoWriMo.  I pondered and made excuses in my head.  Excuses, I do very well.  Fiction, I don't do well at all.  I even looked at the rules and it said FICTION. You know, character development and plot. I prefer to tell stories about what is or what was, in "real life".

I decided to lurk around the public parts of the NaNoWriMo website. And when I started to dig into the forums, an amazing thing happened.  I was back in the book What Color is Your Parachute, in the cocktail party exercise I blogged about last week. [10 years ago now!]

This exercise involves imagining you are in a cocktail party, where people have gathered in the corners.  Historians in one corner. Mathematicians in another.  Artists in another. Mechanics in another, and so forth.  You can hang out in any corner you want, regardless of if you have the skills or the experience, and listen to the conversations. The corner you end up wanting to be in gives you clues as to what your chosen career should involve.

While in those forums, I found my corner. I'm a writer, after all.

How can I resist forums with names like "NaNoWriMo Ate My Soul"? "The Plot Bunny Day Care Center"? and "What Your English Teacher Lied About"? These people are my kind of crazy....

Novels have power to change the world.  As someone who started out college out majoring in history, I should know that. "

I did NaNoWriMo several times.  I completed it all those times except for the last time (2016).  In 2016 I couldn't find the heart in me to go on.  I was writing a dystopian novel (one of my preferred reading genres) and lost my heart for it along the way.

I don't intend to do NaNoWriMo this year, either.  I feel like I don't have much to say. No novel bursting out of me to write.

So why am I writing this post?  Because a Facebook friend and fellow blogger is planning to do NaNoWriMo for the first time. This woman has a lot (and I do mean a lot) going on in her life.  One of these things is supporting the library in Boundary County, Idaho, where she lives.  I blogged about that library situation some months ago. 

A number of townspeople sat on the library lawn and read books that others have, or are threatening, to ban. She was one of them.  She loves to read. 

My Facebook friend reads a lot.  She writes a blog.  She works full time in a difficult job that is so badly needed.  I want to encourage her into success with NaNoWriMo.  Writing is a hard thing.  But maybe she will write that novel.

That novel that may change the world.

Have you ever done NaNoWriMo?  If so, could you leave some words of encouragement in the comments for my Facebook friend?

Who's Afraid of NaNoWriMo?

Every November is haunted with the ghosts of "would have, should have, could have." I hate November.

Triple Cities, New York

True, at the end of October, it is Halloween in the United States.  Everything is decorated, including our local farmers market, but those decorations remind us of our own mortality.  The more ghoulish ones, anyway.


November is also a time to face the demons of the writer.  Should I join NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writer's Month) once again?  And, if I do, will I ever face the ghosts of my three previous NaNoWriMo manuscripts and try to edit them into some kind of manuscript worthy to bring into the world of the living?  Am I good enough?  Is my writing adequate?  Do I really have something of worth to tell the world?

Am I afraid of failure?  Am I afraid of not finishing the course - 50,000 words worth of free writing in 30 days?  It isn't easy but I've done it three times.  It's the "after" that is just as scary.  Doing something with that manuscript.  Taking that 50,000 words of free writing and carving and shaping it into something worthy of showing the world.

My demons ask "Are you afraid of success?"  Maybe.  So I gather my courage up and declare to you, my readers.

There's a book I've been thinking of writing.  It isn't fiction, and it isn't getting written.

Now's my chance to start.  Any number of words is better than zero number of words.

Here are the official rules of NaNoWriMo (I hope they don't mind copying and pasting):

• Write a 50,000-word (or longer!) novel, between November 1 and November 30.
• Only count words written during November. None of your own previously written prose can be included in your NaNoWriMo draft (though outlines, character sketches, and research are all fine, as are citations from other people's works).
• Write a novel. We define a novel as a lengthy work of fiction. If you consider the book you're writing a novel, we consider it a novel too!
• Be the sole author of your novel. Apart from those citations mentioned two bullet-points up.
• Write more than one word repeated 50,000 times.

And if you break rules, which I have done already (writing non-fiction), you are called a rebel, and you are welcome.  What I do is rebel.  I do not cheat.  My words are my words, they are written only in November, and I stand by my word counts.

So, I look my demons in their blazing red eyes.  I will do NaNoWriMo this November.  Maybe a non fiction book in the wrapper of a fiction book.  That fiction book?  The coming of age story of a teenaged girl in the New York City of 2076, starting over with an idea I had two years ago, but making major changes. The non fiction content?  It's a secret.  But I've love you to join me.

My name on NaNoWriMo is "RamblinWritr".

Do you plan to try NaNoWriMo this year?

Day 30 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Red Sky at Night

Today, on day 12 of NaBloPoMo, I face a quieter than normal internet, as many writers compete with themselves during National Novel Writing Month to write 50,000 words in 30 days.

This year, for the first time in four years, I am not one of them.  I decided I was not going to stress myself out with my various responsibilities, especially as I have never touched any of those three NaNoWriMo manuscripts.

Instead, I am out taking pictures of sunsets.  We've had warmer than normal weather and my iPhone 4s captured much of the beauty of the sky. 

There is a saying "Red sky at night, sailors delight."  You decide.

These pictures were all taken in the past week, in my neighborhood near Johnson City, New York. I love the streaks of color in this one.

How about the sun setting over a pile of leaves?

And finally, one more "sky on fire".

The sunsets this month have been so incredible. So I will leave you one more - silhouettes.

Maybe next year, I'll actually touch one of my manuscripts. This year, I'm enjoying the beauty of nature.

Are you participating in NaNoWriMo this year?

Throwback Thursday - Fright and NaNoWriMo

It is the hour of decision.

Should I participate in an annual writing competition called NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writer's Month) this year?

I won't draw out the suspense.

This year, I am going to sit NaNoWriMo out, although my spouse is telling me that perhaps I should participate. 


Rather, for the first time in several months, I am going to join a blogging challenge - the similarly named NaBloPoMo.  In that way, I can continue the daily blogging I enjoy doing (usually) through, at least, November.

No pressure, no word count, no problem!

For my Throwback Thursday, this post from October 31, 2013 is perfect - it combines Halloween decorations with my then-preparations for my second NaNoWriMo.  The fright I was experiencing is the fright all writers experience at one time or another.

Fright and NaNoWriMo

Today it's Halloween.   A time for decorating, for trick or treating, for pretending you are things you aren't. And to prepare for a writing marathon.

Halloween decorations have become so popular in the United States these last few years, that you find them almost everywhere.

In Northwest Arkansas, for example, when I visited in August, some decorations were already up. (this was in a Wal Mart parking lot.) I loved the hay bale jack o'lantern.

I found another hay bale jack o'lantern at a local Southern Tier of New York dairy farm.

Here in upstate New York, bushes are covered in fake spider webs. Pumpkins rest on porches.  Inflatable witches rest in some front yards.

In a downtown Binghamton apartment, a space under a window has been transformed into a graveyard.

On the West Side of Binghamton, another front yard graveyard.

This is "fake" death and fright, though.  Sometimes, the scary truth is just a few hundred feet away.

In downtown Binghamton we have a 9/11 monument, complete with a girder from the former World Trade Center.  Knowing that there are groups who would love nothing better than to inflict this kind of pain on the world (and having just done so, in Kenya, not too long ago) is truly scary.

And, there is one more type of fright.  The fright of the writer facing a blank computer screen.

Tomorrow I start my participation in NaNoWriMo. This requires me to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Last year was my first time, but this year I am actually a bit scared.  Will I be able to write 50,000 words devoted to a memoir?  I've already written some 20,000 words of memory in two previous Camp NaNoWriMos.  But this is the big time.  My reputation is at stake. I have fans rooting for me! I have writing buddies!

Gulp. Nothing Halloween can scare up for fake fright can compare with this.

Will I Take the Writing Pledge?

On Sunday, an annual competition called NaNoWriMo begins.  This is a competition against yourself - writers are challenged to write 50,000 words during the month of November.  The aim is to write, not to edit, not to perfect.

I've participated three times - in 2012, 2013 and 2014.  I do not know if I will try to participate this year.  On the one hand, my time is limited.  On the other hand a lot of people's time is limited.

If I write, I have more words written than if I don't write. 

If you look below, you will see the pledge NaNoWriMo asks us to take this year.  The part about the mockery if you don't succeed rubs me (to use a cliche) the wrong way.  I am way past winning or losing - until I realize I am not.  I'm sure it's meant to be light hearted, but right now, it is hitting a nerve.  A deep nerve.  Because I haven't won by winning three times.

I've been a "rebel" in the past, writing non fiction (a memoir) one year.  Last year, I wrote what started as a dystopian novel of Brooklyn in the 2060's, and that manuscript still, sometimes, calls to me, asking me to revisit and edit.

Believe it or not, my long suffering spouse doesn't mind if I try it again, despite obligations that take up an increasing amount of time.

But will I do it?  

I have never brought out any of the other manuscripts to edit and try to polish up, either.   NaNoWriMo, for me, would just be a rerun, and not an opportunity for growth.  If I want to grow as a writer, I must grow past untouched manuscripts on a laptop.

I will announce my decision on Thursday. 

In the meantime, I will leave you with the pledge participants are supposed to take this year.

"I hereby pledge my intent to write a 50,000-word novel in one month’s time.

By invoking an absurd, month-long deadline on such an enormous undertaking, I understand that notions of “craft,” “brilliance,” and “competency” are

to be chucked right out the window, where they will remain, ignored, until

they are retrieved for the editing process. I understand that I am a talented

person, capable of heroic acts of creativity, and I will give myself enough time

over the course of the next month to allow my innate gifts to come to the surface, unmolested by self-doubt, self-criticism, and other acts of self-bullying.

During the month ahead, I realize I will produce clunky dialogue, clichéd characters, and deeply flawed plots. I agree that all of these things will

be left in my rough draft, to be corrected and/or excised at a later point. I

understand my right to withhold my manuscript from all readers until I deem

it completed. I also acknowledge my right as author to substantially inflate

both the quality of the rough draft and the rigors of the writing process should

such inflation prove useful in garnering me respect and attention, or freedom

from participation in onerous household chores.

I acknowledge that the month-long, 50,000-word deadline I set for

myself is absolute and unchangeable, and that any failure to meet the deadline, or any effort on my part to move the deadline once the adventure has

begun, will invite well-deserved mockery from friends and family. I also acknowledge that, upon successful completion of the stated noveling objective, I am entitled to a period of gleeful celebration and revelry, the duration

and intensity of which may preclude me from participating fully in workplace activities for days, if not weeks, afterward."

Are you going to take the pledge?  Do you plan to participate in NaNoWriMo?

NaNoWriMo Lookback

I did it again.

I "won" NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), a competition for people who enjoy pain, coffee, and suffering. No, it really isn't a competition unless you count writing against a clock as a competition.  NaNoWriMo requires you to write 50,000 words in 30 days.  If you think that is easy, just try it.

There have been a number of books published that had first drafts created during NaNoWriMo, including a handful of best sellers.

Perhaps my manuscript, Gravesend, will be one of them.  One day.

This year, I came from behind in the last four or so days, writing almost every spare moment.  However, up to now, my manuscripts never went beyond the NaNoWriMo frenzy stage.

This year may be different.

A 17 year old girl by the name of Alex (for Alexander), living in a Brooklyn of the mid 21st century, took command of my book. She turned it into something I did not expect. Instead of the Young Adult dystopian novel I had started out with, it turned into a story of pain and suffering, but also a story of hope.  Also, I don't know what genre it is, but it is no longer Young Adult.


The beauty of NaNoWriMo is that you don't edit.  You just write and write and write.  You have this quota, the 50,000 words, to meet.  You don't have time to look over your shoulder.

I wrote just over 50,000 words.  

Now, the true work begins - in January, when I bring the manuscript back out, and take a careful look at it.  I have no training whatsoever in fiction writing, so this should be interesting.

How do I make my reader want to progress past the first page?  How do I draw him or her into turning each page, hungry for more?  How do I build the world of mid 21st century Brooklyn in a way that is is logical and believable?  And, what do I really want to say?  What is my message?

Or, I should say, what is Alex's message?

It's taken three years to get this far.

Now it's time to take a deep breath. Alex is waiting for me on the other side of 2014, and she won't let me stuff her back into my computer.

Alex, I'll try not to let you down.

The Pears are Again Laughing at Me

Today is the sixth day of November, and the sixth day of a writing self-competition called NaNoWriMo. 50,000 words in 30 days is the goal, and we are getting to the long haul part.  The part of frozen creativity, writers block, panic and worse.

I am going to devote today to NaNoWriMo and a research project I hope to blog about later this month.

I have a feeling that, today, pears - and everything else - are laughing at me, as I drip sweat and blood, and wonder what I have gotten myself into - for the third year in a row.

And maybe, if I have time, I'll even publish another Apple Crisp recipe next week - one with Asian pears and an unusual apple called the Thornberry.  Here's a sneak preview:

Yes, that's a real mixture of raw apples and pears (the pears are the white slices).  I left some of the apple skin on so you can see the true beauty of the Thornberry (and because I had cut my finger and wasn't that inclined to do a complete peeling job).


Doing NaNoWriMo? I would love to be your writing buddy - My "pen" name is ramblinwritr.

And here's a post on pears - and writing, from November of 2012, for your enjoyment.

Sustainable Saturday - The Pears are Laughing at You

 I hope an author I admire greatly, Scott Westerfeld, won't mind me using a point he made in a "pep talk" to NaNoWriMo participants, as the topic of today's post.

Years ago, when my spouse and I moved to rural Arkansas to pursue the "simple life", we found out that the "simple life" did not exist.  Life is a lot more complex than any of us can dream of.

We found out that (back in the 1980's anyway), the city life was the simple life.  You didn't have to make a whole lot of decisions.  In the rural "simple life", on the other hand, there was a decision wherever you turned.

We were trying to be what was called "ecological" in those days (I think the closest term today would be "green")  and that made decisions even more difficult.

One example:  how to heat? In the city life your landlord provided the heat.  In the countryside you had to choose rhe fuel of choice:  Wood? Propane? Electric?  Wood was renewable but if you burned wood in a homemade wood stove made from a 55 gallon drum, it was very polluting.  Hmmm, hadn't thought of that....Solar panels? Nice thought, but they were terribly expensive, way beyond our budget.

 City life - you bought a refrigerator and plugged it in.  Country life - was a refrigerator "ecological?" Should we own one, and if so: would we use electric or propane? What were the advantages and disadvantages of each?

Food:  local but not organic?  Shipped in but organic?

(I've blogged about a similar choice many of us make today when we shop: local small merchant but merchandise made in China? Or big box store selling goods made in the U.S.A.?)

Each element of our lives needed a decision, and we quickly learned that what we thought was the most polluting choice was sometimes, overall, the best choice.  In other words, there were no simple choices, and we had to make the best choice for us, even if it wasn't "politically correct".

What Scott Westerfeld told us in yesterday's pep talk is a lesson we all should learn, not just people aspiring to be authors of a novel.  "Here's a funny thing about human beings: we always think too simply. The universe is always bigger, messier, and more complicated than we expect it to be."

As for the title of today's post, it is a paraphrase of something else Scott Westerfeld said, pointing out that even something as simple as a pear isn't simple at all - there are over 3,000. varieties of pears.

Broaden your horizons.  Learn as much as you can about this world.  Wisdom isn't always in the places you expect it to be.  I'm guilty of being close-minded sometimes, and I can probably say, truthfully, that even the most broad minded of us are.

The "sustainable" life involves thoughtfully considering the options and making a good decision that is right for you at that one point of time.

List all your options.  Think of all the possibilities.  When you exhaust your list, try to think of a few more.  If you can't come up with too many, then you may find that

"THE PEARS ARE LAUGHING AT YOU, MY FRIEND."

Thank you, Scott.  As far as my writing I will try to remember that  "Sometimes getting to the end of a novel simply takes remembering that the world is more complicated than we know, and then sticking some of those complications into the story."

I sure don't want those pears laughing at me.

The Hydrangea and the Bee

It's the waning days of fall here in upstate New York.  But don't tell this bee.  She (see right side of photo) was buzzing around this hydrangea Tuesday as I tried to take its picture.  It's almost doomsday for Ms. Bee, but she keeps on buzzing and was enjoying what might be the warmest day of the rest of the year. (Just don't tell her the killing frost is just around the corner.)

Another hydrangea nearby, in the garden of the Broome County Library in downtown Binghamton, New York, was showing the colors of fall.  Don't you love those stripes?

As unbelievable as it is for plants to be blooming on October 27, even more unbelievable is the fact that November begins on Saturday.

And, with November begins NaNoWriMo, a 30 day non stop writing journey. It's 30 days of uninhibited writing, no editing.

No plot? No problem.  No idea where your story is going? No problem. No muse? No problem.

NaNoWriMo is a lot of sweat, coffee, and more sweat and coffee.  The forums are full of discussion and strange people. I'll be in good company, as I am strange, too. There will be pep talks by famous writers.  And at the end, I'll have a manuscript I didn't have on November 1, to do whatever I want with.

During NaNoWriMo, there's a lot of wondering about personal sanity.  There's my long suffering spouse, sadly shaking his head as his spouse disappears into writing land.

This is my third NaNoWriMo, and until last night, I didn't think I was going to do it.  I have other manuscripts on my computer-never revisited, never edited, never again seeing the light of my laptop screen.

My muse? Never had one.  She's probably lying unconscious somewhere, OD'd on chocolate.

So this year, I am going to be like the Binghamton bee.  I am not going to question why there is a flower to feed off of on October 27.  I will take what I am given.  If I have time to write, I will.  If I don't, I won't.  If something happens in my life, it will become part of my book.

I can always edit the rants out later.

And, with the sweet pollen of what is left, I will make honey.

That's the plan, anyway.

Are you doing NaNoWriMo?  I'd love some company.  My "pen" name is RamblinWritr.  If you ask to be my buddy, I'll be yours.

Camp NaNoWriMo April Update

This April, I was supposed to go to camp.

I was supposed to go to virtual camp, a virtual camp for writers.  It's called Camp NaNoWriMo, and I was supposed to write 10,000 words between April 1 and April 30, joined by other writers.  I could write whatever I wanted and I didn't have to show anyone my work.

Sounded nice, right? I would go to the nightly virtual campfires and hang out with my fellow writers.

I was going to try my hand at fiction, something that really isn't "me", and write a YA (Young Adult) piece based on a dream I had many years ago, growing up in New York City.  I enjoy dystopian YA literature, and even as a teenager, my dreams were dystopian.  It didn't hurt that I grew up in a city housing project in a part of the city that was going downhill fast as I entered my later teen years.

This dream involved me attempting to escape a future New York City (I somehow knew it was in the future).

As of today, my word count is 3770 words.

What happened?  (Also known as:  What's my excuse?)

Too many distractions.  A vacation.  A huge case of writer's block.  I've done almost all the writing in the past five days.

I don't like backing off of challenges, but I don't think the writing is going to happen this time.  My teenaged dream to story project will have to wait until I can really sit down and think about it.  Meanwhile, all these things I've read circulate in my mind.  And here I am, supposed to be just writing.  (Note, I am not asking you, dear readers, these questions. I'm supposed to be answering them myself. No cheating!)

1.  Show, not tell. Oh, it is so much easier to explain something than to show it.  Can't I just tell it? (I say this in a whiny voice.  The answer is yes, sometimes.)

2.  Your protagonist has to be likeable.  Oh darn, character development!  Maybe the protagonist can be a jerk, but he or she has to be a likeable jerk.  In non fiction, characters develop themselves.  How am I going to make my main charac...I mean, protagonist (have to use the big word here) likeable but not built out of sugar? I reckon I'm a nice older woman now but when I was a teen, I could be a real jerk. (Yes, I said it here!!)

3.  I haven't even thought of an antagonist yet. Does the antagonist (the person who "opposes" the protagonist) have to be a person?  Can it be a thing? A force of nature?  Like, for example, the weather?  (The answer, dear reader, is Yes.  Whew!)

4.  Dialog.   Doesn't come easy for me.  I get the feeling that an author either loves to write dialog, or hates to write dialog. Guess which camp I'm in.

5.  And I don't care what they say, but I'm not putting a love triangle in the story.  In fact, there will be no romance whatsoever!  I hate love triangles in YA books! Why do authors think they are needed? Is it a law?

How do people do all this fiction stuff and write thousands of words in 30 days???

 There will be another Camp session in July, so if I do drop out, I can try again.

Have you ever started a story and then wondered what happened to what you thought you wanted to write?

Best of AM- A Story for the Birds

We are getting snow this morning, and it isn't even part of a winter storm watch we are under.  It's going to be a mess, literally.

Right now, I am at 42,217 words towards my 50,000 NaNoWriMo goal - so I am featuring (unedited) the story of a local artist I first published in November, 2009- one who, I am happy to say, is still making his art.  (Photos of his art were taken by permission.)  Please enjoy this encore post while I continue to labor on my NaNoWriMo Work in Progress.

Tomorrow, I promise a "live" post.

A story of the Art Studios Open House in Susquehanna County, PA

It took me a while to post this, but I wanted to share the story and art of one the artists I visited this year. 

The artist is Tom Richie  He's a wood carver....and someone alive due to a heart transplant.  He took up carving in the "bad days" before his new heart became available, and still keeps very busy now.  His house is an amazing collection of his art, and Tom graciously permitted me to take pictures of some of his carvings.  (the rooster isn't his, and as I recall, the paintings aren't his either.)  The artistic arrangement of the pieces was as wonderful as the carvings themselves.

This is the point at which I wish I had won the lottery, and could have bought many of these.

 

 

What I wasn't able to get was pictures of his bird feeder, alive with several different species of woodpeckers and various songbirds.

What an amazing place to live.

After some wonderful conversation with Mr. Richie, we left, but I hope we will be back one day.

NaNoWriMo Check in 11-18-13 - Never The Same Way Again

I am a little more than halfway through my NaNoWriMo memoir, An Insignificant Life: 26,306 words towards the goal of 50,000.

It hasn't been an insignificant struggle.  thought it would be harder to write fiction (like I did last year) than a memoir. I was wrong.

First, there are the constant distractions.  The second week is always hard, but it has been a nonstop fight with distractions I did not have in writing fiction.   I keep wanting to fact check and, although I know that now is NOT the time to fact check, there I am doing it. 

Some of the fact checking has been fascinating, but, again, now is not the time for that.

I am mentally exhausted.  My memory has so many holes in it, it is like a piece of disintegrating lace. The "why" of "why should I examine my life" is slipping just beyond my reach, laughing in my face from a safe distance. 

I try to listen to the inner voice when it whispers "you need to write about this particular memory" but other times, I just think of my NaNoWriMo writing buddies who have completed their 50,000 words, and feel a little bit of envy. I shouldn't, and I know this isn't a competition against my buddies.  So I will need to find a way to remotivate myself.  Even if I have to start a new WIP, that counts against the total.

I will never read a memoir again in the same way.  Last year, I said the same thing about fiction works.  I haven't even done all the work that goes into a novel yet.  I have never put any of my WIPS (works in progress, but I might as well call them Whips) through even the first editing process.


Until last year, I never knew writing was so much work.  I am not even reading the NaNoWriMo pep talks or going into the forums right now.  If I wanted to distract myself, I should at least be doing that!

So, I am behind where I should be - on day 18 I should have had 30,000 words written. My spouse's cataract surgery, and the four day Thanksgiving weekend, are almost here.  Last November, I even got sick and couldn't write for a day or so.  If that happens this year, I am finished and not a winner.

I haven't depended much on past posts for this blog yet, which I was going to do.  So I must implement "Plan B".  Be prepared to read some of my early posts.   I hope you enjoy them.

Are you in NaNoWriMo? How are you doing?

NaNoWriMo Check in #1 - The Evil of Distraction

The magic number is 8405. It sounds like a lot of words, but in a month of NaNoWriMo, when I am supposed to be writing 50,000 words, I am behind.  I should have been at over 10,000 words as of first thing this morning.  I'm supposed to average 1,667 words a day, and I'm not. If I keep up this pace, I'll finish on December 7.

Oops.

And there is a very good reason for my lack of verbiage.  There has been some busyness in my life, but I've still had time to write.  I thought the words would just flow, attempting to write a memoir.  After all, it's my life.  Certainly I can dredge up 50,000 words worth of - well, memory. Just write the facts, ma'am.

Not so fast.

I am continously wrestling with the "Internal editor", the part of me who wants to think about whether somethign is phrased right, and especially the part that wants to do fact checking.

Fact checking on the Internet, where five innocent minutes quickly turn into "one hour later", is not a good idea right now.  Ah, sweet distraction.  I should have been doing that in October.

At least, last year, writing fiction, I didn't have to worry about fact checking.

Here's a memory of Mr. Lazar, my 7th and 9th grade English teacher. He was one of the first to seriously encourage me to write. Hey, is he still alive?  Time to open Google and see.

What was the name of that hot dog stand on Fordham Road that I loved?  When did the Third Avenue El cease service and get torn down?

One advantage of growing up in New York City is that a lot of memories are available online.  The disadvantage is, a lot of memories are available online.

For example, I found one of my class pictures, and no, I'm not linking to it.

I found some interesting stuff (interesting to me, anyway).  I found a recent video on You Tube that shows a brief (very brief) clip of the housing project where I grew up. (Yes, I am going to show it to you - just not today.)  I confirmed that my housing project was, indeed, a goat farm before the project was built - just like my Mom and Dad had told me.  Imagine that - a goat farm in New York City, in the 1940's.

Here is a story of my neighborhood- to be more exact, a playground across the street.

You can see how addictive (and distracting) this is.

But now, back to work.  I have a chicken memoir to write!

Are you participating in NaNoWriMo?  If you are, how are you doing?

If you want to be my writing buddy, here I am.

A Gas of Milk Revisited

 Last November 8, I wrote this post at the one week mark of NaNoWriMo, the writing competition I am competing (against the clock, not anyone in particular) in again this year.

Strange how last year's fictional memoir turned into a mental health project. I suspect my "real" memoir is going to turn into one too.

The more things change...

Since I am hard at work on my fourth day of NaNoWriMo, please enjoy this post from November 8, 2012.

Pouring a Gas of Milk

NaNoWriMo Weekly check in #1.  The total word count as of bedtime last night is 13,728.  A whole lot to go.

I hope most of those sentences are more coherent than my "gas of water" gem.

One of the biggest challenges of the National Novel Writing Month (writing a 50,000 word novel in the 30 days of November) is keeping your ideas flowing.  It's supposed to be all about turning off your inner editor- you know, the inner editor that all bloggers have.  Write now, edit after November ends.

The second biggest challenge is staying coherent.  Hence the "gas of milk".

I meant to say "glass of milk".  To the NaNoWriMo word count, it doesn't matter. But to me, it does.

My third biggest challenge is shutting up the inner voice that keeps saying "no one is going to care about what you write. Boorrrrrrring! "

After reviewing the NaNoWriMo rules, I decided to turn this novel into a mental health project.  The flood our area survive last year has now been dwafted, big time, by Sandy.  I have friends and family on Long Island, New Jersey, and in NYC.  I'm not even sure all of them have power back. Did I happen to mention that, as I pre-write this post, it is snowing heavily down there? 

But there is something I have to get out of my system.

And so, I am writing the fictional memoir of someone who could be me in an alternate universe. In that universe, my Mom didn't die when I was 12.  She is alive, and 90 years old.  (I have a feeling I am channeling a friend and loyal Ramblin with AM blog reader.  Fear not, friend, she is not your Mom. She is my Mom, if she had lived to 90.).  In that universe, I have the daughter who, in this universe, I never had. (not that I have ever not loved my son.)  In that universe, I am working in a career I changed in "real life" years ago.  In that universe, I am a writer.  Come to think of it, I am one in this universe, too.

I'm working on a book, about something that happened in Binghamton in 1962.

There's one other thing.  In this universe, I was not here when the flood happened, when my neighborhood was evacuated.  My spouse and I were 7 hours away, on vacation.  You can check my blog, posts of September 7-September 11 to see what "really" happened. In this universe, anyway.

About three weeks after the flood, a neighbor offhandedly said to me, "but you weren't here"  I don't think he meant anything by it, but it plunged me into a big bout of Survivors Guilt I've never mentioned in this blog until just now.

I have spent the last 14 months wondering what would have happened if we had been home when the flood came.  And now I know, because I am writing about it.

Fiction with a dash or two of fact. And a project that will put mental demons to rest, at last.  Liberation.  Freedom.

Free at last.

Thank you, NaNoWriMo.

Trick or Treating with Superman

Last night, on the eve of NaNoWriMo, I answered the door to give out Halloween treats until the rain got too heavy and the kids stopped coming. In between, I remembered back when I had a little one, too many years ago.   Had to get into the groove for writing a memoir, after all.

One Halloween stand out in my memory.

Unlike last night, when temperatures were mild (57 degrees F), we sometimes used to get snow, back in the "old days". On this particular Halloween, we got snow. A lot of snow. As I recall, some 13 inches (what a number, for Halloween!) of wet, gloppy, snow.

In those days of thrift but of not of being too creative, I looked to pajamas, raincoats, and the like as the basis of costumes for my little son. This particular year it was to be pajamas and boots.  The combination cried out "Superhero!" and, sure enough, I was able to find superhero pajamas that looked just like the outfit Superman wore. Complete with cape.

A pair of boots completed the outfit.  Everyone in upstate New York owns boots so it wasn't an extra expense.

Superman, and his mother, went from neighborhood door to door in the snowstorm. Apparently, not too many other trick or treaters were that crazy, because, as we wound our way through the neighborhood, Superman's plastic pumpkin started to fill up fast.

Too fast.  I think people were taking pity on my little one, handing out, two, three, and even four candies to one happy little boy.

We ended up with so much candy, we must have been on a sugar high for months. (Yes, "us"  I was a bad mom. A VERY bad mom.)

So, onward now (as of 12:01 am this morning) to my memoir. As you read this post, I'll be typing furiously, about my own childhood.  Maybe I'll even think a little about the Halloweens of my childhood in the Bronx.

Do you have good memories of a particular Halloween?

Fright and NaNoWriMo

Today it's Halloween.   A time for decorating, for trick or treating, for pretending you are things you aren't. And to prepare for a writing marathon.

Halloween decorations have become so popular in the United States these last few years, that you find them almost everywhere.

In Northwest Arkansas, for example, when I visited in August, some decorations were already up. (this was in a Wal Mart parking lot.) I loved the hay bale jack o'lantern.

I found another hay bale jack o'lantern at a local Southern Tier of New York dairy farm.

Here in upstate New York, bushes are covered in fake spider webs. Pumpkins rest on porches.  Inflatable witches rest in some front yards.

In a downtown Binghamton apartment, a space under a window has been transformed into a graveyard.

On the West Side of Binghamton, another front yard graveyard.

This is "fake" death and fright, though.  Sometimes, the scary truth is just a few hundred feet away.

In downtown Binghamton we have a 9/11 monument, complete with a girder from the former World Trade Center.  Knowing that there are groups who would love nothing better than to inflict this kind of pain on the world (and having just done so, in Kenya, not too long ago) is truly scary.

And, there is one more type of fright.  The fright of the writer facing a blank computer screen.

Tomorrow I start my participation in NaNoWriMo. This requires me to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Last year was my first time, but this year I am actually a bit scared.  Will I be able to write 50,000 words devoted to a memoir?  I've already written some 20,000 words of memory in two previous Camp NaNoWriMos.  But this is the big time.  My reputation is at stake. I have fans rooting for me! I have writing buddies!

Gulp. Nothing Halloween can scare up for fake fright can compare with this.

So I may not be seeing you that much in November.

I'll be checking in from time to time. You may see some "Best of AM" posts this month, but I plan to continue my daily post schedule.


The preparations are done.

Tomorrow, the work begins.

David, Goliath, Parental Loss, and NaNoWriMo

Do I want to have my soul devoured by a November ritual called NaNoWriMo?  I just might, because of an interview I listened to last night.  But first, bear with me a moment or two.

Do I want to spend this November feverishly trying to write 50,000 words for my own personal satisfaction, and to show myself (and maybe the world) that I can do it again?  My manuscript from last year is still in my computer, with one of the main characters (a fictional daughter by the name of Madison) occasionally pounding on the lid of my laptop from within, demanding that she be let out.  I haven't revisited the manuscript nor Madison - it was a work of mental healing, a fictionalized "what if" of my life, something never really meant for public consumption.

But, how can I resist another heart-pounding competition against myself?  Bravely, earlier this month, I decided I would be a rebel and write my memoir. (This is a fiction competition, and memoirs aren't fiction. Hence, I would be a "rebel")  I've made a couple of stabs at this memoir - back when I didn't know what was involved in writing a memoir.

I have tried to educate myself recently and realize I have a long way to go in actually writing a true memoir.

The doubts were gathering, like grey lake effect clouds on an upstate New York November afternoon. Do I really want to gaze into the navel of my life? (especially if I use cliches like that). Can I do it and write something worthwhile? Oh, that devil, insecurity.

I don't have delusions about this being marketable.  I wasn't raised in a dysfunctional family.  I didn't survive a war.  I have never been an alcoholic or a drug addict (unless you count chocolate as an addiction). I am not famous, not even in my dreams.  I have always felt there was nothing significant about me.  I'm just an average "Jane" from New York City.

Apparently, I am wrong about being average.

Last night, I listened to a TV interview with the author Malcolm Gladwell,  You may not have read his books, but his ideas have entered the modern consciousness - from tipping points to outliers. I read the book "Outliers", and enjoyed it very much.  I love the concept of "things aren't necessarily what you think they are."  Some critics feel Gladwell oversimplifies, but this isn't meant as a review of Gladwell's ideas.  Rather, it is about something Gladwell said in last night's interview.

Gladwell has written a new book called David and Goliath.

To quote the New York Times, the book is " about the advantages of disadvantages — and the disadvantages of seeming advantages.".  (One example Gladwell gave is the disproportionate number of successful people with dyslexia - something that caught my ear as one of my cousins has dyslexia.)
Then, something else he said had me suddenly thinking about my memoir-to-be.

Quoting again from the NY Times:

"..one of the most unconventional theories in “David and Goliath” is that for certain people, losing a parent early in life can be an advantage. He cites the work of Marvin Eisenstadt, a psychologist who did a study showing that “of the 573 eminent people for whom Eisenstadt could find reliable biographical information, a quarter had lost at least one parent before the age of 10” — and 45 percent had lost a parent before the age of 20."

My Mom died (suddenly) when I was 12.  And I would say that yes, that loss was the defining moment of my life.  In fact, I have never written about it.  Some memories of that night in November of 1965 are too painful for me to write about, even nearly 50 years later.

Was having my Mom die at age 12 an advantage for me?

Strangely, in some ways (am I disloyal to my Mom to say so?) I would say "yes".

I now have the theme of my memoir: loss and coming out, a different but better person, on the other side. Loss of a mother as a child.  My childhood neighborhood, which turned into a slum when I was still growing up there.  Loss of a dream of rural self-sufficiency in Arkansas.

In some ways, we are all survivors of loss.  Or, will be survivors of loss, if we live long enough.  What can be a more human theme than surviving loss?

I have registered on the NaNoWriMo website.  My working title is "An Insignificant Life", in honor of the late author Frank McCourt.

If you plan to participate in NaNoWriMo this year and if you want to be your writing buddy, you can find me under RamblinWritr (no "e").

Thankful Friday Part 1 - I Pay It Forward

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a blogger as good as her word.

Yesterday, I promised that I would give shout outs to bloggers whose blogs I enjoy reading, and also shout outs to some of my loyal followers.  I will require absolutely nothing from the bloggers I am going to write about today, and in the coming weeks, because

1.  It's about time I recognized you; and
2.  If I join up with NaNoWriMo and write my Rebellious Memoir (aka my Chicken Memoir) in November, I will need to write some posts in advance. (and if you want to join me, my screen name is RamblinWritr).

But what I will ask - and no obligation, here!, is that you pay it forward.  Recognize people in your life who you cherish. Bloggers, family members, teachers, loved ones. 

But, don't feel obligated!  Well, no, maybe feel obligated a LITTLE.   (Ulterior motive alert!)

Here's my first set of nominations for the AM Truly Thanks You So Pay It Forward award.

First, two bloggers who have nominated me for the famous Liebster Blog Award,proving that both bloggers are bloggers of exquisite taste and impeccable judgement.

Roy A. Ackerman, whose posts will never disappoint you.

Tia Bach, Author. She's - well, an author.  And a d**m good one, too.
 
Next, the woman who twisted my arm  convinced me I should enter my very first blog challenge - without her I'm about 99% certain I would have quit blogging a long time ago. So, now you know who to blame for my blog.  She doesn't blog near enough, and I sure wish she did.  Billie Noakes.

Next, she thinks she's just an Average Woman - but she, in reality, is anything but.  She's actually an Average Superwoman! Another blogger who doesn't blog enough.  No pressure, though, Sandi!

And last but not least, this last name is not a blogger shout out but rather a moment of tribute for someone I admired when I was young. I mourn yesterday's death of Scott Carpenter, one of the original Mercury astronauts and the second American to orbit the Earth.  Yes, I'm old enough to remember the Mercury program and the anxious moments we spent when Carpenter's capsule overshot its landing site by some 250 miles. 

Ninety-two year old former Mercury astronaut, John Glenn, is the last living Mercury astronaut. The mortality that was so distant in my youth creeps up.

Once  again, too, I can mourn the end of our space program.

On that day in 1962 I never dreamed there would be an Internet, or such a thing as blogging.  Perhaps, in a small way, Scott Carpenter led us to the world we live in now.


Godspeed, Scott Carpenter.

My Second Year and It's Time to Rebel

Funny, when I was in my rebellious youth, I was never a rebel.  In the rebellious 1960's, I didn't join a student group against the Vietnam War.  Yes, I demonstrated, a couple of times for other causes.  Yes, I was a pain to my teachers at times (one compared me to Dorothy Parker and I'm thinking maybe he wasn't praising me).  Maybe one day I'll even blog about the day I went to our state capital with other high school demonstrators and the true education I got that day.

Instead, I wait until I am 60 to decide to be a rebel. 

Today is the first day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge, a 31 posts in 31 day challenge I've taken (and completed) several times.  In fact, I've been blogging daily (with a lot of effort and more than a little luck) every day since late April of 2011.  So I can (cross fingers) promise you a daily post, with theme days on Wednesday (fall), Saturday (sustainable living), Sunday (the Civil War). On other days, you get what you get.  Like today.

In a month, it's time for another challenge, and I've been thinking hard about it.

There is a yearly writing competition called NaNoWriMo.  The purpose of the 30 day November madness of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is to challenge yourself to write 50,000. words in 30 days.  It is so difficult. I completed the challenge last year for the first time (writing a fictional memoir) and I sweated an ocean of liquid.  But the pep talks in NaNoWriMo?  The forums?  The virtual companionship? Priceless!  They made it all worthwhile.  And I'm thinking of joining the madness again.

The one rule in NaNoWriMo is that it has to be totally original (no pre writing prior to the November 1 start or editing already written manuscripts, although outlines for a brand new fiction work are fine), and it has to be fiction.  Other than that, you write 50,000 words.  You don't have to edit, although you can.  You just write and write and write and....well, you get the idea.  You drink tons of coffee.  You bite your nails.  You submit your manuscript to an automated system for official word count.  It's all on the honor system.  No one verifies you've obeyed the rules.

The fiction part is my problem.  I am not a fiction writer.  I like true stories.  I like history.  I like to write about what I know. Or, I write when I learn or experience something new.  And the only way I can write what I like to write is to be a "rebel".

NaNoWriMo does allow rebels.  If you write a movie script for NaNoWriMo, you're a rebel. If you write unrelated short stores, you're a rebel. Manga? Rebel.  How-to guide? Rebel. Writing via a blog? Rebel.  And nonfiction?

Rebel.

But the news isn't all bad.  You can rebel, and still participate. (There is cheating, but true rebelling is not cheating.  NaNoWriMo says so!  That's what I think, anyway, after a lot of research last night.  You can even declare your rebellion on the website.

So why shouldn't I slip out of the goody-goody role I've played all my life and rebel?

My second year and I'm already a rebel.  Breaking out of the mold. 

Are you ready to join me at NaNoWriMo?

On A Warm July 1 Morning

On a warm summer morning one July 1, birds sang.  Perhaps children were out picking raspberries on the edge of a small town in Southeast Pennsylvania.

Perhaps some of them were picking wild strawberries.

And other picked the abundant wildflowers, perhaps to put in a bouquet for their mothers.

None of these people knew what would happen in the next three days.  At the end of July 1, 1863, 16,000. soldiers would lie dead, wounded or captured.  All together, from July 1 to July 3, 1863,  51,000 casualties....and the Confederates turned back from their aim to capture Harrisburg, Pennsylvania and force the Union to recognize the Confederate States of America.  But at what a cost.

Today, Tuesday and Wednesday are the 150th anniversary of the Civil War Battle of Gettysburg, the pivotal battle in Pennsylvania which changed the course of American history.  This battle was the bloodiest battle in the Civil War/American history. 

Thursday, July 4, will be the 150th anniversary of the fall of Vicksburg, in Mississippi, a siege which also shaped the course of American history.

In recognition of these watershed events in the Civil War, I will be devoting the next four days on my blog to the Civil War.  This won't be "just any" coverage - if you were bored to tears in school by your history classes,  I promise this will not be your school's dreaded dead or dying on arrival history instruction.  I hate dead history myself.  I know not all of my blog readers are into the Civil War, so you may want to come back on Friday for some nice wildflowers.

For today, I'd like to have Senator Angus King of Maine provide the "video" for my blog.  (If you don't want to listen to the video, a transcript of the speech is included - but I do recommend the video. You'll see why.)  It's almost 13 minutes, but it is time well spent, and will give you an overview of some of the events of this battle, including the actions of one man - Joshua Chamberlain - a man who had been a professor in a Maine college the year before.

So what else is interesting about Senator King? He was born, not in Maine (a Union state) but in Virginia (a former Confederate state). And he is an Independent (not a Republican or a Democrat) - "his own man".


In the next couple of days, I'd like to tell you some stories about the battle of Gettysburg, perhaps some you have never heard of before, including two with a local, upstate New York slant.  You'll learn things many people do not know about Joshua Chamberlain, the hero of Little Roundtop, who spent a lot of his life in Brunswick, Maine,. You'll also find out about the role my home area of upstate New York played in the Battle of Gettysburg - one you, and many others, probably have never heard of.

And, you'll read a story about Vicksburg, Mississippi, the city with a long memory which refused to...no, I'm not going to tell you.  You'll have to come back July 4th and see.

For those joining me today in either Camp NaNoWriMo or the Ultimate Blog Challenge, welcome!

Word!

Today is "Word Cloud" day and the final day of the Word Count 2013 Blogathon.  Later today, I will post my Civil War Sunday post.

To create a Wordle "word cloud" go to the Wordle website and enter the URL of your blog's main page. You can choose different fonts, sizes, colors and even layouts. Then, in order to save it, you must do a screen shot and save it in Paint (if you are using a PC, which I am) and edit out your computer's  taskbar and whatever else doesn't belong. And voilà! (I can't get rid of some of the spaces, though so it saved a bit strange. If I make it bigger, the image is too big for the screen.

 Mine shows what's been on my mind: Farmers Markets.  Am I surprised?

My wrap up of the 2013 WordCount Blogathon will come later this week.  Tomorrow I start the Ultimate Blog Challenge and Camp NaNoWriMo. In the meantime: celebration!  I have survived my third Blogathon!

Do you enjoy making word clouds? Have you ever made one as a tool to analyze your blog?