NaNoWriMo 2012: Check!

Just a quick post to say...

I just passed the 50k mark for my NaNoWriMo novel! 50,395 words to be exact!

I'm off to do a victory lap of my house (maybe the street too, but it's a bit nippy outside...). I'll be back at some point to do a wee post about my NaNo experience this year and hope to hear all your writerly news too.

Good luck to everyone still taking part, I hope you're all coming along splendid!

x ◦

NaNoWriMo 2012: Check!

#IWSG: How do you commit to a story?

In my last post, I spoke about how I was being a wee cool cucumber with regards to NaNoWriMo 2012. Indeed, on the 1st November, I still didn't have an inkling of what I was going to write about.

Every time I thought up a new idea, it didn't grab me, or excite me enough to want to commit 50k words to it. I have a plethora of ideas in a document at home, but I was reluctant to revert to it. I wanted something new. Something fresh. Something experimental.

That's when the insecurity set in. What if nothing looks appealing enough to write about? What am I all about, not creating an outline? Why am I making it hard for myself?

As the panic set in, my mind instantly started to cloud over. The gates of my imagination welded shut.

There was only one way to get that gate back open and I'm blogging about it today so that every time I start a new project and feel stuck, I can look back and remember what to do...

I need to, at all times, immerse myself in creative expression. You'd be hard pushed to find anything better than the Kelvingrove Art Gallery & Museum. I defy you to come away from it unscathed.

I'd covered no more than a mere corner of the gallery (The Glasgow Boys gallery, to be exact. Go see it. It's splendid), when my NaNo story appeared from nowhere and practically assaulted me. I had to keep perching on a nearby seat to scribble down ideas before they disappeared forever, and when it came to typing them up, I was finally grabbed.

Seven days in and I'm currently sitting at 11,056 words. I'm really happy with that, considering I've been blighted by sinusitis the past few days. It's hard conjuring up the motivation to write when it hurts to move your eyeballs even a fraction. I don't like moaning about illness though, it's depressing. On a brighter note, I did discover that I don't need my eyeballs to type. I seem to drift off into a weird gaze whilst my fingers navigate my well-worn keyboard.

I just knew that "Teaching Yourself to Touch Type" CD ROM I purchased eight years ago would come in handy one day...

I suspect many members of the Insecure Writers Support Group will also be doing NaNo and might not have the time to visit their usual amount of blogs. That's not to stop you visiting them, though. Go do it here! They're all lovely.

How are you all getting on with your writing projects? Also, what is it about your story that made you commit to it? How did you get the balls to see past your "blank page" insecurities? Do share... :) x ◦

#IWSG: How do you commit to a story?

NaNoWriMo 2012

Who's all taking part in NaNoWriMo this year?

I'm really looking forward to getting stuck into a brand new story. The thing is... it starts in less than 17 hours and I haven't settled on an idea yet!

This is highly unusual for me. Last year, I posted about my NaNoWriMo planning in September, for crying out loud. I had a spreadsheet and everything!

Sometimes I cringe when I look back at my previous posts, full of naive promise and unrealistic targets. In that September post, I said "It's important for me to keep as organised as humanly possible. It's how I work. I need to establish routine and commit to it fully."

On the 2nd October last year, I panicked about only having 29 days left to "plan and prepare" for NaNo.

Oh how things have changed...

I'm hoping my current calm is a sign of growth and confidence in my ability, rather than apathy. I am still committed to my 50k in November. In truth, I've been so wrapped up in finishing the first draft of my current WIP "Brothers", I've not given myself the chance to think too much about NaNo. I know that I have a few novels to edit in 2013, that I'm really passionate about, so the pressure is off for this one.

I'm quite excited about the possibility of going with the flow and being a bit experimental with my story. I'm still getting up at 4:30am to do my freewriting Morning Pages, which have proved beneficial, amusing and slightly eccentric. It's probably the reason I'm less interested in structure this time round and more interested in seeing how far I can stretch my creative muscles.

On the NaNoWriMo website, I named my novel "Solid Ground" because the words flashed up on the telly at the time of writing. Chances are the real title won't transpire till the end of November. But who knows? It could be a sign!

How are you all getting on? Are you all set for a month of writing?

Best of luck to everyone participating! ◦

NaNoWriMo 2012

Letting Go Bloghop

I knew the minute I opened the door to him, things would be over between you and I. 

I could hardly contain the tremble in my voice as I gave him directions to our home. In truth, I didn’t want him to come, but you’d left me no choice. You were the one who decided not to work at it anymore. I would’ve happily continued our union forever.

You had other ideas.

It wasn’t always like this. I used to scoff at people who claimed there was truth in “Love at First Sight”. That all changed when I saw you. My eyes drank you in; devoured you. I needed you in my life from that moment on. I still do.

Things were so wonderful at the start. We’d go on long drives; you’d take me anywhere I needed to go. Remember our first winter together? It was so windy outside, not a day had passed when a truck hadn’t blown over own the motorway. We’d have to brave the elements every day, but you’d always keep me warm and safe.

That was, until you decided to abandon me in the snow. I was so devastated, two strangers came out of their homes to see if I was alright. What a state you left me in.

That spelled the end for us. There was no coming back from that, no matter how much I loved you.

When he rang the doorbell, my first reaction was to hide. I’d never done anything like this before, and I was still hurting. But it had to be done.

“Miss Noble?”“Yes.”“The best I can offer is fifty quid.”I sucked in my breath. “It’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

And so I signed on the dotted line. He hooked you up to his truck and towed you off to the car park in the sky.

You taught me a harsh reality the day your engine exploded. Reliability and beauty are rarely combined traits.

Letting you go was the hardest thing I ever did. *sniffle*
 

(My old Ford Puma - My One and Only Heartbreak)

I hope you enjoyed my wee story :) I signed up to Kyra Lennon's Bloghop to celebrate the release of her latest novella "If I Let You Go". Go download it immediately, it's FREE for the next 24 hours!

If you'd like to take part in the Bloghop, here are the details:

Was there a time when you had to let go of someone or something? How did it make you feel? How did you handle it? Or if that's too personal - which I completely understand - how about writing a piece of flash fiction? The only rules are - obviously - it has to be related to letting go, and please keep it to a maximum of 500 words.When the day arrives, I will hop around to all the entries, along with my independent judge (otherwise known as "Mum" LOL), and the story that touches us the most will win a $10 Amazon gift card!
I can't wait to read it! x

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Letting Go Bloghop

Don't give up the day job, hen.

It’s been a month since I last blogged. How did that happen? Where have I been?

 

Well, I’ve been writing. I’ve been tearing through the first draft of a new novel I’m working on, and I’ve been learning my craft. I’ve been doing my Morning Pages every day as soon as my eyes flicker open (4:30am on workdays. Ouch). I’ve been clustering and journaling and plotting and spending all my time either writing or thinking about writing.

I’ve sacrificed my bubble of ignorance for observation; overhearing and capturing snippets of conversation that I find hilarious or disturbing.

The downside of observing others for research purposes, however, is the obligation to tolerate humanity. I despair! 

Overall, though, I couldn’t be happier with my progress at this point in time.

Nobody is immune from insecurities. So what am I insecure about this month?

Well, all this heightened writing activity has naturally had an effect on how I spend my days. Considering I don’t tell many people about my writing (you know, apart from the thousands of people who’ve read this blog), it would appear to most that I've either:

a) become obscenely lazy
b) become (even more) anti-social
c) developed a cleaning & organisation fetish

Let me illustrate this with a few conversation snippets.

A colleague asks: “What did you get up to this weekend?”

• Me (internally): “Oh, just opening a few veins, bleeding on to a page or ten.”

• Me (externally): “Oh, I just had a quiet one, I didn’t do anything, really.”

Mum calls me:“What are your plans for the day?”

• Me (internally): “A few clustering & freewrite exercises, followed by a mammoth writing session”
• Me (externally): “Oh, just rearranging my wardrobe and cleaning the windows.”

When disappearing from my desk every lunchtime (when for the last 5 years I’ve taken lunch at my desk), I'm asked: “Did you have a nice lunch?”

• Me (internally):“It was wonderful. I managed 1249 words in 34 minutes.”

• Me (externally): “Aye, it was alright.” (No further elaboration)

Why do I stop myself from mentioning my goal – nay, my purpose – in life? Because... people will act like you’re a weirdo, like you've just admitted to skinning cats for fun, if you do something as silly as that. Which makes them the real weirdos, really, but I remain silent nonetheless.

For me, telling someone you’re a writer is like telling a fellow Glaswegian you’re teetotal. You’re met with a glazed, confused stare. It’s beyond comprehension to many. 

In the “Start Writing Fiction” podcast from the Open University, author Michèle Roberts gives some sage advice: “Don’t tell the wrong people that you want to write, because they’ll mock you and laugh at you.”

So who are the “wrong people?” Personally, I consider that to be everyone who doesn't infact write themselves. Don’t get me wrong, I talk about my writing, to an extent, to my nearest and dearest, but I wouldn't hark on to my neighbours or colleagues about it.

So why allow myself to come across as someone I'm not? Why not just confess my writerly ways?

Because it was hard enough convincing myself that writing isn’t simply an act of self-indulgence, without having to convince other people too.

The more involved I am with my writing, the more precious it is becoming to me, and the more fiercely I will protect my right to write.

I’ve opened that can of worms before. In a more gallus temperament, I’ve spoken of my writing ambition to some "wrong people". It invariably created questions. Sceptical questions. “What, so you think you’re going to get published? Do you fancy yourself as the next J. K. Rowling? You’ll have to keep your day job, of course.”

Calm down, pal.

In order to explain your writing dream properly, you’d have to spend a hell of a lot of time talking about yourself. And I don’t care for talking about myself. I’d rather go and write about other people, to be frank.

Sometimes I wonder if it scares some people, seeing someone pursue their dreams. Perhaps it forces them to wonder about their own dreams; ones that remain unfulfilled. The path to writing is unique because you can’t really follow step-by-step instructions to becoming qualified (believe me, I’ve tried), like the way you can in another career like a mechanic or a midwife. Maybe this is why most people don’t consider writing as a real profession.

One of the most common attributes of writers, I like to believe, is their ability not to care too much about what other people think of them. Otherwise, they’d be too terrified to even think about writing, don’t you think?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all sinister attitudes and ugliness. Perhaps people genuinely are happy for you and wish you all the best with your endeavours. Maybe everything I just said above wasn’t a reflection on other people, but of my own insecurities as a writer.

In that case, when better to divulge these insecurities than in my post for the Insecure Writers Support Group, hmm?

How is everyone getting on? Have you had any experiences of sharing your writing dream with the "wrong people"?

I shall catch up with all my fellow #ISWG writers over the weekend. Looking forward to it! x ◦

Don't give up the day job, hen.

#IWSG: Self-Sabotage

(My second IWSG post. Yay!)

I'm almost embarrassed to ask this question, for fear of exposing myself as a psychopath, but does anyone else suffer from an overwhelming compulsion to sabotage their own efforts, in writing or anything else that's important to them?

I do. It's like there's a tiny monster in my head pretending to be my wee pal. Lets call him Bampot.

My lunch hour writing sessions have fast become the most productive of all my writing. Every time I go back to my desk, I'm brimming with a feeling of accomplishment.

So why, then, does little Bampot say to me in the mornings: "don't bother taking your laptop to work with you today, you might drop and break it. You'll just hurt your shoulder humphing it around anyway. You can freewrite at your desk..." and so on.

It's not the first time Bampot has reared his ugly head. He fast appears when I want to do something creative with my life. When I was thirteen, my music teacher invited me to join the Strathclyde Arts Jazz Group. I was terrified, but went along anyway. And I was so glad I did. I'd be up there, doing my flute solo (yes, Jazz Flute, just call me Ron Burgundy), being part of this amazing musical creation. There's nothing else like it, I tell ye.

So why, then, did Bampot convince me to "forget" to take my flute from the school's music cupboard the night before our practise sessions? "You can still go and watch," he'd say to me, "it just means you don't have to play. Don't put yourself under that pressure. You might mess up your solo and look like a fool."

So I'd turn up empty handed, making my excuses. But my music teacher, Mr. Gourlay, he knew the score. He'd bring my flute with him when I "forgot". I have a feeling he knew I was at it, and I'm grateful to him for that; for pushing me out of my comfort zone. It's one the best things you can do for someone, in my opinion. By the time I made my way back home, I was high with adrenaline, so happy to have been part of the magic again. That creative buzz is quite addictive, you know. Shame I'd always try to "forget" my flute the next week, and the next...

I think everyone has a little Bampot in their head. One that tells you: don't bother applying for that job, you won't get it. Give your boyfriend one more chance. He treats you like shit, but he's alright sometimes. He's more than you deserve anyway. What's the point in dieting? Would you rather eat rabbit food and be miserable for the rest of your life? Here, have a chip. You can't give up smoking, you enjoy it and it's good for your stress levels. You could get knocked down and killed by a bus tomorrow, for all you know. Life's too short.

Don't write that book. You don't know what you're doing. There are millions of books out there, all written better than yours. Look at these authors, spouting out three books a year and you're still working on your first. Never mind being an author. It's not what it used to be anyway; you have to be a PR mogul whilst you're at it these days. It's not what you write, it's who'll review your book. Just do yourself a favour and stick to reading books and writing the occasional journal. You'll save yourself a lot of pain and time. How wonderful would it be not to be plagued by feelings of inadequacy anymore? Just give it up. You tried your best. It wasn't meant to be.

Sometimes defying Bampot feels like you're going against your natural instincts. But from what I've experienced in life so far, he only pops up when you're on the cusp of improving yourself; at risk of becoming a better person. Don't let him win. See him as a test. Really good things don't come without a fight.

I shouldn't let Bampot wear me down with my writing. I've refused to surrender to him for many things in my life. And it's been more than worth it every time. He won't get me this time either, I'll make sure of it. And all my fellow #IWSG lovelies should fight against Bampot too!

How are you all getting on anyway? I've been away on a trip to Dublin, so it feels like forever since I immersed myself in the bloggy world. Do give me your gossip! I'll come visit you when I can :) x

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#IWSG: Self-Sabotage

Whoopsie... I found Polyvore

This past week has been, on the whole, very productive. Having read my plea for writing discipline, my colleague, fellow writer and talented playwright Kris took pity on me and arranged an enforced writing day, whereby we met up at one of his secret writing locations and spent the day writing. It couldn't have been timed better!

Only the night before, I'd had an epiphany regarding the WIP. Originally intending to write the novel from two POVs (an elderly woman and her teenage granddaughter), it became less feasible as the story developed. Their situations became too big; too separate.

I love both of them, so it was decided. One novel became two. Nanny's story is being put on the back burner until the time comes to revive her. She joins my NaNo 2011 novel on the "To Be Written Properly" shelf, waiting to be plucked from hibernation and smartened up.

Armed with this new outlook, I tidied up the outline of my current WIP (I should probably give it a title), and everything seemed to just fit into place. Before, I'd used Nanny's story to flesh out the novel; to keep things interesting and give it a comical, eccentric break from what is essentially a very harrowing story. When I lifted Nanny's part away from the WIP, I also lifted a plethora of restrictions and obstacles.

The path is clear now, and I'm happily running down it.

Remember I said I was considering buying a rucksack so I could bring the laptop into work (without being mugged on the way in), to write on my lunch breaks? Well... I asked my twin, Irene, what she thought of this and she calmly replied "I'd rather be mugged than seen wearing a rucksack. Take the laptop bag and carry a knife."

I managed to compromise and found myself a gorgeous bag, big enough to hold the laptop (a fiver from Primark. Result!). I've since spent a few lunch hours writing and have been surprised by how much I can get done in less than an hour!

It's just as well I'm getting some work done, as I spent a ridiculous amount of time on Polyvore last night, creating outfits. I'm making a public promise to stay away from it (until next weekend), lest it take over my life. In the meantime, I want to share the beautiful little outfits I made with you. Sigh... aren't they precious?

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Whoopsie... I found Polyvore