So again, I look like a failure. Well... not so much as look but am. I may have agreed to do a public wrimo but I have discovered I cannot. I took something I love to do, something I feel absolutely un-inhibited in doing, and made it the opposite of that. So, instead I will not being doing what I had promised. I just can't. Not now. And no only am I not going to wrimo publicly I'm also going to take a little hiatus from public posts in general. Maybe an odd tweet here and there but in general I need to take some space. I've gotten into a dark place inside my head and to top everything else off I have set bars for myself that not many people could rightly accomplish.
Then there is the fact that I've started querying my novel. Out of the 9 I sent only 5 have responded to me. Which is good. I just thought I would have had more by now. That was a little over a month ago that I began. Oh well. I will just assume they were no's. I have been tough skinned when it comes to the rejection or at least I thought I was. As it turns out I'm wondering if I'm instead storing my emotions in a box for later use or whenever it decides to manifest itself in my life. As you can tell, I am a very healthy person.
Anyway... I realize now that I have put to much pressure on myself to succeed in so many areas. I understand that agents would prefer you to have a platform already built but... I don't know when anyone can find time. Regardless, I am going to take some time away and focus on other things, other projects. Out of the attempted public wrimo I did come about with some really new and intriguing story ideas that I am interested to write out. So, this wasn't a complete failure.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Day 1 of 31
I feel I must preface this with some sort of random explanation. In my super delusional mind I think I have this army of dedicated, mindless, followers that are unsure of my daily activities. I understand that is greatly preposterous but I digress.
For whatever reason I have decided to begin NaNoWriMo a month early. I guess I just wanted an extra day to bear some of the weight from the ultimate goal of a novel length work of fiction at 50,000 words. The other thing that confuses me is why I chose to do it publicly. Already I am sweating and going crazy fearing what people will say and think. Like any good writer I'm a perfectionist.(Mother of god, what was I thinking.) But I made a broad statement on my twitter and regardless of who reads it I made a promise and I want to stick to my word.
My internal mantra has been "just do it." I'm sure anyone that has done NaNoWriMo in the past knows how it works. The basic idea is to hit the allotted number of words; which for me stands at 1,612 since I have a whole extra day. I'm not supposed to re-read, or try and fix what I've written. It's just going. Like the website says: it's a sprint, not a marathon.
This exercise is not concentrated on the ultimate goal of a polished work of fiction. That of course comes later. This is PURELY a chance to get the words down that constantly bounce about in my thoughts. So... here I go.
Day 1 of 31.
Goal: 1,612 words
Start time: 9:15
When Aidan Palmer turned onto Tarotwood Lane, facing his house that sat at the end of the cul-de-sac street, two things were glaringly wrong. His eight year old son Jeffrey sat on the curb by himself, with his knees in his chest, in front of their home and a car that did not belong to him or anyone he knew was parked in the driveway, the driver side door open. Aidan sped up for the last few feet, screeching to a halt into the space next to the stranger vehicle. He hopped out and looked in through the window. The keys still plugged in the ignition, along with a large leather purse in the passenger seat, and a can of diet soda.
Aidan rushed around the car to his son that stood when he came into view, and then met him half-way.
"Jeff," Aidan said, "What're you doing?"
"I don't want to go inside. The lady scares me."
Aidan's green eyes turned to look at the house. The front door stood only slightly ajar.
"What woman, son?"
Jeff merely shrugged, playing with his right ear, a simple clue that told his father he was upset.
"What I want you to do is to sit in my car and lock the doors. Do you understand?"
Jeffrey nodded and held his hand out for the car keys, which his father produced from his pocket and set them into his tiny palm. The young boy did as his father instructed and rounded the end of the Aidan's dinged and scratched pick-up.
Aidan faced the house and braced himself.
The next thing Aidan noticed, as he pushed open the door, was that the deadbolt still held the key in place. The very same key Aidan had just placed beneath the bear statue for Jeffrey this morning.
"Hello?" he called out, his body tensing.
Sprinkled through the house, like a trail of bread crumbs, were women's clothes. He followed them into the family room where he found the mexican woman sitting on the couch, wrapped in a purple blanket, sipping on a juice box held delicately in one hand and holding a bottle of Beer in the other.
"What're you doing?" she said, her brow furrowed.
Aiden repeated the question before he said, "This is my house!"
The woman failed to show any response that she understood. Instead she sat silently, taking another long sip from the straw.
He looked around the room with wide eyes, checking to see if anything was misplaced or taken.
"You need to leave," He said suddenly.
The woman stopped drinking and glared at him.
"Dead Pastor Skip and the ghost told me to come here."
"What?" Aidan said. "Who is pastor skip?"
The woman stood, the blanket falling off of her curved shoulders. Luckily she still wore a red set of bra and panties. In any other circumstance he may have found this exciting but in this very moment he could not. Then there was the fact that she was definitely older than his taste.
"You don't go to Soul Factory?"
"No I don't." He stumbled over words as he tried to find the right ones. "This is my house. Please get dressed and go home."
"The ghost told me to come here."
"I really don't care." He started to pull out his phone. "What's your name, I'm calling the police."
"Can I use the bathroom first?"
Aidan was dumbfounded and annoyed.
"Fine," he said.
The woman made her way without any instruction.
"Do they use the bathroom?" She said, turning back to him at the entry to the hall.
"Who's they?"
"The two ghosts that live here."
"Yeah," he said, "All the time, it's their room."
"Oh, okay," she said blandly. "Can I use the bathroom?"
"I told you yes," Aidan barked.
The woman ignored him and instead answered by entering the bathroom.
Aidan dialed 911 and walked into the kitchen as it rang. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
"Hello, what is your emergency?"
"Yes, a strange woman walked into my house while I was gone and she's still here. She won't leave."
"Do you know the woman?"
"No."
There was a flurry of sharp clicks on the other end.
"Where are you calling from?"
He told her his location and sighed. He popped the metallic cap of the bottle and took a long gulp.
He turned and the woman stood at the end of the counter. Fully naked, her purse clutched in both hands at her chest.
"Please hurry," he said and hung up the phone.
"What happened to your underwear?"
The woman upended her purse and poured it's contents onto the tile surface. A crushed box of cigarettes, a lighter, gold earrings, necklace adorned with jewels, a leather luis vutton wallet, and a bag of a mysterious powder. Suddenly all of this made since to him.
The woman tossed her bag to the side and grabbed her wallet. She pulled out her license and held it inches from Aidan's face. He took a defensive step back. Then when she didn't move he took the card from her and looked at it. She turned and began walking around the house.
He picked up his phone and took a photo of the license and then the woman, staring into the corner of the room.
She lifted a finger and began drawing shapes in the air.
Glancing at the license again Aiden took note of the address. It was clear on the other side of town.
When he looked up again she was gone. He rushed from room to room trying to find her but she was gone, along with all of her clothes. When he went outside her car too was nowhere to be found.
Jeffrey sat in the driver's side, crouched on his knees, his body turned toward the window.
Word Count: 977
End time: 10:40
For whatever reason I have decided to begin NaNoWriMo a month early. I guess I just wanted an extra day to bear some of the weight from the ultimate goal of a novel length work of fiction at 50,000 words. The other thing that confuses me is why I chose to do it publicly. Already I am sweating and going crazy fearing what people will say and think. Like any good writer I'm a perfectionist.(Mother of god, what was I thinking.) But I made a broad statement on my twitter and regardless of who reads it I made a promise and I want to stick to my word.
My internal mantra has been "just do it." I'm sure anyone that has done NaNoWriMo in the past knows how it works. The basic idea is to hit the allotted number of words; which for me stands at 1,612 since I have a whole extra day. I'm not supposed to re-read, or try and fix what I've written. It's just going. Like the website says: it's a sprint, not a marathon.
This exercise is not concentrated on the ultimate goal of a polished work of fiction. That of course comes later. This is PURELY a chance to get the words down that constantly bounce about in my thoughts. So... here I go.
Day 1 of 31.
Goal: 1,612 words
Start time: 9:15
When Aidan Palmer turned onto Tarotwood Lane, facing his house that sat at the end of the cul-de-sac street, two things were glaringly wrong. His eight year old son Jeffrey sat on the curb by himself, with his knees in his chest, in front of their home and a car that did not belong to him or anyone he knew was parked in the driveway, the driver side door open. Aidan sped up for the last few feet, screeching to a halt into the space next to the stranger vehicle. He hopped out and looked in through the window. The keys still plugged in the ignition, along with a large leather purse in the passenger seat, and a can of diet soda.
Aidan rushed around the car to his son that stood when he came into view, and then met him half-way.
"Jeff," Aidan said, "What're you doing?"
"I don't want to go inside. The lady scares me."
Aidan's green eyes turned to look at the house. The front door stood only slightly ajar.
"What woman, son?"
Jeff merely shrugged, playing with his right ear, a simple clue that told his father he was upset.
"What I want you to do is to sit in my car and lock the doors. Do you understand?"
Jeffrey nodded and held his hand out for the car keys, which his father produced from his pocket and set them into his tiny palm. The young boy did as his father instructed and rounded the end of the Aidan's dinged and scratched pick-up.
Aidan faced the house and braced himself.
The next thing Aidan noticed, as he pushed open the door, was that the deadbolt still held the key in place. The very same key Aidan had just placed beneath the bear statue for Jeffrey this morning.
"Hello?" he called out, his body tensing.
Sprinkled through the house, like a trail of bread crumbs, were women's clothes. He followed them into the family room where he found the mexican woman sitting on the couch, wrapped in a purple blanket, sipping on a juice box held delicately in one hand and holding a bottle of Beer in the other.
"What're you doing?" she said, her brow furrowed.
Aiden repeated the question before he said, "This is my house!"
The woman failed to show any response that she understood. Instead she sat silently, taking another long sip from the straw.
He looked around the room with wide eyes, checking to see if anything was misplaced or taken.
"You need to leave," He said suddenly.
The woman stopped drinking and glared at him.
"Dead Pastor Skip and the ghost told me to come here."
"What?" Aidan said. "Who is pastor skip?"
The woman stood, the blanket falling off of her curved shoulders. Luckily she still wore a red set of bra and panties. In any other circumstance he may have found this exciting but in this very moment he could not. Then there was the fact that she was definitely older than his taste.
"You don't go to Soul Factory?"
"No I don't." He stumbled over words as he tried to find the right ones. "This is my house. Please get dressed and go home."
"The ghost told me to come here."
"I really don't care." He started to pull out his phone. "What's your name, I'm calling the police."
"Can I use the bathroom first?"
Aidan was dumbfounded and annoyed.
"Fine," he said.
The woman made her way without any instruction.
"Do they use the bathroom?" She said, turning back to him at the entry to the hall.
"Who's they?"
"The two ghosts that live here."
"Yeah," he said, "All the time, it's their room."
"Oh, okay," she said blandly. "Can I use the bathroom?"
"I told you yes," Aidan barked.
The woman ignored him and instead answered by entering the bathroom.
Aidan dialed 911 and walked into the kitchen as it rang. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
"Hello, what is your emergency?"
"Yes, a strange woman walked into my house while I was gone and she's still here. She won't leave."
"Do you know the woman?"
"No."
There was a flurry of sharp clicks on the other end.
"Where are you calling from?"
He told her his location and sighed. He popped the metallic cap of the bottle and took a long gulp.
He turned and the woman stood at the end of the counter. Fully naked, her purse clutched in both hands at her chest.
"Please hurry," he said and hung up the phone.
"What happened to your underwear?"
The woman upended her purse and poured it's contents onto the tile surface. A crushed box of cigarettes, a lighter, gold earrings, necklace adorned with jewels, a leather luis vutton wallet, and a bag of a mysterious powder. Suddenly all of this made since to him.
The woman tossed her bag to the side and grabbed her wallet. She pulled out her license and held it inches from Aidan's face. He took a defensive step back. Then when she didn't move he took the card from her and looked at it. She turned and began walking around the house.
He picked up his phone and took a photo of the license and then the woman, staring into the corner of the room.
She lifted a finger and began drawing shapes in the air.
Glancing at the license again Aiden took note of the address. It was clear on the other side of town.
When he looked up again she was gone. He rushed from room to room trying to find her but she was gone, along with all of her clothes. When he went outside her car too was nowhere to be found.
Jeffrey sat in the driver's side, crouched on his knees, his body turned toward the window.
Word Count: 977
End time: 10:40
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