DAY TWO - 2009

ta da… Day one is done (for most of us..) and onto Day Two!

Our inspiration and guide for Day Two is another lovely card:

The Princess of Cups

Earth aspect of water, emotional freedom, jealousy conquered, trust in the self.

The Princess of Cups is a dancing figure, free, not imprisoned by emotions. She is surrounded by grace, kindness and clarity. The distance she has taken from herself makes it possible for her love to unfold in its purest form. The past can be seen with clarity and can be brought to completion.

The suggestion is to trust your feelings and perceptions: you are on the right path. All that is preventing you from being fully free can be let go of now. Imagine yourself surrounded by water and that you are dancing the dance of salvation and freedom…. the more you love yourself, the more you can share with others.
—————

So… onward and forward everyone, you are on the right path. Don't compare yourself to others, your path is yours alone, you are unique, your writing is unique, and the route to putting it on paper is particular to you. If it takes you the whole month to find one true sentence, it will be perfect. And  if you don't find that true sentence, it will still be perfect.

We all dance our own dance, and each dance is beautiful and absolutely 'right'.

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Hi Sandra and top o' the morning! I'm done with yesterday now. What an awesome thread that was. Night time here. Toodle-oo! Thanks for doing this again. So how are you getting the cards, just pulling them at random? Princess of Cups rocks.

xoxo

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yeah its a work day and I did typing on the train, (to work and back to home) i am at 3334

feeling a bit stressy as i need a sitter for my youngest so we can watch Wicked on Saturday then i realised i may not get much typing done on the weekend as i will have people over. so will have to wait and see… i am thinking about doing more sessions at night to make it up.

the witch is in the story and she has assaulted the sweet and pretty (yet deadly) water sprites. (kinda Labyrinth style ala Hoggle) the bad company keeps coming!

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Azyh - First, let me say how brave it is that you posted an excerpt from your writing.  I'm am way too much of a chicken to post anything I'm writing.  Even though I have a big word count, I'm absolutely sure it's all garbage.  I'm doing this more to prove to myself it can be done, rather than investing anything in the end result.  For me, it's all about word count, and discipline.  I've never been too good at following-through, especially when it comes to my writing, so this NaNo exercise is good practice.

I loved it when you said ”She wore a nasty frown as if the world was never going to be good enough for her.”  That creates such a visual image, and tells you more than you were expecting to learn about the character.  Great use of phrasing.

I hear your hesitancy about whether anyone else might “get it”, and all I can say to that is that I hope you'll write what feels the most true to you, and leave the reader out of the equation for once.  Easier for me to say, than to do.  But every time I hear myself censoring one direction or another, I sort of mumble to myself, and repeat the mantra “just write whatever shows up, and trust the process”.  Just let it flow, Azyh.  Goldilocks or not, just let it flow.

Thanks for sharing some words of encouragement for all.  Those of you that are juggling jobs and kids and spouses and other time constraints are amazing.  Keep finding your moments of time, and keep those word counts coming!

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Trudiluu you two!!!! Whee.

Wonderful, I am on my way to work after I ctched up on Day one thread, whoasa!
Tom, how is your gypsy mouse doing? I think that I will try to do like you did last year, only just about the day amount of typing per day… that made me hang over my computer yeaterday in antipatiation (??) oh when oh when starts the day 2. And here it is!

See you laters. And hugs mmmmmmnh

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Hey Nono, mouse news on Day 1 thread. Have a great day 2!

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Hello, ladies and gents.  Glad to see everyone here at Day Two.  Sandra, thanks for starting us off with The Princess of Cups.  Emotional freedom, and trust in the self.  That sounds like a good place to begin the day.  Well, with me being a night writer, (not to be confused with a Knight Rider), here it is at the end of Day Two for me, and I’ll have to say, I’m totally surprised.  Blown away. 
 
I have a history of good beginnings, and mostly-absent endings, so I don’t want to celebrate too soon.  Maybe, in a way, that’s why I’m pushing myself hard, here at the beginning.  Maybe I better store up a ton of extra word count now, before this train loses steam.   At the end of Day One, I had unexpectedly racked up 4300, so I took that as my cue, and now my own personal challenge is to try to hit 4300 each day, for as long as possible.  With that said, I ended Day Two at 8750, a little over my personal goal.
 
On the Day One thread I talked a bit about how hard it was to begin yesterday, but that once I finally let go of my fear of the blank page staring back at me, that I was finally able to make some progress.  Then, in an unexpected twist, the story took a turn off into a direction that had nothing to do with my original idea.  Rather than struggle against it to stay on the expected path, I just let the story spin in any direction, and tried to follow along.
 
Now, in Day Two, and at 8750, I have a sort of framework that is a bit more manageable.  In the newer version of the story, I’m writing about an author that is struggling against a deadline.  She publishes under an assumed name, and has written a series of romance novels that feature the same central character in each.  As she forces her way to get words onto the screen in her latest novel, she constantly fluctuates between mismatched memories, some belonging to her, and some belonging to her character.  Her own memories toggle back and forth from present time to days gone by, and she finds herself getting lost between the three worlds … her present day, her past, and her character’s past.
 
Interestingly enough, even though this has nothing to do with where I thought this was going to be headed, this approach has given me three distinct story lines to play with.  If I get stifled in one, I just try switching to the other for a while.  The hardest part for me so far has been keeping track of the characters that move from one storyline to the next.  Present day people don’t exist in the character’s story line, and past tense people have no place in the present.  Keeping the names and associations is a challenge.  I may have to start graphing it out a bit, just to try to keep it straight.
 
I have no idea where it’s going, but somehow or another I think it will wind up circling back around to my original story idea (about a past that brings with it unexpected pockets of pain, but told in a satirical or humorous way).  My character has already developed a sharp tongue, so she could really go in any direction from here.  Scathing, or vulnerable.  Or some of both.  Not sure.
 
As I read over the Day One comments, (and now Day Two as well), I have to say that I’m so appreciative that this NaNo group is here on DD.  I don’t think I would be doing this without knowing that I have somewhere to go to share the journey, so thanks to everyone for sharing their own writing realities.  I especially loved what Sandra said when she said, “If it takes you the whole month to find one true sentence, it will be perfect. And if you don't find that true sentence, it will still be perfect.”
 
NaNo is new to me.  Last year, and the year before, I couldn’t push myself to participate.  My hat is off to each of you that have jumped in not only this year, but any year.  As for me, this year, I’m unemployed, and have a lot of time on my hands.  This NaNo experience is helping me purge some of the nervous energy that comes with being uncertain about what comes next.  I also am notoriously the worst insomniac, so most of my writing happens between 1am and 4am, when most folks are sleeping peacefully (or with words swirling in their dreams).
 
If it wasn’t for all of you, I would have been afraid to tackle NaNo.  Thanks for being there.  I may not write another word, or I may surprise myself and keep racking up crazy numbers.  Either way, I’ve already proven one thing that I needed to know.  It really IS possible to make something from nothing.  That’s good to know.
 
Hang in there!

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Hey there ntexas – Look at you go! Cheers and kudos to you! I'm a night writer too; in fact it's now 2:24 in the morning, and I'm thinking I should call it a “night” for today, if you catch my drift. (IOW, it's the night of my “Day One”).

I'm off to a sluggish start myself at around 1300 words, but it's a start. And tomorrow's a new day …

Flowing Cups of creativity to you all,

Mary

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maryw - hi there, fellow night owler!  Good work on that word count.  Thanks for the kudos.  I'm calling it a night myself (with it being 5 a.m. on Day Two for me).  Who knows what tomorrow will bring?  Either way, it's nice to meet another night owl that's tackling the NaNo challenge.  Good luck to all!

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Wow ntexas, that is a successfull start. Good work! And think also the amount of words you put out here as well :)
it seems like you have find the true freefall method there and writing organically. And I agree with you, not many of us would do this thing if it wasn't for the many of us.

I just sneaked in 1000 words during a slow period here at my work so my total count for the moment is 3187. I think that I will pass 4000 today pretty easy. I have decided to throw in the heavy artillery already day 2, a spaceship!
Yes, it will interrupt the sweet seduction of the Emperess and make the story totally waco.

Wasn't it a quote somewhere by someone famous that: ”If nothing happens bring the gunmen in!” And that is preciesly what I intend to do. I am pretty excited about the spaceship, what are they and what do they want? Why are they there? The entire fonting W-word suite! I bet my caracters will shit in their pants if they had any on, ha ha ha.

This is really funny, I enjoy this years NaNo, I will let myself go jump around like a mayhem woman on genre-crack, I mean, how many different genres can I weave in same book? Gotta make some kind of record on that! Super!

Raah raah raa, ta daa!

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A spaceship, trés cool, Nono! So glad you're working on something lighthearted this Nano. Have fun with it!

xoxo

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Hurray for everyone typing onwards!  Just found this thread… didn't even know we had day-by-day comments going. Lovely to see Tarot dropping in, too.
I want to ditto ntexas' on thanking you all for being here. Without you, I don't think I would have “tackled the NaNo challenge” myself.

Unfortunately, I'm sort of stuck now in my writing… I just seem so pedantic and boring… but I'll try to keep my place and ponder on. 
Going to work now this morning - hopefully I can jot some notes down today and use them tonight as I catch up.
Have a great day, everyone!
WPL

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Meenakshi, just wanted to say “WAY TO GO!!” for sticking in there and writing and getting so many words when you thought you were only going to be taking baby steps.  How very cool!!  Now maybe you're in love with your story and it will just keep coming forth in little bursts.

maryw, ntexas99 and andrea are all night owls~~and maybe the rest of us are day owls.  I would love to be writing right now but must work for several hours on the day job before it's time to see what is happening in Anneke's life.  Last I knew she was headed north on a train to Henry Ford's model town in Michigan's Upper Peninsula around 1932.  Her head was filled with a lot of memories as the full moon rose orange on the horizon and the engine whined up the steep slopes and her derriere hurt.  I figured a woman in 1932 had a derriere.

Happy writing, all!

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Azyh, I very much liked reading your excerpt. Didn't find it boring at all. I love the strange way the witch talks. It's a wonderful way to underline the oddness of a character with something exclusively typical. (Mental note to author!) (That was just my intuitve assistant taking notes. She is pulling inspiration and ideas from absolutely everywhere).  ;)

I woke up to a minor miracle this morning, actually looking forward to starting to write as soon as everybody was out of the house. Wrote some more 400 words on what I started yesterday. It went better, but still felt kind of stale. Something was missing.

I did some yoga, took a shower, had breakfast, then cleaned my carpet and it started to happen when I was vacuuming. Suddenly I knew who was going to be my main character. Not the singer, but her friend, the lesbian drummer of the band! I started all over. New beginning, new story. And things started taking shape.

I have a handful of characters who form a band. I have names and instruments and first ideas. Everything else will be part of the process. Who these people are, how they interact, what the conflicts will be, who loves whom, who betrays whom… whatever occurs. All of the sudden I have what was missing. I'm in love with my characters and the universe of possibilities that has opened up as soon as I got a sense of my I-character. Who she is, how she tells the story. What the story is (well, I have no idea what the story is, but you know, got a glimpse of the first interesting developments and that's all it takes, isn't it?)

A total of 2374 words after this mornings session. I'm still going pretty slow compared to my usual speed and that feels oh so good.

Had the revolutionary thought that I don't even HAVE to make 50.000 words!  :)  Hey, now that's a thought! Maybe I actually start having fun with writing for a change…

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Excerpt of the beginning of “Bird Steps”:

As a child I used to love fairy tales. Especially those with pricesses in them. Beautiful, noble, loveable princesses who were saved by beautiful, noble and brave princes. He would see them. And love them. Marry them, as far as I was concerned, if they had to. I was dispassionate about the marriage part. As long as they just found each other.

Aunt Gertrud had to read “The princess on the pea” over and over. I could lip sync “Sleeping beauty”. I wasn't too keen on “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” because the prince only appears towards the end, but I loved the kissing scene at the glass casket. And Cinderella!

Every night when aunt Gertrud was home and didn't have to  go working night shift she'd read the ever same fairy tales to me. She would sit at the side of my bed, the reading lamp shining brightly on the book in her hand, the rest of the room lying in the dark. Her reading glasses balanced on the tip of her nose, her pale and tired face half lit, half in the dark she sat, her body a bent like a question mark, and read my favorite stories in her uneventful way. Then she gave me one of her dry kisses on my forehead and shuffled out of my room. And I would turn around, satisfied and dreamy, cuddle my feather bed and beam myself straight into a fairy tale land full of longing, love and fulfillment. In my fairy tale land of true love I was the prince.

How I wish this were the story of Ella and Karo and how they lived happily ever after. I would have married her if she'd wanted to. She could have had any ritual, or ceremony and whatever legal commitment possible. But helas, it's the story of Ella and Mikesh instead, and how everything that was special and precious and beautiful in my life went south.

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Morning to All!
I just wanted to pop in and say congrats to everyone for hanging in there and the novels that are being written sound rich and lush and amazing!  Me - I'm doing the short story thing and it's been a lot of fun, especially when I've not slid into “edit” mode.  I just write and write and keep telling myself not to look backwards at what I've already written but forwards into what wants to written next.
Have a great writing day, everyone!!
poetjo

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If this isn't the 'Waaahhh Who Gang' 
 Azyh.. I think your fairy tale is great.  You have pulled me right in.  thanks for the share.  
I'm busting away at my novel.. So far so good.  I'm on a mission and a joining with the energy of all of you on this NaNo trip.  I am inspired by you all and that keeps me diving in again and again..
Thank you.  you're amazing.
The princess of cups also reminds me of enchantment.  She is a watery goddess of the heart.  She serves her suit by exploring it's watery qualities.  
I like the idea of swooning with her and letting enchantment fill me with awe.  give myself to the awe-ness of the day.  See it in the world around me.

may you all dance in the hand of the princess of cups.
xoxoxo your breathh

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i hope it is Ok for me to stop in and add some words even though i cannot participate this year.  Since i felt it my duty last year, i will again share that i do not understand how and whty anyone woyld cal their writing crap, garbage, junk or any other fomr of trash. It is creative writing and came from inside us- how can  it be crap or boring?  Why speak of something inside yourself with such contemp and hatred?

Your work is not crap!

Write on!

Peace,
michael

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Michael, that was the most appropriate meaning ever! Amen to your add bro! The truth speaks with simple straightforward tongue.

I wait to hear about your adventures when you have the opportunity to jot them down. Wish you where here :)

Love xoxox
Nono

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Hey Michael, good to see you here. Are you really in Mongolia? Sorry to hear you ain't got the time for Nano this year, but in honor of last year I'll put in a valuable quote from you in one of the day threads:
Watch where you dive, there are rocks where you cannot see them, they can bruise and break your bones without warning. They can also shake off the old layers of skin and fat that are not necessary nor supportive of your journey as writer, friend, lover, or human. So dive, and then dive again and again. The waters are healing and fresh. Go ahead and dive with your eyes closed but open. Dive deeper. The force of the river will carry you to your destination clean, scraped, and scrubbed. Dive deeper.
~ Michael Swerdloff

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Wow, I love that quote, thanks for posting it, Tom.

Michael: Why speak of something inside yourself with such contemp and hatred?

Oh god, and isn't this a thing I tell myself and tell myself and still catch myself doing (not just in relation to writing)? But at least there's awareness now, where there wasn't before. Thanks for the pep talk.

So glad you're here keeping an eye on us, even if you can't do the 50 000 this year…

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Oh Tom and Micheal ~ I so needed to read this uplifting thought

“The force of the river will carry you to your destination clean, scraped, and scrubbed. Dive deeper.” 

YES! and thank you

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i am here, just not posting writing:)

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well, this morning was far more hectic than I expected - my youngest woke up feeling wretched again so she is home from school but later today after work I will get to work, maybe even a little bit at lunch during my break who knows.

Here's a little excerpt from my story.. “Birds and Invented Cages”


Lila sat at the window in her usual place. The trees were practically bare after the wind and rain the night before. Yellow waves of leaves blew, tumbling over themselves up the road. The lawn in the front yard was still full of them. She would have to rake later, she thought, but not now. Lila didn't have the energy to get up and find her boots or sweater. Instead, she pulled the worn black sketch book that she kept her letters in and started to write.

Sunday, November 1

Dear Malcolm,
There are days left. I realized this morning when I woke up that it has been a very long time since I last wrote you. I know you don’t mind if I write or if I don’t, that you know how things are for me, but I realized this morning how much I have missed writing to you. There is no reason to go through every single detail of the past twenty five years, but I imagine that those details will come up from time to time. Whatever comes up while I am writing to you, I know that you will listen quietly and offer your support as you have always. That is a great comfort to me.
 This conversation with you is so long over due. I remember the last dream I had with you. I found you sitting on the beach, surrounded with brilliant white sand and breaking open fruit to put on a wooden tray that was next to you. I was in the water, walking towards you. The water was impossibly blue and crystal clear. I could see fish swimming around me. You asked me to come to you and sit, but I had to move around slowly, to avoid stepping on the fish that instinctively I knew were poisonous and dangerous. It took some time but eventually I found my way to you. The entire time though you were talking with me, chuckling as you often do, in a low rumbling voice like soft thunder on a late summer evening. It seemed we talked for hours that night. I still remember what you showed me;  the tall pillar that you carved for me. The story of my life was carved there, every detail that I had written to you, every story that I had told you, the stories that I didn’t tell you and even the stories I have yet to tell. I was sad that morning after waking up because suddenly you were no longer there with me, and I did not have time to see every side of the pillar. I realise now it doesn’t matter what I didn’t see. I saw what I needed to see.

I suppose in many ways this letter is a new beginning between us.  Thank you for always being here. I hope that I will make you proud.
Lila
~
11:05am
Dear Malcolm

The radio is buzzing. I don’t know why I turned it on. The cat has come down, the one that just started showing up at the door. I let her adopt me. She isn’t the friendliest of cats, doesn’t like to be touched. It must be the result of the life that she’s had, wandering through the streets without a home of her own. I guess she didn’t need one until she found my door. She never comes down to sleep in my room, but tonight, here she is. She disappeared into the other room when I started writing. I didn’t notice her coming back until she was suddenly beside me, paw up and tapping me daintily on the shoulder to get my attention.
 It is strange. Her eyes are wide and green, trying to tell me something. I didn’t know what she wanted, and went back to writing again, and she tapped me a second time on the shoulder. Reluctantly I started scratching her on the head, right behind her ears. After some minutes, she finally has allowed me to get back to writing. She is settled down beside me, leaning against my legs under the blanket.  It feels like she is guarding me from something, someone. She isn’t sleeping, but is staring at the corner. The corner of course is empty, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of the walls. I hope she does relax soon because it is starting to creep me out, her staring. What is she guarding me from? Why? She just turned and looked at me as if to give me the answer. I don’t speak cat. I tell her in my head that I am getting back to writing now, and she turns back to the wall and continues staring. I would feel better if she went to sleep. At least that would keep me from wondering what was there in the corner staring back.
Lila
~
Conversations through the glass
Sitting at the window
Watching the last leaves dance
On the branches, nearly bare
The ending becomes the beginning
While the wind plays another song
Through the cracks and holes
Of this Old house
~
 3:42pm
I didn’t mean to write to you again today. I have been listening to the wind, and the rain has just started to fall. It’s a cold November night. The house is empty and I don’t feel like going out into the darkness. I would rather sit here with the firelight and continue these letters. I am curious. I found the box of the old letters that I wrote to you, all those years ago. I cannot bring myself to read them. At least, I cannot do that yet. Maybe one day soon I will. It will be like opening up an old journal. Will I recognize the person who wrote them? I wonder. Mr. Fitzmaurice once said that when we write, whether it is for others or for ourselves, going back and reading what we wrote, especially after a long period of time… there is a risk of not being able to recognize the person that we once were. That makes me a bit scared to open the box. I don’t know exactly who I will find in there. You, though, you never seem to change. Even as I am sitting here in the growing night, I can feel you. You are just the same. Is this how it always is? I wonder.

Tonight I am filled with questions, but am afraid to write them out. I am afraid of the answers. I know that I am. I need to be brave and just ask you. Later I will do that.

Now, the wind has picked up. The winds are rattling in their old wooden casements. Hal came by yesterday and put on the storm windows. I am happy that he did. I don’t think it will be too much longer before the snow flies. My fingers are crossed. I do love the winter, when everything is blanketed in white, but it is the cold that I cannot bear these days. It gets into my bones and freezes me from the inside out. This winter I am sure that I will become a frozen lolly waiting for the mail or coming in from the car. Who knows. I miss the summer. We didn’t really have one this year. Too much rain, too many chilly winds. Everything is changing so quickly. I think maybe that is why I have started to write to you again. The change is coming so quickly, too quickly for my liking and I am holding on to what is important before it all gets swept away.

You know though why I stopped writing, right? That is the first question that I need to ask tonight, the one that I am afraid to know the answer to. I hope that the answer is yes. Many times I have thought about you, talked to you even in my head, but writing became too painful. No it wasn’t the writing, it was the words themselves that were too painful to commit to paper. I remember those days as though they happened yesterday. They didn’t. It was a very long time ago, I realize. 
 ~

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

oooo i speak too soon re resistance

its 1am day 3 and i am up with a tooth ache, will need a dentist real soon
i wonder how this is loving me? the answer is there somewhere
maybe i am just not meant to go to work today??
maybe i am meant to write instead?

thank you all for being here and thank you michael for the reminder
the creative is amazing, the creative is amazing, the creative is amazing

kisses to all the ouchies

is this my bones talking or what? well i have meditation, i have crystal massage wands and i have a book on reflexology. i am going to sleep and i am going to the dentist in the morning (god willing a place spare) o later morning when the sun is up morning. and i am going to write! maybe this is good physical motivation to step into the big bad wolf and get his side of the story ? i could really tap into this pain as his grumpiness…. got to use what i got don't i?

xx write on! write inn! font the pain!

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Oh Azyh, how this thought inspires me:

…maybe this is good physical motivation to step into the big bad wolf and get his side of the story ? i could really tap into this pain as his grumpiness…. got to use what i got don't i?

Yes to pouring our authentic energy, what ever it is, into our write. Bravo!
Luvs

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LA, that is way too creepy for me… what the heck is going on? WHAT IS GOING ON???

I had a cat like that, a cat that moved in to us and who “spoke” to me allthough I didn't understand. A half wild cat who moved in our house, just like that, adopted me and my daughter. Her name was Lucky and she was all silvergrey (they call the colour for blue) with huge green eyes.

TWILIGHT MUSIC big time!

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hehehe Nono - here this is a photo of mine… she adopted me several years ago. Angel is her name.

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oh, what I wouldn't do to have Angel purring on my lap right now, la….

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That cat bit was awesome, la. Hope we get to find out what's in the corner!

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You are all doing amazingly! So wonderful :-)) I loved reading all the excerpts. They are all so very unique and different.

I've been ill in bed most of the day, unable to write or do anything at all really. I did finally get some done this afternoon, a plodding 1851 words on the theme I 'planned' and a much more fun 500 words on The Sheep.

Wildwood Planet Lady: Unfortunately, I'm sort of stuck now in my writing… I just seem so pedantic and boring… but I'll try to keep my place and ponder on.

That's where I am and I'm just 'with' it. I forced the words down, one after the other. I reminded myself about the million word thing - that it takes a million words to really gain the skill of a writer. So whatever I write goes towards my million words. Never worry about just pondering on, it's the only way sometimes.

I might have to take a tip from the rest of you and write something different however. I'm finding NaNo very hard right now to tell you the truth, my body and my mind feel so uncomfortable.

Azyh: oh, your tooth, I'm so sorry. I hope you get that dentist. Remember my last Nano when I was in Amsterdam with a raging tooth infection??? hmm. And I'm remembering some symbolic stuff about teeth ( 'old stuff')? Anyway, lots of love and hoping you feel much better soon.

Michael: Lovely to have you with us. I feel your warm guidance all the way ( from Mongolia??)

Sending love to all. I'm sorry if I'm not here as much as I'd like. Hopefully this bug will blow over soon.
xo

Here is an excerpt of the less-fun material (for me to write):

Hey great, Mark said as he walked in, his long hair stuck to his cheek like strands of seaweed. He was soaked through, his wet jeans making dark puddles on the floor. He walked straight to the table and gathered a handful of still-warm crunchies, almost putting the lot in his mouth at once. He grinned at Sue, crumbs sticking to his wet chin. She tried to act mad but ended up giggling and thumping him not very hard on his arm. Then Roy fell into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, shouting, Christ! his body letting off a steam of damp-wool and sweat smell. Something smells good, he said and Susie mumbled, Not you, under her breath, Mark raised his eyebrows at her and stifled a laugh. Roy reached for a crunchie but she pulled the plate away just in time. They're for dessert, she said. Suppers in a minute. Don't want to spoil your appetite she said, making her voice sweet. It wasn't that she disliked him, she just wanted this space for herself, for the people she felt closest to and it wasn't him even though he was her uncle.
    Sue loved it here in Diana's cottage in Port, inspite of the outdoor toilet and the damp walls and the mouldy smell and the cramped one room kitchen-living room and small hard beds crammed into their dark bedroom. She always felt adult here, with Diana and John talking to her as if she were adult, her mother even settling as if by osmosis into an easy way with her. Even Susie felt less grumpy, less irritated with her mother. But she was pleased she wasn't with them this time. The addition of Roy was a slight thorn as Mark tended to ignore her when he was around, treating her even more like a stupid adolescent sister than usual.
    Here, have one of mine, Mark said, handing Roy a half-eaten crunchie and turning his back on Sue. It was as if she'd been slapped. The warm tentacle of brother-sister communication evaporating into the muggy air of the darkening cottage. A storm was brewing, no wonder it had been so windy out there. The windows rattled, and Diana rushed around battening things down, pulling the thick tweed curtains closed to stop draughts, lighting the oil lamps and the candles. It turned the room into a magical place, a place where wild winds and hammering rain outside were almost welcome, making her feel safe and cosy inside, the perfect place to be on a storm-blown mountain in Donegal. Even the mould tinged peat smokey air smelled good.


 

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

ps. about the Tarot Card picks. They are specifically drawn with us here in mind. I sit for a moment and tune in, shuffle, and then pick one.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Thanks Sandra, I always love to learn about process, and it's good to know the universe is in charge of our cards. Hope you feel better soon. I know what you mean about having probs with Nano this year. Last year I was totally into it, but this year not so much. I've kinda lost my writing gumption. Not sure I have enough jollity to put into a kid's book. Who cares about mice? Not me. May just write and see what comes out. Will try to keep up with word count but not caring that much about that either.

Hmmm….

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Just keep on typing TomTom! Keep on typing, the magic will come back to you, belive and it will come! I want you here. And sheeze, if the mice don't dice then slice and spice. Do something, as we women usefully say to men.
I'm all split here. It's not an easy task to be in love and flirt at the same time you try to write a book, shit, that's prolly the worst obstacle ever! I'm lost!!!

Procasto mayhem, it's here at my place, now.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Sandra, I was wondering what deck you're using—the images are awesome.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Hi again, all.  It's so good to see you guys popping in to share what's going on with your writing.  As I read your posts, half the time I'm nodding my head in agreement.  Yep, I get what you're saying.  Uh-huh.

To michaelsits - as to your question “Why speak of something inside yourself with such contemp and hatred?” ….. the best answer I can give to that, is that I have a lifetime of doing exactly that.  Hard to break the habit.  When I said that everything I write is garbage, I was half being flippant or funny, and half hedging my bets, I suppose.  Easier to take if I'm the first one to point to it and say it has no merit, than wait for someone else to state the obvious.  But I certainly hear your point that we need to honor ANYTHING that is borne from our creative center, so thanks for the words of encouragment.

After seeing several of you post excerpts, it seems rude not to do the same, so here's a short excerpt, (with some of the more graphic bits etched out):

—————

Sure, you WANT to come up with the next big blockbuster (don’t you?), but your mind is wandering in every direction, or no direction at all, and all you can really think about are the breakfast tacos you didn’t finish this morning that are waiting for you … calling out to you … urging you to get out of your chair and head to the kitchen and throw one or two in the microwave.  Uhhhmmm, wouldn’t a good bean and cheese with bacon or a carne guisada taco be pretty good, right about now?  All hot and melty from the microwave?  With something cold to drink to go with it?
 
Sh**!  Get your brain back on track, Dyana!  What the hell?  You’ve already spent almost all the advance on who knows what, and you haven’t even written a single word yet.  There are people at home just waiting for the next Gabriella Lanella book to hit the shelves, and here you sit, thinking about day old breakfast tacos.  Get a grip already.  Good grief.
 
As she swipes her hands through her hair, yet another time, in frustration, Dyana half shrugs her shoulders.  She wonders if maybe she should just pick up where she left off, but that seems so EXPECTED and ORDINARY.  She’d much rather come up with something fresh, or bold, or even something outlandishly unexpected that people will still be talking about years later.  Something scandalous, or grotesque, or frighteningly unorthodox. 
 
Anything but more of the same.  She’s tired of writing about the life of Belinda Christiansen, the world-traveling antiques dealer.  How many times can Belinda meet the tall, dark, handsome foreigner, only to fall into an “unexpected” and illicit affair, and then come to her senses just in time to fly back home to Jameson, her adoring and philandering husband?  Even Dyana is tired of their marriage by now.  Too many “she storms out in anger” and “he draws her close for a heated embrace” and how many times (really, how many?) can Jameson walk in just moments after Belinda has stepped out of the shower, fresh from another tryst with whatever flavor of the month happens to be in this episode? 
 
Good grief, with all the sex that Belinda sees between the pages of Dyana’s (or Gabriella’s, whichever way you look at it), series of books about her adventures, you would think the girl had had enough by now.  But nooooooo, she’s always sniffing around, keeping her eyes open for the next steamy hunk to smuggle into her bed ….
 
Sh**, Dyana!  Get it together!  What, now you’re horny?  Just thinking about the mythical Jameson can sometimes get her hot.  One thing can be said for being the one behind the keyboard – you get to have the characters play out whatever fantasy or scenario you want.  Well, truthfully, every now and then the characters take control and she just has to race to keep up, but for the most part, she can wave the magic wand in any direction she wants. 
 
Hungry for a Latino stud that’s heavy on machismo and likes to play a little rough?  No problem!  Before you know it, Belinda is on her way to Argentina, or Spain, or even Cuba.  Ohhh, those Cubans know how to play rough!  Maybe you’re in the mood for a little teasing and pleasing and Oh-La-La?  Belinda is off and running to Paris, where the art is fabulous, and the men are hungry for her exotic blend of Brazilian bronze skin and her ebony hair that hangs down in thick curls, way past her shoulders.  To look at her, no one would ever know that Belinda’s father was a blonde German man, stocky and solid as a rock.  Belinda definitely took after her mother, the Brazilian temptress. 
 
But that’s beside the point.  Whatever mood Dyana happened to be in, or more likely, whatever man she could dream up that was in need of ravishing … well, it only took about three pages of locale-setting drivel to set the stage, and before you know it, Belinda could be deep into her next hot romance.  But Dyana was tired of sending Belinda all over the globe.  She was ready for something different.  Something that even Belinda would be shocked to hear (and Belinda, as we know, lives far on the side of racy behavior).  Dyana wanted to come up with something that would get her excited about writing again.
 
All this thinking about Belinda and her various ports of call, so-to-speak, got Dyana to daydreaming about that day, so many millions of days ago …
 
She was nineteen, and had the hot little body to prove it.  Broke as always, she stood at the bus stop, waiting for the next bus that was headed in the direction of the medical center.  She was on her way to work, to the boring job she had taken as a medical transcriptionist at the heart hospital.  It wasn’t that she didn’t like the work, because she did, but the truth be told, she’d rather stay home and get stoned about ninety percent of the time.  Hell, she was young, and didn’t have a clue yet about how effort equals reward.  She just wanted to get stoned and get laid.  That pretty much summed it up.  She was all about doing the nasty.  She couldn’t get enough.
 
I suppose she should have known that constantly having sex with strangers automatically puts you in the category of slut, or whore, but she didn’t much care.  She’d never really known any other way.  She had started young, and was really hitting her stride.  She had found something she was good at, and lordy, lordy, was she ever good at it.  She knew how to make them roll their eyes back in their heads, and curl their toes.  She loved it.
 
As she sat there waiting for the bus, she was getting antsy.  Bored.  Rather than sit on the bench like a normal person, she rose up and perched her a** across the top rail of the back of the bench, so she was sitting high off the ground, her feet on the bench.  She fiddled with the buttons on her top, opening one more.  She flipped her shiny blonde hair in the sunlight, and licked her lips.  She was on the prowl.  Her chest pointed out a bit more, as she wriggled her a** impatiently against the bench rail.  Her feet were tapping against the bench seat.  Her eyes swung left and right, scoping out the playing field.
 
Just about then, a dark blue Camaro pulled up in front of the bus stop.  He was the third card back from the light, and as he sat there waiting for the light to turn, he took a long, deep drag from his cigarette.  Both windows were down, and she could hear the thumping sounds of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon rumbling around inside the Camaro.  He leaned his head down slightly, so that his eyes could meet hers.  Sure enough, she was staring straight at him.  With a knowing smile just barely edging the corners of her mouth, she hopped down from the bus bench, and bent down just far enough to give him a good look, leaning into the car window.  Her eyes stayed locked on his, and he smiled.  She had him.
 
Without a word, she opened the door and got in, reaching for the volume knob on the stereo.  She cranked it up, and leaned back into the seat with a sigh.  He glanced in her direction, and she gave him one more look, direct into the black of his soul, then turned her head away with a smile.  He put the car into gear with a ragged thump, and revved it just enough to make it hum.  They headed down the road, in silence.  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, swaying gently to the music.  She let it caress every inch of her skin.  She felt it throbbing against her.
 
After maybe five or ten minutes, she could hear him click the left blinker on.  She didn’t even open her eyes.  She didn’t need to.  After a brief pause, he took a left across traffic, and pulled up under the awning of a seedy motel.  Well, maybe seedy was being a bit harsh.  It was more on the side of being run down and worn out, but still fairly respectable.  Which is more than I could say for her.
 
—————–
 
This excerpt was from Day One, when I was still searching for characters, and for a direction.  By the end of Day One, I had a fair idea where it was headed, and when I got into Day Two, all of the sudden I had three separate story lines moving along simultaneously, and it got a little easier.  Even so, there are still plenty of stilted moments of silence.  Rather than write in one long session, now I'm doing it more in bits and pieces, although that's as much to save my knee from aching as anything else.  Now I'm off to run some errands.  For me, Day Three begins tonight, some time after the midnight hour.  Hope the words keep coming!
 

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

I am hoping to carve out some writing time shortly.  Thanks to Sandra's lead, I hope you don't mind my recording in this space, the Osho Zen Tarot cards I draw specifically for the fun of it as part of this NaNoWriMo month -

75. Ordinariness

Sometimes it happens that you become one, in some rare moment. Watch the ocean, the tremendous wildness of it–and suddenly you forget your split, your schizophrenia; you relax. Or, moving in the Himalayas, seeing the virgin snow on the Himalayan peaks, suddenly a coolness surrounds you and you need not be false because there is no other human being to be false to. You fall together. Or, listening to beautiful music, you fall together. Whenever, in whatsoever situation, you become one, a peace, a happiness, a bliss, surrounds you, arises in you. You feel fulfilled. There is no need to wait for these moments–these moments can become your natural life. These extraordinary moments can become ordinary moments - that is the whole effort of Zen. You can live an extraordinary life in a very ordinary life: cutting wood, chopping wood, carrying water from the well, you can be tremendously at ease with yourself. Cleaning the floor, cooking food, washing the clothes, you can be perfectly at ease–because the whole question is of you doing your action totally, enjoying, delighting in it.

Osho Dang Dang Doko Dang Chapter 3

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

So good to see and hear about all the flits and flutters about NaNo here in the blissful safety of DD.  I sorry to hear about the illin' in your body Sandra and in your teeth Azyh and in your jolly spot Tom. I'm sending sparkles as these states pass by - they are just passing through.

Day two is shaking out some stuff about the plot (I posted a love note and a bit about the plot HERE ) and a cool start on the transformation chapter but the pace is tedious what with all my backspacing and spelling edits not to mention the interruptions of being human (like bathroom breaks) and the phone. arggg!

I've only laid down about another 800 words since fonting 4:30 am and its now one o'clock. But I am hooked by the story so that makes it easier to be pulled along.

Here's the bulk of what has come today (yesterday's is here)
Luvs to all,
___________________________________________________________

Chapter ?? Transformation

It was October 1978 when I learned how to shut it all down for the first time. Fall a season of robust transformation, realities and illusions cloaking themselves behind the magic of multicolored distractions, a visceral season about the illusion of death.

But this season was no damn illusion. Death had slammed through the door of my life unannounced and screaming profanities about small and insignificance my childish needs and wants really are. And I was pissed. Not angry or mad but pissed off like a wild badger in a bloody food fight.

I was a child of 15 and enrolled as a 9th grader in a magnet school for the arts when my father died (or was he killed the old nagging mystery prompts me to question from behind the story I tell myself. No matter, I’m not sure that part ever carried much relevance for me anyways). I say I was a child only in retrospect cause at the time I thought myself grown, grown enough to battle for the barely gestured life I had only just begun to pencil into the sketches I drew at school and flesh out in the poems I wrote in the dark of quite midnight hours in the room I shared with my little sister.

This inner rage and battling barely makes any sense a’tall without setting the stage with what happened during the summer season that proceeded. That summer I experienced what was probably my last bright burst of pure heat and I admit my foolishness in trying to get back there all these years.

My older brother, Johnny had finally come home on May 19th 1978. I only remember the date ‘cause I had recorded it in my journal, along with pink and orange hearts, poetic meanderings about how much Johnny had changed after several years of absence and how his smile made me melt inside. Yeah, that is a strange thing for a sister to write about her brother but you didn’t know Johnny. He was a big funny boy with size 12 feet and the heart of a god that shined through his eyes like an angel and besides, I loved him.  

At the family cook out that next Saturday, we recounted the story to my little sister and friend Sally about how his rebellious foolery landed him in front of judge in 1975 and that’s why mama had sent him away. He was just a 14 year old kid but he had both the size and bravado of a fully grown fuming man even then which scared the pants off most folks, including mama. Mama defended herself and talked about how she and the  judge thought a boot camp type farm for boys out in East Texas could corral his wild spirit and protect society until his maturity caught up with his body and big emotions. Both Mama and Johnny always agreed it was the best decision and probably saved his life at time. But all I really concluded at the time was that ‘Mama don’t play’ and I’d best be on my peas and cues else I’d be straightened out in a similar fashion.  

So whilst he was gone I did some of my own growin’ up. By the time Johnny and I reintroduced ourselves to each other that summer, I had made it through middle school; was hangin’ with a rockin’ cool crowd of freaks (that’s 70’s slang for the pothead crowd); learned how to hide my smoking and drinking escapades; lost my virginity; and had fulfilled my catholic obligation by being confirmed during a pompous ceremony of my family’s faith; which successfully erected my clever façade as a proper southern catholic girl. This clever character script allowed me to fool my family, especially my mother, into holding a blind watchfulness over me. No one in the family seemed to notice the party girl I was concealing in plain sight. But I think Johnny smelt it from the minute he started asking questions. Once I turned him on to who I was in real life, outside our family, he and I quickly became inseparable friends.

…..more coming

Wearing my adolescence naïveté like a badge of honor and waving my stubborn arrogance like a sword only, I believed death was bigger than me.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

It is Syn, it is (the only).

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

It is indeed me, my find Nono NaNo-ean! I am lovin' on you every word btw even if I don't always post a note. Luvs, peace and plenty!

P.S. and What the Font might be next? Well how about a fonting date! and some fonting loving from hot stuff. That otta heat up your pace, among other body parts ~ teehehe eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

A Date? Shit, you are not only mighty, you are wise as well! Best idea so far.

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Very great to see you here, KL. Wow.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

*Wow and wowsah!

What a postings. Amazing. You people amaze me. This thing is magic.

But I have to hereby announce to you all. I can not be able to keep track on everything and everyone here, it has already gone off hand for me. I am actually flirting hugely with a man here in Sweden. My first real flirt in 12 freakin years!!!! So I'm a bit split – a bit I say, thee hee. And I've been waiting for my heart to be stolen and all the sudden a thief took it, just like that?!
And I try to keep it short.

And since I write in Swedish I will not ever post any excerpts here for you to wonder about. I just TELL you what I do, and hell that is BAAAAAD, hah hah hah!

Yeah, the spaceship arrived and all wackyness with it. My Demon was just about to compromise our Emperesses virginity when this ship arrives. Out from ship comes “star people” who are veeeery dignified and honourable looking creatures. They don't have mounths so they use some kind of device. From this device then comes out: ”Yo, what's up dudes, how's it hangin'?” and it all turns to a comedy. So I have fast and furiously went through Fantasy, Erotica, SciFi to a Comic book. Yay!

What the Font's next?

Counter says 4120 words. May the Font be with me as well as it hopefully will be with you guys.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

PS: Did I say a thief took it? Sorry, he is a Cantor, not a thief. and lives 400 kilometers from here.

(god i'm procastinating here)

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

A Cantor, Nono? And lives 400km away? Hope you get some writing in edgewise. ;)

You are Nono though, I'm sure you can manage both story and reality…

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

That is so cool, Nono. Delightful news! And thanks for the props.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

3680 words, of what I'm not sure (but I'm not going to say what I might have said, had I not read Michael's wise words above).

Hmm, I read this morning what I wrote yesterday and I was not amused. Not the kind of writing I have come to expect from myself, plus the story didn't start at all where I had expected it to, nor did it go where I wanted it to, not so far anyway. But, I'm not going to resist it.

My new motto: 50 000 words is 50 000 words.

Amen.

Good to read all you, though I'm finding it difficult to keep up with all the words posted.

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Nono! oh my god! ( I wrote 'oh my bod'… freud says there are no lies.. heheh).

Syn, just sooo lovely to have you with us.

Tom, I'm glad I'm not the only one struggling here. I'm hoping if (WHEN) I feel better things will shift but, I don't know. It's early days yet I suppose. Maybe we'll start with a fizzle and end with a bang??

Ruth.  It's the Aleister Crowley's Thoth Tarot, some consider it to be the only tarot to use.. I started with it years ago (when I was 12, ahem) and then thought it too dark, but now I use a different book to go with it and I'm hooked. (Gerd Ziegler's Mirror of the Soul). Thanks for being a good role model in the not-saying-that-word about our writing thing.

And yes, I'm also finding it a bit hard to keep up with al the words posted. I hate to be a party pooper and suggest that we keep things short, but I'll more likely read every word if it is on the shortish side. I realised after I'd posted my extract that perhaps it was too long – maybe we can post longish extracts as individual threads ( in the prose board perhaps, adding to our thread if we post another extract) and just a paragraph or so here and a link to the longer if we have one ? Or maybe people feel differently? I do know this thread already takes forever to load and we're not over Day Two yet.

Ok I”m falling into bed,  wishing all of you a good night and a good writing afternoon/evening/midnight/morning :-)

Much love,
Sandra

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Sandra: maybe we can post longish extracts as individual threads ( in the prose board perhaps, adding to our thread if we post another extract) and just a paragraph or so here and a link to the longer if we have one ?

I totally agree, I was going to suggest it myself if no one else did (also didn't want to discourage anyone from posting their NaNo words). Individual writers' threads on the prose board sounds like a good idea, with links from here to there.

Thanks.

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Oh thank goodness for you both. I struggled with where and how much to post then said “font it!” and just posted every dang thought and word. Crazy fearwardness thing is a bit -like what they said about freedom - you know that part about needed some restraint or something???

I'll have my Nano Writer's thread up in a minute and folks who like to keep up with what I write can go or not go check it out at thier leisure (which we may not have much of in Nov. -this Nano thing is a way harder than it sounds). 

Luvs, and kuddos on the brevity caution and idea.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Cool, Syn, and don't forget as you go on that it's ok to post a paragraph or so here (in the relevant day thread) with a link to your own story thread in the prose room. A teaser and a link. :)

Always I'm in awe of your writing, as here:

Fall a season of robust transformation, realities and illusions cloaking themselves behind the magic of multicolored distractions, a visceral season about the illusion of death.

!

I like my own writing well enough, but this NaNo {shakes head} so far it seems pretty flat…

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

you bet and thanks for the props on my writing. I admire you style very much too.

Consider:
Hey flat ain't so bad. I live in Kansas and lots of super cool crops grow best here in the flatlands. I'll bet your writingscape is incubating plenty of seeds you can't see yet. ~some of the strongest plants on earth take the longest to sprout.
Water Water Water then add some sunshine!

Luvs and plenty my friend.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Ruth, curious how Day Three goes for you. Flatness is me too, I attribute it to my health but maybe we are tuning into something else. I'm trying to think how to make this 'work' for us, but I suppose it's pretty much what you said before, to remember that 50,000 is 50,000, no one said anything about a high-falutin lofty 50,000 words (other than our (my) ever present judgemental and haughty-nosed critic!).

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Darn - I mean FONT IT.  The challenge of my daily life.  I was certain I was going to get a nice un-interrupted chunk of time and it evaporated.  I know that is what is going to be the most challenging for me and the challenges, font it, will pop up to test my resolve.

Looks like I may be writing later tonight, maybe after all my guys are asleep.  If that happens, will try to also catch up with the social side of all this, the energy that fuels us all in the commonality of intent.  That is nice to catch the wind of in my sails and so, I certainly appreciate you all for being here and allowing me to join in with you on this experience.

However, if I don't get out the door pronto, I will miss the daylight entirely for my hike.  It grows darker as I type.  Adios until later.

In one-ness of word -
Deb

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

awesome idea Sandra and Ruth - love it. I'm at 4,686 at the moment with another couple of hours of writing ahead of me before I hit the old pillow. My story went in a completely different direction when I wrote over my lunch break at work… ok not completely different - but a character showed up at the door in the predawn light and has thrown Lila into a tizzy.

I love the suggestion of posting excerpts on the prose board and linking them in a short post here. I enjoy reading everyone's excerpts wherever they are posted. This way we can keep each on an individual thread and go back and reread without getting waylaid by someone else's post.. ok I mean me getting side tracked of course.

my excerpt today from day one

hugs
la
xo

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

marveling at you guys typing here and typing there! i can do there and not here; just too much to do and too little time!![yes, i think i finally stretched myself too far]. so far i've got unimaginative names like seed and whiff and blip and child!!! let's see what comes up later. at least the river has a name!

gtg
nnwm [which all rhymes in the full form!]
got to go
nanowrimo

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

This thread is long!  I'll never remember to mention everything I wanted to while reading it but -
Azyh - hope you tooth is better pronto.  Nolthing worse than a toothache.
Tom - my Darling man of many mousy words, it is so flipping good to see you here!  I missed you, Man!
Jens - love you, can't wait to read some Jenni
((((((((((((((Nono, Ruthie, Leigh-Anne, Andrea, Sandra)))))))))))))))
((((((((((((everyone)))))))))))))))
I'm having a bad start.  Put in 1676 words but it's not coming easily and the interuptions from family that I am experiencing are terribly annoying.  I have a houseful and the kids are homeschooling now so….well, no peace and quiet at all.  Rawrrr.  So slow going and I've changed my story three times already.  I have no idea whatsoever of where I am going to go.  I just keep reminding myself that I started off rough last year too.  Then I get on FB and on the first day, only mid-day too!, Aley has 6100 words.  I could kick her! But, it's not a race, it's not a race, it's not a race. 
I'm enjoying reading the posts here much more than the writing although my head is spinning a little.  Maybe I need to check in a few times a day instead of so late so that there isn't quite so much to read.
Tiny post of todays writing which somehow switched to a YA story and something completely and totally different than I started off with.  Also complete and total fiction, not taken from any life experiences so far so that was kind of different and fun.  :
                I was born July 6, 1996.  Even though I am one of three children, my birth is one of my Mom’s favorite stories.  She  always starts the story with a loud dramatic sigh and then she begins, “The day Sunshine was born, (yes, they actually named me Sunshine), was hotter than hell, it was hotter than steaming shit on a compost pile in Africa.”  I’m half embarrassed to go on from here.  I mean, seriously.  Okay.  Then she says, “There I was, sweating like a sow in the Florida Everglades, bigger than a house in Texas, and little Moon, (that’s my big sister), was hanging on my legs whining and bawling and then next thing you know she is just soaking wet like she got knocked over in a tidal wave in some third world country, wherever it is they have them tidal waves, her mouth just hanging open in shock.  It took me a minute to figure out where all that dang water came from but it finally occurred to me that my water had broke.  Just upped and broke all over little Moon. 
Don't ask me where that came from! 
Write on fellow fonting Nano'ers.  I love you each and everyone.  Oh, and hi Michael! 

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Hey Ayla, yep I'm here. Long time no DD! Great to see you too.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Ayla..sweetie, gorgeous lush writing. Reminds me of someone, I can't think who, it'll come to me. Amazing that you are managing given what's happening for you!! bravo.
xo

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Meenakshi: at least the river has a name!

Could be the river is the most important character? the one that runs through, binding all the threads? I'll bet your story will be awesome. And I like those unimaginative names like seed and whiff and blip and child!!! To me they seem less unimaginative than some of the very ordinary 'real' names I come up with.

Leigh-Anne: This way we can keep each on an individual thread and go back and reread without getting waylaid by someone else's post.. ok I mean me getting side tracked of course.

Yes, that's perhaps the best reason of all. It's so easy to lose the thread of a story when it is interrupted not only by process posts but by pieces of other people's stories.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

… and Ruth, I'm a bear of very little brain these days, so your idea (and Sandra's) feels like the simplest and best solution :-) you both rock.

Meenakshi: “at least the river has a name”… sounds like it could be a line in a poem. I love it.

Azyh - gosh I hope your tooth is better… dentists freak me out

Syn - so nice to see you here. love what you've written so far.

ntexas, mary, wildwood, debyemm… awesome!

Gabriele, Centria, Tom, Nono- hugs

Michael- hey there (sorry missed you earlier when I was trying to read everything)… so nice to hear/ read you here.

if I've missed someone… sorry, I blame the sleep induced coma I now find myself in.

;-)

xo yay for day 2

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

It has not been a nice day. I went to school before 7AM this morning to find that my classroom had been ransacked by the custodial staff and that many of the things that I use to teach had been ruined. Go figure. I felt so disrespected, so violated, and it took me 20 minutes to find the box that I neede to take across town to the training with me.

I was running late, and traffic was heavy (imagine that, in L.A.?) and mapquest lied and told me to take La Brea to Centinela, never mentioning that at that time of the morning, Centinela doesn't move - at all. So I doubled back on La Cienega to Slauson to Sepulveda in order to avoid the 405 freeway because it also doesn't move in the morning, and I forgot because of feeling so disrespected and violated that the car needed gas. No secret how the story ends. At least my Jeep was polite and waited until I got to my destination before running out. AAA is a very good investment for people like me.

So, I came home, tried to let it all go, and thought, “I've got to do 2,000 words.” So, I sat down, and I just did it. I didn't want to deal with all those quirky fun characters that were occupying my pages last night, so I just thought about meditation, and I let my scene go to where my main character could just meditate in a completely strange place, and I just went with all the things that kept popping into her head as she tried to clear it. It worked. i did 2,000 words. I forgot my total word count but it's 4551 or something like that. Who cares? I just did my share for the night, and now Charisse is in her office watching the only copy of an old Mexican film starring Antonio Carril, a giant star she had never heard of until his grandson walked into her office with the film canister under his arm. So, there they are, and she is watching Lupe Vellez, and reflecting on how she commited suicide at age 36 over a man. It wound up being a steamy, sexy, well-developed sequence and things were just flying in out of nowhere that I don't even think I know about in my conscience mind, and yet, it was all making sense. Believe me, I can write some kooky stuff, and I fact-check after the muse is done providing.

So, tomorrow night I have rehearsal for the Christmas play. I'll be last to check in again, but I really am content with how it is going. I intend to be here in the evening, even if it is late.

Best to all of you, and Azyh, get rid of that toothache. Ouch!

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Actually, I may be the last to check in! It's 10:30 p.m. in California, and I have yet to do my writing today! Ayyyyyyyyy!!!! I'm tired right now, but the story of your writing in spite of a rather challenging day has inspired me, Andrea. So here I go, off to write …….

Mary

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

Just wanted to pop in here to say how sorry I am about what happened, Andrea. but so amazing that you didnt' let it stop you writing, and even 'used' the experience in a way to go forward. This is very inspiring.

Re: DAY TWO - 2009

No one is probably reading this thread anymore, having moved on to Day Three.  For me, it is still Day Two.  My sleeping time is mentally still the day before.  My day doesn't start, until I actually get up to stay up.  Perhaps, it is what some writers must do to write at all.  Stay up into the night, get up early.  Perhaps, it is part of paying one's dues …

Like Ayla, the demands of having home-schooled kids with me 24/7 and in my case, a home-based business with my husband, just got in the way of writing and then there's the evening dinner and clean-up and it's not quiet enough before bed to write since we're all in one room too.  I discovered in making a little count / goal chart for myself that it isn't 1,500 words per day but 1,667 minimum.  At 1,714 yesterday, I barely went over.

So, I fell asleep with the family and got up groggy at 2am, wondering what quality I could write so sleepy.  Then, I pursued the strategy I'd crafted mentally during the day - hit on the Ordinariness theme in my tarot card of the day.  Sandra's cards are part of me too - part of my inspiration and guide - because there is definitely “the group energy” and I am part of this group, by doing it through this group.  Though I feel a bit of the outsider here.  Even though I've been in this group since Sandra created it, posting one story I'd written before I ever came to Zaadz, when this group started; and always yearning to write more, to get more involved here.  Of course, I know some of you, including Sandra.  That feeling a bit “outside” came up as a theme in my writing this night, too.  I feel like I've drifted through Day Two like a ghost.

I don't know that I'll actually share any of what I write here.  It's autobiographical and emotional and scary stuff.  I'm doing my shadow work through it.  Maybe I will post something from it, at some point.  Who has time to write and read so much of someone else's anyway?  Maybe some do but I can't return the favor.  Just doing the writing feels like a miracle.

I never did good at “creative” writing, I'm more of a real life inspired writer and so, perhaps, I'll always feel a bit deficit, too lacking to be a literary genius but who knows? maybe in my really old age … oh, I would love to escape within a story of my own making, like drechanteuse.

So, in just about an hours time, I clicked up to 3,448 - 114 over what I needed for Day Two.  I won't read the Day Three thread, til I wake.  I wanted to acknowledge some very warm, welcoming reaching outs towards me here, on Day One -

Sandra - well, you make me feel welcome, definitely, you are so gracious.  I would say that writing is writing and it certainly could count … at the moment, I'm only counting what I actually write in my NaNoWriMo word doc, though.  I'm writing all the time for my groups and elsewhere and I can't count those but if I had gotten that “dual ” thing done, I would have counted it because it would have been useable and useful to “the effort”.

Gabrielle - thanks for taking note.  I can't say the Gemini experiment yielded anything but my son had more to do with that, than my intention, and because the interaction was so perfect to the exploration in writing at hand, I had to shift gears and so, I may revisit that, because I still need to write it.  It's still on my screen 2 days later even.

Centria - dear friend.  I wonder what you'll do if IT balks at words?  Well, you have managed to get words out, none-the-less.  Oh, I owe you so much for getting me here; and it's so precious to be sharing this journey with you, just one of so many we seem to walk in parallel ways … just having that, will be a huge fringe benefit to joining this group.  Just doing the writing that NaNoWriMo will cause, I owe you for that blessing.

OK, best get to bed, so I'm any good at all - tomorrow (which honestly, that tomorrow is already today and rolling toward 4am, almost a whole extra hour to get these words down, participating in the group thing.

In oneness of word -
Deb