Image by tpeñalver via Flickr

Sometimes our dreams feel so far away, lost upon a crooked path that never seems to lead directly to anywhere we want to go. There are distractions and deviations along the way; when we finally get past those, it seems we're still slogging uphill like Sisyphus (though hopefully without the boulder).

I say I want to write. I better damn well do it, no matter where that path goes. I should follow it and follow my dreams, but I keep finding ways to stray, and other dreams poke their head in and say, "hey, remember me? how you used to like to do fill in the blank?" and I'll nod and look longingly at the piano or the easel (the one I don't have, so the analogy breaks down a bit here) or the web design or the whatever-caught-my-fancy-today.

Discipline, that's what I need. Anyone know where I can find any?

There was supposed to be a party tonight, but it's off, so I better use the night to my advantage. Let's see what happens. Motivation, I'm looking at you!

Image by Photo Maiden via Flickr

Mike thinks I'm afraid of writing. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm afraid of what would happen when I finally finish a novel. What on earth would I do then? I don't know. The unknown is frightening and all that...It's the Year of the Tiger. Isn't that supposed to inspire courage? Yes, according to this site: "This courageous and fiery fighter is admired by the ancient Chinese as the sign that keeps away the three main tragedies of a household. These are fire, thieves and ghosts." Let's have none of those, please. Let's be brave and write together, shall we?

(ETA, this site says in the chinese zodiac, monkeys are the "erratic geniuses." If that's not me, I don't know what is.)

I finally bought Scrivener, with my NaNo 09 winner discount, so now I really need to use it. I've even got some ideas for the next few chapters. And I could start adding my previous (mostly all unfinished) to Scrivener and use its nifty features to figure out how I can get them done. I really want to be a writer, I do. But my motivation is non-existent. I've got to get over that. Really.

Will someone hold me to the writing? I always say I want more money. Well, writing wouldn't get me much, but it would be more.

Usually my word processor thinks I have about 200 more words than the official NaNo validator does, and that's what I expected this year--but when I validated the first time, just to see where I was (I was at 45.9k or so) I had lost 800+ words. The next time, at 46.7k, I had lost nearly a thousand. That's no good. But I resigned myself to writing more...and I did it, just now. Huzzah!

NeoOffice's final word count: 51219. NaNoWriMo's word count validator: 50127. I can live with that.

And no, I'm not done with the story yet. Have a teaser:

I'll try to finish, really. I know I always say that, but I will get to them all eventually. Especially Forging the Forest. I really have to get that one done, or Mike will never forgive me.

Well, you can do it, I am relatively creative in the grand scheme of things (and don't get me wrong, there are lots of times when I think I'm insane for doing it), and most of the time, I don't have the time to be doing NaNo, yet I just keep doing it. Forsooth, you say, but why?

I love to write, no matter how much of a hiatus I take between writing sessions. When you find that moment when the story comes together without you realizing it, when you notice that you planted the seeds for that climactic moment back at the beginning of the story when you didn't have a clue about how it was going to end, but somehow your subconscious did, when you finally get to write "the end," that's what writing is about for me. Of course, I've only written "the end" on one of my NaNovels so far, but you get my point.

So why not just do it by myself? Why subject myself to the deadline of NaNo when I could just write whenever I wanted, however much I wanted?

Because apparently my muse loves a deadline and will put forth massive amounts of juicy plotlines only when under duress. Also--there are friends I have today that I would not have had I not gone to a write-in with other StL NaNo'ers. There is nothing else like sitting in a caf<é> with a bunch of other writers, trying to write the most words in ten minutes, yelling out that you need a guy's name and getting a dozen different answers, from the absurd to the just-right, and then hitting your word count quota for the day, then allowing yourself a gooey butter danish...yes, that is pretty much perfect.

The thought of knowing that 100,000+ folks all around the world are doing the exact same thing you are, trying to figure out plot twists just like you are, puzzling over the perfect setting just like you are, is something amazing.

One day I hope something that I start during NaNo ends up being published. That means I have to actually finish one of them sometime, and maybe this year is that time. Maybe not. All I know is that I have to get that feeling when the words flow and I don't even have to think about typing, because the story has to get out. It's a huge rush, and knowing there are other folks laboring under the same deadline just to get that same kick makes it even better.

If you've got any questions about NaNoWriMo, feel free to ask. It's the highlight of my year, no matter the sleep deprivation or the frustration when a character refuses to fit into your storyline for them. But be careful, or you may end up in my novel.

Write on, all.

I didn't think I'd buy a house on my own. I thought that I'd have a friend or a husband doing it with me. I'm so glad my boyfriend has been around to help out, but it's just my name on the deed, and it's a little weird. Eh. I can say I bought a house before I turned 30. I guess that's one accomplishment that I can be proud of. Sure doesn't seem like I've done all that much sometimes.

There are lots of boxes downstairs and I think I know what's in most of them. Organizing, that's what I need to do, yes.

On the fun side, it's almost September, which comes before October, which means there's not too much time before November and NaNo. I have a couple of ideas floating around, and while it looks like I won't get to do a collaboration with my friend, I think I can figure something out. Better get cracking on that research! Yes, writing fantasy does require research. It has to be believable fantasy, you know.

Interested in spending 30 days and nights in literary abandon? Head over to NaNoWriMo and see what all the fuss is about.

From Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet, via Jane Friedman's blog.

The house is looking more livable now...but still lots to do. And an apartment to pack up/clean. Sorry to all the prospective tenants coming to take a look...just don't have time to tidy up much. I can't wait until I get moved into my new house. It will be SO nice.

(via cakewrecks.)

--ZOMG keys!--

Ahem. It's small but well proportioned and just the right size for me. There is so much work to be done, but eventually it will look really nice, and be, you know, livable with actual appliances and furniture.

One of these days I'll have a painting party and you can all come. I'll have a reason to use the tiny grill. And for those of you who don't want to get your hands dirty, yes, I believe I'll have a housewarming party too :) Details to follow...sometime.

I'm excited. My bank account cries, and I'm sore already from lugging purchases and cleaning, but this is a good thing. An investment in my future--a life step, a part of the American Dream. Now all I have to do is write the Great American Novel and I can get out of debt. *wink wink*

A giant is taking questions like: Are you really a giant? Is your wife a giant too?.

Then he gets this one: How does a giant celebrate the Fourth of July?

He says, "I have to get far away from the fireworks, or else I have to duck" (haha) "no, seriously, I love some hotdogs, some hamburgers, and a good mattress sale."

?! I don't even know what mattress store this commercial was for--I was too flabbergasted by the total non sequiteur.

Not so funny: RIP Farrah Fawcett and Jacko's in the hospital following a heart attack. Pop culture just took a major hit.

softball--a dream that
never becomes realized
because it rains so

Last night I had a dream where I was a Transformer-like Eliza Dushku (yes, I was listening to the soundtrack to Transformers last night--why do you ask?) and I really wanted to read the as-yet unpublished manuscript of some famous author--dunno who. I could get anywhere I wanted because I was pretty and rich and then could, you know, transform to get out of there. So I go to this author's place, grab the manuscript, but the police come before I can leave. Thus, I run out of the house, throw the ms. in the air, become a car, and careen off, but the policeman shoots and knocks off the license plate. Since I am a bibliophile, after the policeman has given up the chase, all he finds is the piece of plate with part of a plastic plate protector. The partial plate says OO, and the plate protector says "ublic Lib"--get it? The plate reads BOOKS (or something similar) and the protector promotes some city's Public Library.

And then I told it all to Eliza Dushku, who was apparently at a garage sale with me. Go fig.

On a serious note: one of my favorite authors (and one who probably played a part in my wanting to be a fantasy author), David Eddings, passed away last night. He will be missed. I brought the first book in the Elenium, The Diamond Throne, with me to work to read in memoriam.

--Mark Twain

From the Wyrdsmith's blog.

I woke up yesterday with the conclusion of last year's NaNo nearly complete in my head, just before the alarm went off. So of course I had to wake myself up enough to write it down, so I wouldn't forget it. That story must get done!

Busy day today, which is good. Will take my mind off the issue in need of fingers crossed.

Thanks to Isaac from my writing group and NaNo.

I think I might have forgotten a plot point for Red Skirts. But I thought of another one--or maybe it's the same one--so hopefully I'll end up in the same place. Better remember it this time...

Still looking for a house, yes. Here's hoping.

...I saved the document on the computer, and I realised I'd finished writing a book.

I wondered what I'd learned, and found myself remembering something Gene Wolfe had told me, six months earlier. "You never learn how to write a novel," he said. "You just learn how to write the novel that you're writing."

This housing search has really put a crimp in my reading and writing schedule. I've only read 4 books this month so far, and I don't think I've done any writing at all. I know I had some ideas, though...hopefully they'll wait until figure out my living situation. And when I have a house...maybe I'll have a dedicated writing room. Here's hoping.

Also: househunting is an exercise in frustration. The hopeful-excited/dejected-disappointed cycle is NOT COOL. Do not want. But I need a place to live and I want that place to be my own, so to the hunt we go.

Thirdly, if you are in want of something to do this weekend, stop by the Kirkwood Festival of Food and Flowers, and see Artists in Bloom, one of which will be my mother. It's located right across from the Kirkwood City Hall, just a short walk from the Amtrak station, and buddied up with a farmer's market. Also, Dewey's Pizza is just up the street. You can't lose. Hope to see you around!

from Ch. 9 of Lady Chatterley's Lover, D.H. Lawrence.

Got a bit of a bombshell today when my roommate informed me that she won't be renewing her part of the lease. There's only a month left on the current one. I've been looking at condos, even have a realtor and a banker guy, but I don't know how this is going to work out in a month. Do I sign the lease and find a subletter when I find a new place? Not sign the lease and hope something works out? Sigh.