There's the first - the knowing when to quit. And then there's the second, the not feeling guilty. Unfortunately, the two are just not comfortable going hand-in-hand.
After deciding to throw in the towel on NaNo yesterday, I began feeling guilty. I made a commitment. True, it was more to myself than to anyone else. After all, whether I made the grade or not, no one else would be affected and all I would have to show for it is pride. And pride comes at too high a price, sometimes.
This morning I've gone to my various writer's sites and confessed my "sin" or "Failure" (note the capital F because that's how it feels). Honesty, along with Pride, is a thin blanket on a frosty night.
However, I do know I made the right decision. I didn't act on the impulse this morning, but the first thought I had on waking up was about 'Shady' - the story that's been pushing and nudging the hardest lately. If I hadn't been so darned comfortable and if the room hadn't been so darned cold (I sleep with the window wide open - even in November), I would have gotten up and started writing.
Instead, I lay in bed until eight o'clock, got my chores done, made my 'confession' around the places, and now, at 10:30, I'm here. When I get done here, I'll start on 'Shady' and see how much more I can get through.
I also thought about meeting the 50,000 word goal on NaNo, anyway. Copy my book that I started for it, and each of the blog posts I've made this month - which also qualify as writing, and the flash fiction pieces that I write in the next few weeks for the FFF group on Scribblers. I think between each of those, I would be well over the goal for the month.
In fact, since I would never be in position to publish what I was writing for NaNo (it would be too incomplete, too rough), maybe I should. Just to measure how many words I do write in a given month. Of course, that wouldn't count the in-line corrections I make along the way, but that would be bonus in any case.
It's an interesting idea. And, following further navel contemplation, I don't think it's cheating. After all, it's not like I'm doing this on a publisher's website or in a place where it counts for anything. Once I post the update and have the system count the words, the site doesn't retain what I've written. It goes back to zero with the count registered until the next time I pick "Validate" and paste my writing.
You know? I think I will do that. What the heck?
Now - I hope you have a lovely day. I'm going to get to work on something I want to do.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/i/notifications
Showing posts with label NaNo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaNo. Show all posts
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Sitting Square... On the Fence While Contemplating My Navel
As I do, since I have few secrets, I'm going to make a confession: I'm lost, dazed and confused. Should I work on this, this, this, this or this? Or keep going on this?
I got a strong start on NaNo this past week. As of today, I'm over 8,000 words into the story but in the past couple of days the spark has gone out. The story I've been writing just isn't exciting me, and I'm having second thoughts about the commitment of NaNo.
This morning, for instance, I woke up. I thought about getting out of bed and writing, and had no interest. None. Instead, I started thinking about the other stories I have perking:
'In A Green and Shady Place' - 80% complete except for a solid edit with which I'm about 50% done.
'The Weight of Air' - 80% complete except for a solid edit that I need to start.
'Genevieve's Piano' - about 70% complete, needing some re-writing and a solid edit
'Elizabeth's Braid - Book Four: Geoffrey' - about 60% complete. I'm thinking about re-working the storyline so it's the courtroom scene into which the primary story is interwoven, instead of being linear with the crime committed, the retaliation, and the trial in series.
'Elizabeth's Braid - Book One: Melissa' - about 40% complete but a story I'm thinking of completely scraping and re-doing because it's so wildly over-written (hey, it was my first book, so it's understandable).
'Elizabeth's Braid' - Books Two (Stephen) and Three (Robby) - both are "complete" but need some serious attention once I get Books One and Four re-written because those will affect these.
'Downlander' is a really great story - but it's out of control. It's like Godzilla. It started little and cute and grew into a monster, so I need to give that one a lot of thought and attention, to figure out how to wrangle it back into control. No matter what I do, it's going to be a multi-book saga. It's just a question of how many books and where to break the story.
'Matters of Friendship' - another good story. It's complete in rough-draft form, but needs a lot of work and re-working to make the story really stand up.
The sequel to 'Laurentina's Lessons' that I've gotten started and know where I want to go, but that I haven't worked on for several months while I've worked on other things.
See? I have a lot of other irons in the fire and what I'm working on now is, quite frankly, not interesting me.
The bright spot is 'Laurentina's Lessons'. That one is complete and ready to go, pending other things, like personal freedom and avoidance of sharing royalties with someone who has never once encouraged my writing or supported me, read a syllable or said anything kind. But that's another story, entirely.
In the meantime, going back to 'Two Graves', there is good potential there. I know there is, but I am just not engaged in the story and I think that's because I'm so distracted by everything else on which I could be working. Every time I start working on 'Two Graves', thoughts poke their heads in, whispering about one of those other stories.
Today is only November 7th. I did work this morning and I got another few hundred words written, pushing me above 8,200.
Nick has just woken up in the hospital. He's still groggy enough not to realize that his leg has been amputated and I've just revealed that Walt has had lustful thoughts about Sheryl since even before he got Daphne into a prone position on a blanket. I like these characters. I think they're engaging and complex enough to be interesting, so it's not that. I really don't know what it is.
There are still twenty-three days left in the month. Since no one is going to take me out and shoot me if I don't finish the 50,000 words for NaNo and, since I could potentially quiet the voices by working on the other stories, I could set 'Two Graves' to the side this weekend and work on something that is more interesting to me. But then, will I end up feeling guilty for not fulfilling the commitment I made?
And that opens the door to a stray thought. 50,000 words is the goal. Just writing 50,000. Now, the concept is that you'll spend one month working on achieving 50,000 words in "a" story. Why one? Why not 10,000 here and 6,000 there and 14,000 over there and 10,000 in that and 10,000 in this? Poetic license or creative accounting, perhaps, but why not?
As for guilt, yeah, at least a little. Maybe even a lot. After all, I did what a lot of other people did and I "bragged" that I was participating. Is there shame in not finishing? Yes, because I have "committed" and because I said I would. But really? In the overall scheme of my life and living is this going to make or break me? No. Out of all the other participants, half or more aren't going to finish either.
Nearly 1,700 words each and every day for an entire month is a lot of words. Honestly, when I said I would do it, I had no idea just how huge a commitment it is. It's a gigantic commitment of time and energy and I had no idea whatsoever until I starting really thinking about it.
If I type one thousand words in an hour and 750 of those words are usable, coherent and engaging I would net 750 words per hour. In ten hours I'm at 7,500 words. Over the course of seven days at 7,500 words per day, I'd be at 52,500 words, and that's doing nothing else whatsoever for ten hours a day for a solid week.
Who has seventy hours in any given month in which life and other things don't impinge? I work forty hours a week. I commute ten hours a week. I have a family. I have commitments. I have errands. I have a lot of other things going on, so to block seventy hours from my other life is a tremendous challenge.
With all that said, am I giving up? No. I don't think I am. I think I'm just stepping back and taking a long look while weighing options.
Another fact is that just because I don't finish the 50,000 words this month, it doesn't mean what I do will go away. It will still be there on my computer, so I can pick that thread up another time.
God, I hate conundrums like this. I hate 'should I / shouldn't I' and waffling and indecision. It's a waste of time and energy. In short, it is annoying.
So, that means I have to figure it out and get on with it. I just wish I could. But, with that said and after having written all of this, my navel contemplation has been successful. I have reached a conclusion.
Instead of screwing around and spreading myself thinner than I already am with everything I've got started and halfway finished, I'm going to stop. I'm going to set 'Two Graves' to the side and am going to commit and focus on something in which I've already invested a lot of time.
I am going to go back and finish 'Shady' with a determined eye. Then I'm going to move onto 'The Weight of Air' so I can finish that and move on to something else.
Problem solved. Now, I hope you have a conundrum-free day and with no navel contemplation required.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
I got a strong start on NaNo this past week. As of today, I'm over 8,000 words into the story but in the past couple of days the spark has gone out. The story I've been writing just isn't exciting me, and I'm having second thoughts about the commitment of NaNo.
This morning, for instance, I woke up. I thought about getting out of bed and writing, and had no interest. None. Instead, I started thinking about the other stories I have perking:
'In A Green and Shady Place' - 80% complete except for a solid edit with which I'm about 50% done.
'The Weight of Air' - 80% complete except for a solid edit that I need to start.
'Genevieve's Piano' - about 70% complete, needing some re-writing and a solid edit
'Elizabeth's Braid - Book Four: Geoffrey' - about 60% complete. I'm thinking about re-working the storyline so it's the courtroom scene into which the primary story is interwoven, instead of being linear with the crime committed, the retaliation, and the trial in series.
'Elizabeth's Braid - Book One: Melissa' - about 40% complete but a story I'm thinking of completely scraping and re-doing because it's so wildly over-written (hey, it was my first book, so it's understandable).
'Elizabeth's Braid' - Books Two (Stephen) and Three (Robby) - both are "complete" but need some serious attention once I get Books One and Four re-written because those will affect these.
'Downlander' is a really great story - but it's out of control. It's like Godzilla. It started little and cute and grew into a monster, so I need to give that one a lot of thought and attention, to figure out how to wrangle it back into control. No matter what I do, it's going to be a multi-book saga. It's just a question of how many books and where to break the story.
'Matters of Friendship' - another good story. It's complete in rough-draft form, but needs a lot of work and re-working to make the story really stand up.
The sequel to 'Laurentina's Lessons' that I've gotten started and know where I want to go, but that I haven't worked on for several months while I've worked on other things.
See? I have a lot of other irons in the fire and what I'm working on now is, quite frankly, not interesting me.
The bright spot is 'Laurentina's Lessons'. That one is complete and ready to go, pending other things, like personal freedom and avoidance of sharing royalties with someone who has never once encouraged my writing or supported me, read a syllable or said anything kind. But that's another story, entirely.
In the meantime, going back to 'Two Graves', there is good potential there. I know there is, but I am just not engaged in the story and I think that's because I'm so distracted by everything else on which I could be working. Every time I start working on 'Two Graves', thoughts poke their heads in, whispering about one of those other stories.
Today is only November 7th. I did work this morning and I got another few hundred words written, pushing me above 8,200.
Nick has just woken up in the hospital. He's still groggy enough not to realize that his leg has been amputated and I've just revealed that Walt has had lustful thoughts about Sheryl since even before he got Daphne into a prone position on a blanket. I like these characters. I think they're engaging and complex enough to be interesting, so it's not that. I really don't know what it is.
There are still twenty-three days left in the month. Since no one is going to take me out and shoot me if I don't finish the 50,000 words for NaNo and, since I could potentially quiet the voices by working on the other stories, I could set 'Two Graves' to the side this weekend and work on something that is more interesting to me. But then, will I end up feeling guilty for not fulfilling the commitment I made?
And that opens the door to a stray thought. 50,000 words is the goal. Just writing 50,000. Now, the concept is that you'll spend one month working on achieving 50,000 words in "a" story. Why one? Why not 10,000 here and 6,000 there and 14,000 over there and 10,000 in that and 10,000 in this? Poetic license or creative accounting, perhaps, but why not?
As for guilt, yeah, at least a little. Maybe even a lot. After all, I did what a lot of other people did and I "bragged" that I was participating. Is there shame in not finishing? Yes, because I have "committed" and because I said I would. But really? In the overall scheme of my life and living is this going to make or break me? No. Out of all the other participants, half or more aren't going to finish either.
Nearly 1,700 words each and every day for an entire month is a lot of words. Honestly, when I said I would do it, I had no idea just how huge a commitment it is. It's a gigantic commitment of time and energy and I had no idea whatsoever until I starting really thinking about it.
If I type one thousand words in an hour and 750 of those words are usable, coherent and engaging I would net 750 words per hour. In ten hours I'm at 7,500 words. Over the course of seven days at 7,500 words per day, I'd be at 52,500 words, and that's doing nothing else whatsoever for ten hours a day for a solid week.
Who has seventy hours in any given month in which life and other things don't impinge? I work forty hours a week. I commute ten hours a week. I have a family. I have commitments. I have errands. I have a lot of other things going on, so to block seventy hours from my other life is a tremendous challenge.
With all that said, am I giving up? No. I don't think I am. I think I'm just stepping back and taking a long look while weighing options.
Another fact is that just because I don't finish the 50,000 words this month, it doesn't mean what I do will go away. It will still be there on my computer, so I can pick that thread up another time.
God, I hate conundrums like this. I hate 'should I / shouldn't I' and waffling and indecision. It's a waste of time and energy. In short, it is annoying.
So, that means I have to figure it out and get on with it. I just wish I could. But, with that said and after having written all of this, my navel contemplation has been successful. I have reached a conclusion.
Instead of screwing around and spreading myself thinner than I already am with everything I've got started and halfway finished, I'm going to stop. I'm going to set 'Two Graves' to the side and am going to commit and focus on something in which I've already invested a lot of time.
I am going to go back and finish 'Shady' with a determined eye. Then I'm going to move onto 'The Weight of Air' so I can finish that and move on to something else.
Problem solved. Now, I hope you have a conundrum-free day and with no navel contemplation required.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Deviant Behavior
Yeah, I'm being naughty. Deviating from the norm after only four full days of NaNo. Most of it is me. A good part of it is a conversation I had this morning with someone about my blog and the track it's taken in the past few days.
I'll get back to my story, but right now, I'm burned out. I was anxious about the word count yesterday and put up about 3,000 words to hit the mark, now I have no energy and no interest.
There are another 25+ days so I'm not too worried and, as I said to a writer's group, there will be no tears cried, no sleep lost, no flogging, no remorse or regret if I don't hit the mark. The thing is a personal goal - not life changing - and I have it marked down as such.
So, here I am. Deviating from the plan. But that's what plans are for, right? And rules are there to be broken. Tomorrow I'll get back to it. Today, nah.
I got to bed later than usual last night, which was one problem. I was an hour later than usual because I spent half the evening writing, much to the irritation of hubby, so I didn't want to get up this morning. Instead, I lay in bed and played games on my iPad until I realized that I had to get going or miss out on the morning altogether.
So, I got up and got going with enough time to get out the door on time. Then MIL, who is still in recovery phase from Monday's misadventure (diagnosed as a TIA instead of a full-on stroke), was trying to get out of bed.
Since I am a hard and fast believer in "use it or lose it" I stood by, watching her struggle, but if she didn't do it herself this morning, she would count on me to do it every time. So, I stood there, watching to make sure she wasn't going to fall or hurt herself on the way to the bathroom, intending to wait until she was safely back in bed before leaving for the day. Fortunately, hubby got up. Watching her struggling with the walker, I bellowed up the stairs at him to make sure he knew she was up and moving. Once he acknowledged me by coming to the top of the stairs, I left them to it and came to work, a little later than planned, but not devastatingly so.
And, for the record, my attitude toward her situation came from past experience.
In 2012 she had a horrible month of February and a nearly deadly March - which left her weak and debilitated. First, it was a chest cold that became bronchitis which developed into pneumonia. Her kidneys failed and she was put on dialysis. For three weeks she was in the hospital then was discharged to a nursing home to recover.
Unfortunately, the staff at the nursing home was flat-out incompetent - and I say that with absolute 100% surety.
She arrived at two o'clock in the afternoon. By ten o'clock that night she was in severe insulin shock and was on her way back to the hospital because the staff overdosed her on insulin.
She had not been eating. My husband told the nurse that. She ignored him. She gave MIL a different type of insulin, that acts differently in the body. On top of that, their glucose meters - the two they used on MIL - were not properly calibrated. We know that for a fact because hubby took our meter with him when he went to check on her that night.
He had a nagging feeling all night that something was 'wrong', so I told him to go check on her or he wouldn't sleep. He did, taking our meter with him. When he tested her blood, because she was in obvious distress, her sugar level was down at 51/ml. It's supposed to be between 90/ml and 120/ml - that's normal.
When the nurse used one meter it showed 78 and the other showed 82 - and those were within minutes of hubby's use of ours. When the paramedics got to the nursing home, after hubby's frantic call because the staff refused, they tested her and her sugar was only at 57/ml - probably because hubby had already given her sugar water and it was hitting her blood.
So, that's why I say it was almost deadly, and why I say it's the nursing home's fault. Yes, we did file a complaint with the state, for all the good that did.
Anyway, so she was weak and debilitated from that - perfectly understandable. For weeks we nursed her and saw her getting stronger. But, after observing her for several weeks and seeing that she was strong enough to do for herself, when she whined at me one morning, "I can't get up, you have to help me" followed by "I don't think I'll ever get out of bed again", I lost it.
I told her, flat out: "You can lie there and feel sorry for yourself, or you can decide that you are going to get up. If you want to get better, I suggest you get started on it. We don't have a magic wand to wave to make you thirty years younger, and I have every confidence you're capable of getting up yourself, if you try." Then I walked away, back into the kitchen. From there I can see her bed, so I kept an eye on her and, sure enough, about a minute later she was sitting up and trying to get to her feet.
Tough love can be a helpful tool, and it worked in that case. Better still, she now knows there will be no pity party for her. If she needs it - as she did Monday - I will be all over it. If I think she's gaming me, nope. I won't play. I'll watch and be on hand to help, but I'm not going to do for her just because she asks.
I've also decided I need to get my life better organized. With NaNo taking over, I'm not as organized as I usually am, and it's bugging me. The house is fine, but other things aren't, so I need to get on it and get back on track. This too shall pass - it's just a question of when, but sooner rather than later will be good.
Now, with the deviant behavior explained and out of the way, I'm going to go do something else for a little while. Heck, maybe I'll even add a bit to my story.
Have a lovely day!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
I'll get back to my story, but right now, I'm burned out. I was anxious about the word count yesterday and put up about 3,000 words to hit the mark, now I have no energy and no interest.
There are another 25+ days so I'm not too worried and, as I said to a writer's group, there will be no tears cried, no sleep lost, no flogging, no remorse or regret if I don't hit the mark. The thing is a personal goal - not life changing - and I have it marked down as such.
So, here I am. Deviating from the plan. But that's what plans are for, right? And rules are there to be broken. Tomorrow I'll get back to it. Today, nah.
I got to bed later than usual last night, which was one problem. I was an hour later than usual because I spent half the evening writing, much to the irritation of hubby, so I didn't want to get up this morning. Instead, I lay in bed and played games on my iPad until I realized that I had to get going or miss out on the morning altogether.
So, I got up and got going with enough time to get out the door on time. Then MIL, who is still in recovery phase from Monday's misadventure (diagnosed as a TIA instead of a full-on stroke), was trying to get out of bed.
Since I am a hard and fast believer in "use it or lose it" I stood by, watching her struggle, but if she didn't do it herself this morning, she would count on me to do it every time. So, I stood there, watching to make sure she wasn't going to fall or hurt herself on the way to the bathroom, intending to wait until she was safely back in bed before leaving for the day. Fortunately, hubby got up. Watching her struggling with the walker, I bellowed up the stairs at him to make sure he knew she was up and moving. Once he acknowledged me by coming to the top of the stairs, I left them to it and came to work, a little later than planned, but not devastatingly so.
And, for the record, my attitude toward her situation came from past experience.
In 2012 she had a horrible month of February and a nearly deadly March - which left her weak and debilitated. First, it was a chest cold that became bronchitis which developed into pneumonia. Her kidneys failed and she was put on dialysis. For three weeks she was in the hospital then was discharged to a nursing home to recover.
Unfortunately, the staff at the nursing home was flat-out incompetent - and I say that with absolute 100% surety.
She arrived at two o'clock in the afternoon. By ten o'clock that night she was in severe insulin shock and was on her way back to the hospital because the staff overdosed her on insulin.
She had not been eating. My husband told the nurse that. She ignored him. She gave MIL a different type of insulin, that acts differently in the body. On top of that, their glucose meters - the two they used on MIL - were not properly calibrated. We know that for a fact because hubby took our meter with him when he went to check on her that night.
He had a nagging feeling all night that something was 'wrong', so I told him to go check on her or he wouldn't sleep. He did, taking our meter with him. When he tested her blood, because she was in obvious distress, her sugar level was down at 51/ml. It's supposed to be between 90/ml and 120/ml - that's normal.
When the nurse used one meter it showed 78 and the other showed 82 - and those were within minutes of hubby's use of ours. When the paramedics got to the nursing home, after hubby's frantic call because the staff refused, they tested her and her sugar was only at 57/ml - probably because hubby had already given her sugar water and it was hitting her blood.
So, that's why I say it was almost deadly, and why I say it's the nursing home's fault. Yes, we did file a complaint with the state, for all the good that did.
Anyway, so she was weak and debilitated from that - perfectly understandable. For weeks we nursed her and saw her getting stronger. But, after observing her for several weeks and seeing that she was strong enough to do for herself, when she whined at me one morning, "I can't get up, you have to help me" followed by "I don't think I'll ever get out of bed again", I lost it.
I told her, flat out: "You can lie there and feel sorry for yourself, or you can decide that you are going to get up. If you want to get better, I suggest you get started on it. We don't have a magic wand to wave to make you thirty years younger, and I have every confidence you're capable of getting up yourself, if you try." Then I walked away, back into the kitchen. From there I can see her bed, so I kept an eye on her and, sure enough, about a minute later she was sitting up and trying to get to her feet.
Tough love can be a helpful tool, and it worked in that case. Better still, she now knows there will be no pity party for her. If she needs it - as she did Monday - I will be all over it. If I think she's gaming me, nope. I won't play. I'll watch and be on hand to help, but I'm not going to do for her just because she asks.
I've also decided I need to get my life better organized. With NaNo taking over, I'm not as organized as I usually am, and it's bugging me. The house is fine, but other things aren't, so I need to get on it and get back on track. This too shall pass - it's just a question of when, but sooner rather than later will be good.
Now, with the deviant behavior explained and out of the way, I'm going to go do something else for a little while. Heck, maybe I'll even add a bit to my story.
Have a lovely day!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
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