Ever since deciding a few days ago to participate in NaNoWriMo despite the circumstances, I've been hard at work on plotting. I don't think I've mentioned yet that I'm not planning to do a traditional NaNo this year; that is, I'm not writing what's usually thought of as a novel. Instead, I'm planning to do a series of interconnected short stories. The "interconnected" part is what will keep me from being a NaNo rebel, although I certainly have nothing against people who set their own rules and do NaNo their own way. I fell into that category last year with my memoir, and my main hangout on the NaNo forums was the wonderful rebel lounge.
Anyway, I've gotten most of my story ideas down and have pretty thoroughly outlined two of them. However, I still have a lot of work to do if I'm going to be at least mostly ready before November 1. I think I'm getting close to nail-biting time!
For those of you doing NaNo, how's your planning going? And for those of you NaNo-ers who have blogs, how often do you think you'll post during November? I've been wondering what to do about my own schedule.
Showing posts with label story ideas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story ideas. Show all posts
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Seldom a lightbulb moment
Today's 100 words:
Story ideas don't come easy to me. They never have. And nonfiction ideas arrive slowly as well. When it was time to write my thesis in graduate school, it took several long meetings with my thesis director before I could settle on a project. Some people are fortunate to see ideas in everything: they read an article, hear something on television, or have an unusual dream, and suddenly they're brainstorming their answers to the what-ifs. I envy them. Ideas come slowly to me, thick like molasses, and it takes a lot of shaping to form them into something viable.
Story ideas don't come easy to me. They never have. And nonfiction ideas arrive slowly as well. When it was time to write my thesis in graduate school, it took several long meetings with my thesis director before I could settle on a project. Some people are fortunate to see ideas in everything: they read an article, hear something on television, or have an unusual dream, and suddenly they're brainstorming their answers to the what-ifs. I envy them. Ideas come slowly to me, thick like molasses, and it takes a lot of shaping to form them into something viable.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
The bad, the good, and NaNoWriMo
The bad news? I'm still in a writing slump. I don't know what it is*, but whenever I sit down to write, I find myself paralyzed by the blank page (screen). However, the other day, a very helpful Twitter friend, @noelle_clark, asked me if I had thought about doing NaNoWriMo this year, as she was sure that it would be just the thing to get me writing again. The good news? I think she may be right.
Most writers probably know that November is National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). According to the Web site, "National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing on November 1. The goal is to write a 50,000-word (approximately 175-page) novel by 11:59:59, November 30." What's different about NaNoWriMo is that writers are encouraged to work on new projects and write without worrying about quality, reasoning that getting the words down is more important. After all, what "they" say is true: words can be edited later, but a blank page can't.
That blank page is a real issue for me. I think that part of my problem with writing is my desire for perfectionism. I want everything to be just right, so if, for example, the first line doesn't sing, I just can't get past it. (Hello, WIP.) It's okay to want perfectionism, but to expect to have it in the first draft just sets the writer (me) up for failure. (Somehow, though, I keep forgetting this.) Perhaps trying once again to abandon my inner critic and give myself permission to write--as the NaNo rules state--"crap" will help me to get over this hurdle.
I can't remember now how many times I've participated in NaNoWriMo, but I think a good guess would be about four. I "won" two of those years, which means that I made the 50,000-word goal before November 30. I did do what I call an unofficial NaNo last year--unofficial because I wrote a memoir rather than fiction. I ended the month with over 70,000 words on that project, so even though I didn't follow the rules to a tee, I definitely consider the effort much worth my time.
As of this moment, I'm leaning toward participating again this year, although I'm not sure what my project will be. I could do another unofficial NaNo and work on my Jed WIP, but I'm concerned that that particular project is the cause of my writing burnout. I think it might be better to work on something new--but what? Unlike most writers, I seem to have a problem with coming up with solid story ideas, but maybe by the time November rolls around, I'll be able to find a workable one.
What about you? Are you participating in NaNoWriMo this year? Have you participated in the past? And does writing with no goal other than hitting a specific word count work for you?
*On second thought, I do have an inkling. See paragraph 3.
Most writers probably know that November is National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). According to the Web site, "National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing on November 1. The goal is to write a 50,000-word (approximately 175-page) novel by 11:59:59, November 30." What's different about NaNoWriMo is that writers are encouraged to work on new projects and write without worrying about quality, reasoning that getting the words down is more important. After all, what "they" say is true: words can be edited later, but a blank page can't.
That blank page is a real issue for me. I think that part of my problem with writing is my desire for perfectionism. I want everything to be just right, so if, for example, the first line doesn't sing, I just can't get past it. (Hello, WIP.) It's okay to want perfectionism, but to expect to have it in the first draft just sets the writer (me) up for failure. (Somehow, though, I keep forgetting this.) Perhaps trying once again to abandon my inner critic and give myself permission to write--as the NaNo rules state--"crap" will help me to get over this hurdle.
I can't remember now how many times I've participated in NaNoWriMo, but I think a good guess would be about four. I "won" two of those years, which means that I made the 50,000-word goal before November 30. I did do what I call an unofficial NaNo last year--unofficial because I wrote a memoir rather than fiction. I ended the month with over 70,000 words on that project, so even though I didn't follow the rules to a tee, I definitely consider the effort much worth my time.
As of this moment, I'm leaning toward participating again this year, although I'm not sure what my project will be. I could do another unofficial NaNo and work on my Jed WIP, but I'm concerned that that particular project is the cause of my writing burnout. I think it might be better to work on something new--but what? Unlike most writers, I seem to have a problem with coming up with solid story ideas, but maybe by the time November rolls around, I'll be able to find a workable one.
What about you? Are you participating in NaNoWriMo this year? Have you participated in the past? And does writing with no goal other than hitting a specific word count work for you?
*On second thought, I do have an inkling. See paragraph 3.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Because I know you've all been holding your breath...
Well, not really. :)
But since I've been writing so frequently about how excited my son has been to start school, I thought I would update on his first day, which was today. The verdict?
He loved it!
Although today was his first official day, it was really parent/child day, an hour-long meet and greet in which the kids and parents took a tour of the locker room (this is a YMCA program, and one thing the teachers focus on is swimming), the kids played, and the parents and teachers visited. My son did really well. I think he was excited to have the opportunity to play with other little boys--finally. (Most of my friends have girls, so up until now, the majority of his playdates have been all girls, plus him.) When I chatted with one of the teachers, I could hear my son screaming and laughing as he and some other boys played a game that might have been called "Get Away from the Monster." He was having so much fun!
I also enjoyed my hour in the classroom. It was fun watching the kids get to know each other, and it was hilarious to listen to some of the things they said. When the teacher, Miss Krista, asked the kids what the rules should be for walking down to the locker room, one little boy remarked that everyone should keep his hands to himself and not poke the other kids. Miss Krista agreed that that was a very good rule, and then another child piped up, asking, "But it's okay if we touch ourselves, right?" The adults (including the teachers) all burst out laughing, and Miss Krista dryly remarked that she thought it was time to let that discussion go. I love listening to the kids and wish I could be a fly on the wall. Think of all the great story ideas one could find in a room full of four-year-olds!
Thursday is my son's first day alone in class--and therefore the first day I have to deal with my anxiety about leaving him there. I'm still a little nervous and a lot sad about having to be away from my "baby" for six hours each week. I know I'll probably cry, but for his sake, I'll try to keep a smile on my face until I leave the building. Having my daughter to distract me will help, I'm sure, and I know the hours will pass quickly. Before I know it, it will be time to pick him up and listen to him chatter excitedly about all the wonderful things he learned.
And his excitement is worth any sadness I'll feel.
There's no doubt about that.
But since I've been writing so frequently about how excited my son has been to start school, I thought I would update on his first day, which was today. The verdict?
He loved it!
Although today was his first official day, it was really parent/child day, an hour-long meet and greet in which the kids and parents took a tour of the locker room (this is a YMCA program, and one thing the teachers focus on is swimming), the kids played, and the parents and teachers visited. My son did really well. I think he was excited to have the opportunity to play with other little boys--finally. (Most of my friends have girls, so up until now, the majority of his playdates have been all girls, plus him.) When I chatted with one of the teachers, I could hear my son screaming and laughing as he and some other boys played a game that might have been called "Get Away from the Monster." He was having so much fun!
I also enjoyed my hour in the classroom. It was fun watching the kids get to know each other, and it was hilarious to listen to some of the things they said. When the teacher, Miss Krista, asked the kids what the rules should be for walking down to the locker room, one little boy remarked that everyone should keep his hands to himself and not poke the other kids. Miss Krista agreed that that was a very good rule, and then another child piped up, asking, "But it's okay if we touch ourselves, right?" The adults (including the teachers) all burst out laughing, and Miss Krista dryly remarked that she thought it was time to let that discussion go. I love listening to the kids and wish I could be a fly on the wall. Think of all the great story ideas one could find in a room full of four-year-olds!
Thursday is my son's first day alone in class--and therefore the first day I have to deal with my anxiety about leaving him there. I'm still a little nervous and a lot sad about having to be away from my "baby" for six hours each week. I know I'll probably cry, but for his sake, I'll try to keep a smile on my face until I leave the building. Having my daughter to distract me will help, I'm sure, and I know the hours will pass quickly. Before I know it, it will be time to pick him up and listen to him chatter excitedly about all the wonderful things he learned.
And his excitement is worth any sadness I'll feel.
There's no doubt about that.
Monday, June 27, 2011
That blotch
This morning's 100 words:
There's peach-colored paint smudged on the white ceiling of the room I'm writing in, splotches left of a long-ago paint job my husband did very late one night, just before we were leaving to go on summer vacation. He was so tired, the paint splotch tells me, but a mean-spirited voice in my head taunts, "He was lazy, too, for making a mess, for not cleaning it up." I stare at that splotch, that blotch, that blemish above me nearly every day as I write, as I search for ideas and inspiration from the ceiling and beyond.
There's peach-colored paint smudged on the white ceiling of the room I'm writing in, splotches left of a long-ago paint job my husband did very late one night, just before we were leaving to go on summer vacation. He was so tired, the paint splotch tells me, but a mean-spirited voice in my head taunts, "He was lazy, too, for making a mess, for not cleaning it up." I stare at that splotch, that blotch, that blemish above me nearly every day as I write, as I search for ideas and inspiration from the ceiling and beyond.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Going along for the ride
"Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable." ~Francis Bacon, Sr., English lawyer and philosopher
There's nothing better than a story idea that comes out of nowhere, sparking the imagination with no provocation. Each morning as a writing warm-up, I write 100 words on whatever topic comes to mind. This morning I was penning words about my WIP when I found myself writing instead about an octogenarian named Jed. I have no idea where this character came from or why he started to tell me his story at that moment, but I allowed him to talk. And talk. He's been walking beside me all day, and I've listened carefully as he's shared stories about his life: about his father, who died at a young age; about the years when Jed ran away from home; about the wife that Jed recently lost and the children who rarely visit... All day long, the words have continued to flow. I'm not sure exactly where this character will lead me--I don't know whether he's a main character in a short story or a minor character in a novel--but I'm thrilled to be going along for the ride.
These moments don't come to me often; a character I've never met before doesn't usually start whispering his life story. But I'm always grateful for these unsought thoughts, these ideas that come unbidden to take root in my mind and heart.
There's nothing better than a story idea that comes out of nowhere, sparking the imagination with no provocation. Each morning as a writing warm-up, I write 100 words on whatever topic comes to mind. This morning I was penning words about my WIP when I found myself writing instead about an octogenarian named Jed. I have no idea where this character came from or why he started to tell me his story at that moment, but I allowed him to talk. And talk. He's been walking beside me all day, and I've listened carefully as he's shared stories about his life: about his father, who died at a young age; about the years when Jed ran away from home; about the wife that Jed recently lost and the children who rarely visit... All day long, the words have continued to flow. I'm not sure exactly where this character will lead me--I don't know whether he's a main character in a short story or a minor character in a novel--but I'm thrilled to be going along for the ride.
These moments don't come to me often; a character I've never met before doesn't usually start whispering his life story. But I'm always grateful for these unsought thoughts, these ideas that come unbidden to take root in my mind and heart.
Monday, May 23, 2011
What I Know
Writers are often told to write what they know. I personally don't subscribe to that belief--I think writers should write what they love--but for the record, what follows is a short list of what I know, all of which I learned today:
1. I know that a young child won't sit still and be quiet in a waiting area no matter how many times you ask him or how many snacks you offer. Also, the loudness of the child's voice is directly proportional to how many people are glaring at the child's mother.
2. I know that when you go into a car repair shop to have just one thing fixed, the mechanics, great sleuths that they are, will never fail to find a half-dozen more necessary repairs. This is good for safety's sake, of course, but bad for the credit card.
3. Similarly, I know that car repair costs breed like the proverbial rabbits. Today's $700 brake job will unfortunately be followed by tomorrow's $800 bill for new tires.
4. Finally, I know that a child who cries because she is tired of waiting four hours for the aforementioned brakes to be fixed will climb up on your lap, then vomit all the food she ate in her entire life all over your shirt and pants, much to your horror and embarrassment and the other customers' disgust. You must then sit there with no change of clothes while the repairs that you were just told would take "only another ten minutes" proceed to take nearly an hour. (If it weren't for a kindly older couple who jumped up to help me, I have no idea how I would have extricated myself from that mess. I was drenched. I literally could not stand up.)
So today, those are the things I know. Do I think they're story fodder? Perhaps. Do I intend to use them? Not if I can help it. It's more than enough just to live them.
Trust me.
1. I know that a young child won't sit still and be quiet in a waiting area no matter how many times you ask him or how many snacks you offer. Also, the loudness of the child's voice is directly proportional to how many people are glaring at the child's mother.
2. I know that when you go into a car repair shop to have just one thing fixed, the mechanics, great sleuths that they are, will never fail to find a half-dozen more necessary repairs. This is good for safety's sake, of course, but bad for the credit card.
3. Similarly, I know that car repair costs breed like the proverbial rabbits. Today's $700 brake job will unfortunately be followed by tomorrow's $800 bill for new tires.
4. Finally, I know that a child who cries because she is tired of waiting four hours for the aforementioned brakes to be fixed will climb up on your lap, then vomit all the food she ate in her entire life all over your shirt and pants, much to your horror and embarrassment and the other customers' disgust. You must then sit there with no change of clothes while the repairs that you were just told would take "only another ten minutes" proceed to take nearly an hour. (If it weren't for a kindly older couple who jumped up to help me, I have no idea how I would have extricated myself from that mess. I was drenched. I literally could not stand up.)
So today, those are the things I know. Do I think they're story fodder? Perhaps. Do I intend to use them? Not if I can help it. It's more than enough just to live them.
Trust me.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Elusive words
Lately I've been having trouble writing. The ideas are there, but I can't seem to catch them, so I'm left feeling frustrated--and cranky! I know this happens to all writers at some point. It's happened to me before, and it will happen again.
I wrote the following 100-words exercise on April 4 when I was feeling the same way:
I wrote the following 100-words exercise on April 4 when I was feeling the same way:
Sleet rings against the window, and the steadiness of it--ping, ping, ping--has a trancelike quality to it, and I can almost forget that it's there as I sit and write these words, these words that for the past several days have been so hard to pull from my mind, for whatever reason, and I've realized how hard it is to be a writer whose ideas are drifting away from her, rolling like a tumbleweed down the road, and even though I chase after them, run as fast as I can to catch them, somehow they still elude me.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Welcoming the unexpected
I find that the best story ideas are the ones that sneak up on me, often when I find myself unprepared and suddenly scrambling for paper and a pen. One of those wonderful ideas hit me today, and I spent some time writing notes and talking to that lovely character who had chosen that particular moment to make herself known. Did she give me a short story? A novel? I'm not sure yet, but I do know that the story has ignited a passion in me that the story I had been working on didn't. I'm excited again--about an idea, about writing, about sitting down at the computer and opening a document file. I think the difference between this new idea and my current WIP is that my WIP feels forced--I'm having to work really hard to brainstorm and outline; the ideas and words haven't come easily. My new project feels more organic. The idea flows. I'm excited to start working on it.
Forty Days, Forty Boxes Update: Today's box (and many, many boxes in my future) was filled with books, mainly old textbooks I either used when I was teaching or had received as review copies from publishers. I decided to get rid of all but my favorite one or two. After all, I'm no longer teaching, and even if I do teach again one day, I'll need new books, of course. Two boxes down, thirty-eight to go...
Forty Days, Forty Boxes Update: Today's box (and many, many boxes in my future) was filled with books, mainly old textbooks I either used when I was teaching or had received as review copies from publishers. I decided to get rid of all but my favorite one or two. After all, I'm no longer teaching, and even if I do teach again one day, I'll need new books, of course. Two boxes down, thirty-eight to go...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Dreams
I've been having strange dreams for the past two nights, dreams about things like missing hams (I know!) and people I haven't thought about in years and friends who might not know how to use a hammer in real life suddenly flipping houses. For a long time, I either didn't dream or couldn't recall the ones I was having, so even though these dreams are strange, it's nice to know I'm dreaming again. And all writers know that sometimes story ideas lurk in dreams...
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