I have to say that Nanowrimo is kicking my butt this year although I'm a bit ahead of where I was last go 'round. As of this writing, I have finally reached the halfway mark of 25,000 words. Woot! But I'm still struggling with it. I should have hit that mark Monday night and instead I hit it Thursday at lunchtime. I have to hit 37,500 this upcoming Monday night if I want to stay on track.
As one of the pep talk emails said, "I've been Week Two'd."
It's traditional to start the month roaring and to finish the month mewing like a lamb. Week Two is typically where a alot of writers stumble. The pizazz they started with has fizzled and they're starting to really question the soundness of the decision they made. I started the month scrambling for an idea that I felt I could commit myself to and yet, the idea I came up with just didn't resonate after five days. I know, I probably should have stuck with it, but I had such an aversion to it that there was no way words were going to fly out of my finges. So I scrapped it.
By this point, of course, two of my writing buddies were way ahead of me. Crap, I thought. [cue dramatic moan] What am I gonna write about?! I started digging through the scrap pile of my hard drive. There is a folder on my desktop entitled "Kelly's Writing" - any idea I have, any manuscript I'm working on, journal entries I've written, they all end up in that little blue folder that stares at me every day. The scrap pile revealed to me that I had a story idea I'd ben entertaining in the back of my brain for almost three years. I totally lucked out because I even had close to 5000 words already written of it! Technically, it's cheating, yes, but I'd already written 5000 words of the other story, so it's all a wash at the end of the day. I put in the effort, dammit, and twice at that!
So this buried treasure is what I've been working on but I keep finding myself getting distracted. I've had to go so far as to turn of my web browser, because otherwise, I'll be tempted to lurk through Facebook, or blog troll, or look up other random useless trivia to lock away into the recesses of my brain. Yeah, that's my life. Great, isn't it?
I was really proud of myself for banging out almost 5000 words this morning and I hope to repeat it tomorrow so that I can get a little bit closer to 37500 by Monday. It won't be easy, but I know that I am more inclined to met deadlines hen they're hanging over my head. Nothing like the proverbial feeling of "do it or die!" to get ya going in the morning!
And this time, I am determined to actually take time and edit the story once it's written. It may still be crap after I've hacked it apart a few times, but if I'm ever going to be a published writer (notice I didn't say REAL writer...that's a sound off waiting to happen, mark my words!), I need to get to a point where I can actually feel confident about my work to send it to an agent.
So here's to 50k and beyond...12 more days to hammer out 24,858 words!
Cheers,
Kelly
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Shadows and Smoke
I've been reflecting lately on how truly blessed I am.
Five months ago, I thought I'd never be able to pick myself up off the floor. I hated being out in public for fear that everyone could see just how truly flawed I was. My husband didn't want me, so surely there was something wrong with me, I thought. I hated seeing other women wearing their wedding bands. I hated it especially if they were moms, out with their husbands and children. I felt like I had a blinking light hanging over my head with the word "FAILURE" that everyone could see and judge me for it. And yet as much as I hated being out in public, I hated being at home even more, surrounded by memories of everything that my life had once been. I felt so alienated from my friends; in fact many of them stopped talking to me. I began to see who was rock solid and who was fair weather. Some of them just didn't know what to say. I was miserable and alone.
My life was over as I knew it.
I started to attend a new church and joined a Life Recovery class there and I signed up for DivorceCare, a support group for divorced and separated people. With the help of these new friends and love from one of the most unlikeliest of places, I began to stir to life again. I hated church growing up as a kid, and yet I found myself wanting to go back each week to listen and be surrounded by others who felt just as broken as I was. I felt safe. I felt like I could finally be me. I finally felt like I deserved to be loved by myself, God, and other people. I felt like I had a home in this church.
But still I felt like my life was over.
I mourned for the loss of my best friend, for the failure my marriage was, and for the dreams we'd shared. I mourned the fact that Sybilla would be an only child, I mourned for the future that was now shadows and smoke. I wondered what to do with my wedding dress and all the wedding memorabilia. I have to laugh at how silly that sounds; I was so genuinely worried about what would happen to my damn wedding dress that it kept me up at night!
Slowly, the spark in my heart flared to life and a fire began to grow.
I cried all the tears I had. I screamed all the obscenities I knew. I poured out my frustration, loneliness, and brokenness onto reams of paper. I sang every song I knew, letting music do the talking for my hurting soul. Every morning and night, I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, telling myself it would be ok, only occasionally believing it. I leaned heavily on friends as much they let me. I prayed every night and morning and rejoiced in completing the simplest of tasks.
"I'm still alive," I told myself fiercely. "I'm still here, and I'm still alive."
After five months of personal and couples counseling, turning the lens onto myself, gaining perspective, and learning to accept my faith and love myself for what they are, I have climbed beyond the treeline and am able to see the vista around me. I am nowhere near the top of the mountain, but I can see it without the trees obscuring my view.
I heard a piano song last night that resonated with everything I'd been feeling. It made me wistful and hopeful all in one. The song was called "Shadows of Someone I'll Never Be." I understand now that the shadows of the people we will never be are not always good ones. Sometimes it's good to acknowledge the bad shadows of one's self and to let them go. I mourned for my future as we once imagined it. But now Michael and I are imagining a new one, one that's more loving and kind. I mourned our relationship, but now I revel in what we are building anew. I am grateful for this chance at starting over, and grateful for the lessons I have learned. Even if Michael and I were not reconciling, I'd still feel blessed.
My life as I knew it WAS over. But where one life ended, another came to take it's place, one that I look forward to living.
It's a good life!
Kelly
Five months ago, I thought I'd never be able to pick myself up off the floor. I hated being out in public for fear that everyone could see just how truly flawed I was. My husband didn't want me, so surely there was something wrong with me, I thought. I hated seeing other women wearing their wedding bands. I hated it especially if they were moms, out with their husbands and children. I felt like I had a blinking light hanging over my head with the word "FAILURE" that everyone could see and judge me for it. And yet as much as I hated being out in public, I hated being at home even more, surrounded by memories of everything that my life had once been. I felt so alienated from my friends; in fact many of them stopped talking to me. I began to see who was rock solid and who was fair weather. Some of them just didn't know what to say. I was miserable and alone.
My life was over as I knew it.
I started to attend a new church and joined a Life Recovery class there and I signed up for DivorceCare, a support group for divorced and separated people. With the help of these new friends and love from one of the most unlikeliest of places, I began to stir to life again. I hated church growing up as a kid, and yet I found myself wanting to go back each week to listen and be surrounded by others who felt just as broken as I was. I felt safe. I felt like I could finally be me. I finally felt like I deserved to be loved by myself, God, and other people. I felt like I had a home in this church.
But still I felt like my life was over.
I mourned for the loss of my best friend, for the failure my marriage was, and for the dreams we'd shared. I mourned the fact that Sybilla would be an only child, I mourned for the future that was now shadows and smoke. I wondered what to do with my wedding dress and all the wedding memorabilia. I have to laugh at how silly that sounds; I was so genuinely worried about what would happen to my damn wedding dress that it kept me up at night!
Slowly, the spark in my heart flared to life and a fire began to grow.
I cried all the tears I had. I screamed all the obscenities I knew. I poured out my frustration, loneliness, and brokenness onto reams of paper. I sang every song I knew, letting music do the talking for my hurting soul. Every morning and night, I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, telling myself it would be ok, only occasionally believing it. I leaned heavily on friends as much they let me. I prayed every night and morning and rejoiced in completing the simplest of tasks.
"I'm still alive," I told myself fiercely. "I'm still here, and I'm still alive."
After five months of personal and couples counseling, turning the lens onto myself, gaining perspective, and learning to accept my faith and love myself for what they are, I have climbed beyond the treeline and am able to see the vista around me. I am nowhere near the top of the mountain, but I can see it without the trees obscuring my view.
I heard a piano song last night that resonated with everything I'd been feeling. It made me wistful and hopeful all in one. The song was called "Shadows of Someone I'll Never Be." I understand now that the shadows of the people we will never be are not always good ones. Sometimes it's good to acknowledge the bad shadows of one's self and to let them go. I mourned for my future as we once imagined it. But now Michael and I are imagining a new one, one that's more loving and kind. I mourned our relationship, but now I revel in what we are building anew. I am grateful for this chance at starting over, and grateful for the lessons I have learned. Even if Michael and I were not reconciling, I'd still feel blessed.
My life as I knew it WAS over. But where one life ended, another came to take it's place, one that I look forward to living.
It's a good life!
Kelly
Monday, November 15, 2010
Perspective
This is what happens when you leave your camera sitting within reach of tiny hands:
You get some perspective on life.
Cheers,
Kelly
Friday, November 12, 2010
What Will You Be?
They never stop asking me,
"What will you be?"
A doctor, a dancer,
A diver at sea?
They never stop bugging me:
"What will you be?"
As if they expect me to
Stop being me.
When I grow up I'm going to be a Sneeze,
And sprinkle Germs on all my Enemies.
When I grow up I'm going to be a Toad,
And dump on Silly Questions in the road.
When I grow up, I'm going to be a child.
I'll play the whole darn day and drive them Wild.
Thanks for stopping by. Have a great weekend,
Kelly
PS The poem is one of my favorites from my all time favorite kid's book, Garbage Delight by Dennis Lee. I received this book as a gift from my aunt and uncle in Canada when I was 5. Billa got her very own (brand new, non-colored or cut up, updated with new poems and art) copy from my cousin Katy, for her first birthday. It's those kind of things that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I can't wait to hear Billa laugh when she's older and will actually understand the silliness of these poems a bit better!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Parenting Paroxysm and Other Randomness
You know what vexes me?
The fact that my child can remember almost two weeks later that the yard two doors down from her daycare had Halloween decorations out the wazoo ("Puh-kin patch gone, Mama. Puh-kin patch GONE!") but she can't remember me telling her not to stomp through the house not two seconds ago. Why is that?!
I love Billa's sense of fashion. Not only does she love bright colors (like me), funky footwear (also like me), but she sure loves layering and looking as strange as possible (definitely just like me!). Observe:
This is what Billa chose to wear to church a couple of Sundays ago. I have to say, it could be worse (And yes, she insisted on accessorizing with my keys and the shopping bags). Most days we pretty much let her choose what she wears with our only input being whether or not something is weather appropriate. In my opinion, I love the fact that she marches to the beat of her own drummer and as far as I'm concerned, I could really care less most days what she wears. It won't be long before society starts holding her to their beliefs as to how things should be, so I think letting her experiment is perfectly A-OK. Let her innocence and spunk shine through while it can, I say!
My Nano novel is coming along. I started with a different idea and after writing about 5k words, I realized my heart just wasn't in that novel. I kept thinking about this dream I'd had three years ago and the plot I'd created around it. So I figured after three years of thinking about it, playing with it, and dreaming it, now was the time for me to just suck it up and finally write it. I mean, come on, what was I waiting for anyway? I'm farther behind than I'd like, but I'm happy with the story and content to see where it goes. I need to try and hit 25k words by Sunday night; we'll see what happens! I am determined to finish this novel if it kills me (ok, well maybe not that extreme), but more than that, I'm finally ready to put the effort and time into editing it and actually having other people read it and see what happens with it. I've never actually bothered to try and publish any of my writing before, but I think that if I'm going to try and actually be a writer, well, I should probably actually make an effort at submitting it to an agent and see what happens, shouldn't I? I'll keep you posted on that!
Anyhoo, if I'm going to get anywhere close to 25k words by Sunday night, I better get cracking.
Love,
Kelly
The fact that my child can remember almost two weeks later that the yard two doors down from her daycare had Halloween decorations out the wazoo ("Puh-kin patch gone, Mama. Puh-kin patch GONE!") but she can't remember me telling her not to stomp through the house not two seconds ago. Why is that?!
I love Billa's sense of fashion. Not only does she love bright colors (like me), funky footwear (also like me), but she sure loves layering and looking as strange as possible (definitely just like me!). Observe:
This is what Billa chose to wear to church a couple of Sundays ago. I have to say, it could be worse (And yes, she insisted on accessorizing with my keys and the shopping bags). Most days we pretty much let her choose what she wears with our only input being whether or not something is weather appropriate. In my opinion, I love the fact that she marches to the beat of her own drummer and as far as I'm concerned, I could really care less most days what she wears. It won't be long before society starts holding her to their beliefs as to how things should be, so I think letting her experiment is perfectly A-OK. Let her innocence and spunk shine through while it can, I say!
My Nano novel is coming along. I started with a different idea and after writing about 5k words, I realized my heart just wasn't in that novel. I kept thinking about this dream I'd had three years ago and the plot I'd created around it. So I figured after three years of thinking about it, playing with it, and dreaming it, now was the time for me to just suck it up and finally write it. I mean, come on, what was I waiting for anyway? I'm farther behind than I'd like, but I'm happy with the story and content to see where it goes. I need to try and hit 25k words by Sunday night; we'll see what happens! I am determined to finish this novel if it kills me (ok, well maybe not that extreme), but more than that, I'm finally ready to put the effort and time into editing it and actually having other people read it and see what happens with it. I've never actually bothered to try and publish any of my writing before, but I think that if I'm going to try and actually be a writer, well, I should probably actually make an effort at submitting it to an agent and see what happens, shouldn't I? I'll keep you posted on that!
Anyhoo, if I'm going to get anywhere close to 25k words by Sunday night, I better get cracking.
Love,
Kelly
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
