This post is going out a little later than usual, I know, but it's not like anyone cares enough to look at my blog before I post "New blog post!" on Facebook and Twitter, anyway. Between finishing projects, studying for finals, watching Netflix, and staring at the ceiling as my roommate played Assassin's Creed until 4:00 in the morning, I literally had no time to write so I apologize for my excuses. I also apologize for the shortness of this post but after the verbosity of some of my earlier posts I don't think you'll mind too terribly much. It's just that writing an entire novella in one month can make a person feel like they need respite from writing.
I won NaNoWriMo with a grand total of 50,068 words! In more comprehensible terms, that's just over 90 pages in Microsoft Word, Times New Roman, 12-point font, one-inch margins, single spaced; or 175 pages double spaced -- the equivalent of 35, five-page papers. Of course, when the only objective is writing as many words as possible, quality tends to be slightly less than that of a paper written entirely the night before it's due. Still, it's 50,068 words I didn't have at the beginning of the November. Not only did I meet my goal of surpassing last year's word count that plateaued at 40,000 words, but I actually like my story! This surprised me more than anything. I'm the type of person that once I set my mind to accomplishing a task or goal there are very few things that can prevent me from doing so, so I knew I could win; it was just a matter of how much I wanted to kill myself by the end of the month. Come November 30, I didn't want to kill myself. Some of my characters may or may not have been so lucky.
Now that November's over, what's next? Well, once I've had sufficient time to forget about my story, I'll let loose my inner editor and keel over backwards, stunned by the atrocious writing. But that is what I've been looking forward to most since October 31. I want to transform the raw, unfiltered ideas into a coherent story. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll even get it published. But I won't get ahead of myself; all I can do is edit, revise, and become a better writer.
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No sonnet this week, I'm afraid.
To all my fellow college students, good luck on finals!
To everyone else, have a great week! -NLD
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Liked this post? Didn't like it?
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.
Thanks for reading!
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre
A weekly blog of original sonnets, etc.
Showing posts with label NaNoWriMo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaNoWriMo. Show all posts
December 11, 2013
November 26, 2013
Homeward Bound! But Where's Shadow?
I'm posting a day early because today is the day I'm actually going home for Thanksgiving Break; I thought it would be more appropriate, considering the title and content of this post. This post is mainly my unfiltered thoughts from when I wrote it at 1:30 in the morning so if they seem a little abrasive, that's probably why.
If you're reading this on the day of its posting, good for you; but for me there are only four and a half days left of NaNoWriMo! If you're not reading this on the day it was posted, I assume you had a hideous eye-infection that prevented you from doing so. Just as it doesn't really matter when you're actually reading this, the last four and a half days of NaNoWriMo don't really matter because I've already achieved my goal of writing more words than I did last year. Scratch that. IT MATTERS! I've come way too far not to finish now. Once November's over I'll finally be able to unleash the natural editor inside me that I've kept chained and padlocked in a dark and lonely cell with walls three feet thick and only one key -- "The End."
NaNoWriMo has been a bit of a wild ride for me. There was a week at the very beginning where I liked my secondary characters more than my main character but since then I've suffered from a severe case of the neglected subplot. I'm okay with this, though, because I can always go back and flesh out my subplots during edits but I have to resolve my main conflict one way or the other by the end of the month. Next week I'll probably do a brief debrief before continuing on with the story of my summer.
Right now, however, I'd like to write about something that's been bothering me this past week. Over the past few months I've felt the best I've felt about myself in a long time. I can wake up in the morning, look in the mirror (after I've showered, of course) and say to myself, "What a good looking, smart young man you are!" I've managed to do well in all of my classes -- even the one with a difficult professor. Heck! I'm writing a freaking novel! How cool is that? In addition to all that, I have a great group of friends that I have dinner with more often than not, even though I live halfway across campus. The best analogy I could come up with for how I feel/felt is Sassy the cat from "Homeward Bound." If you haven't seen "Homeward Bound" you must not have had a childhood. Anywho, Sassy nearly drowned after plummeting down a waterfall -- my grandfathers' deaths -- but was nursed back to health and is now back stronger and sassier than ever. (Believe me; I have my sassy days.) I'm homeward bound -- in the home stretch -- both for NaNoWriMo and this quarter. Soon I'll be home enjoying the comforts of family and real food. But something's missing. Where's Shadow the golden retriever?
This past week I've felt as if something is missing from my life. I noticed that I've been listening to songs that have a powerful cathartic effect on me -- "Into the West" from "The Return of the King" soundtrack and "Fire with Fire" by the Scissor Sisters, to name a couple. I even dug out the slideshow I made for my high school graduation. It could be that I'm just anxious to get home and see my family but if my subconscious is honest with me, I don't think that's it.
A few nights ago I had a dream with a meaning as clear as lake water. A certain well-known YouTube violinist/dancer came to my school to perform. After her performance she decided to hang around the dorms for a few days to get to know people. For some reason, she took particular interest in me. We became friends and would sit around eating apples as we chatted. Things never progressed beyond that. Even though she's quite a bit older than me I still find her to be a very attractive young woman so I was confused as to why my subconscious wouldn't capitalize on such a fortuitous situation. As a boy I woke up disappointed; as a friend, happy; as an individual, restless.
I may just be shoving words into the porcupine's mouth, but I definitely feel like that dream means something. Even if it has no meaning, it made me analyze my friendships and think about what it is I want from them. I feel like an ass typing this, but most -- if not all -- of the friendships I've formed since coming to college are supplementary to my studies, meaning, I use my friends and the adventures we have as a method to blow off steam built up in the pressure chamber that is my Computer Science class. That isn't to say I don't genuinely care about my friends because I do; it's just that if it comes down to a choice between spending an entire Saturday working on things I want to get done or going to Vancouver with my friends, I'll choose to lock myself in my room with a bag of potato chips until I've finished whatever it is that I wanted to get done. I'll dispense with the hypothetical pretenses and just say that this is exactly what happened last Saturday (11/23). But apparently, working nonstop on Japanese homework, Computer Science homework, a study abroad application, and 2,117 words for NaNoWriMo from 11:30am to midnight wasn't enough, because I stayed up until 1:30am writing this blog post.
As much as I ended up getting done, it wasn't without much deliberation that I declined the invitation to Vancouver. The reason, I think, goes back to that dream I had a few nights ago; what do I want out of my friendships? Could it be possible that I'd like something more than just eating apples and chatting? It's possible but my conscious mind tells me that's not it. I think what had a larger impact is this: "I have trust issues."
I keep my own true feelings well guarded not because I'm afraid somebody might hurt me but because I fear that my feelings will hurt someone else. It makes absolutely no sense, I know, but because of this I find it very hard to trust anyone but my family and a few of my closest friends from high school. Yes, I will tell someone -- you, the reader of this blog, for instance -- personal details about myself but it is very likely I'm only doing so because it's something I've already incorporated into who I am as a person and don't think should really matter to anyone else. Sometimes it does. It's not anything I wouldn't tell any of my friends, it's just a matter of who wants to know about it. You're still reading this blog so I would hope that you give a ripe banana about what I'm writing. If not, eh, that's your choice.
Another of my trust issues -- and perhaps one of the more irrationally understandable ones -- is that if someone gives me any reason whatsoever not to trust them, I will tend not to, especially in situations where serious injury is possible, such as being a passenger in a car. If I know the driver has a history of less-than-intelligent decisions, I will automatically feel uncomfortable no matter how safe of a driver they actually are. I don't quite know how I developed these trust issues but they're there. Maybe it has something to do with the Minnesota Vikings.
So what am I missing? I have no idea. Maybe it's my family. Maybe it's friends that I don't spend enough time with. Maybe it's a trustworthy companion like Shadow I can share more than just smalltalk with. Maybe it's that character in my story I just killed. Maybe it's something completely different. All I know is that if I'm going to sit around waiting for some famous, attractive girl to walk up to me and hand me an apple it's going to be a long wait. The sad thing is, though, that might be what I'm waiting for.
Current NaNoWriMo Word Count: 43,047
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I started working on a new sonnet but because I'm posting earlier than usual it didn't get finished in time. Perhaps I'll post it later this week.
If you're reading this on the day of its posting, good for you; but for me there are only four and a half days left of NaNoWriMo! If you're not reading this on the day it was posted, I assume you had a hideous eye-infection that prevented you from doing so. Just as it doesn't really matter when you're actually reading this, the last four and a half days of NaNoWriMo don't really matter because I've already achieved my goal of writing more words than I did last year. Scratch that. IT MATTERS! I've come way too far not to finish now. Once November's over I'll finally be able to unleash the natural editor inside me that I've kept chained and padlocked in a dark and lonely cell with walls three feet thick and only one key -- "The End."
NaNoWriMo has been a bit of a wild ride for me. There was a week at the very beginning where I liked my secondary characters more than my main character but since then I've suffered from a severe case of the neglected subplot. I'm okay with this, though, because I can always go back and flesh out my subplots during edits but I have to resolve my main conflict one way or the other by the end of the month. Next week I'll probably do a brief debrief before continuing on with the story of my summer.
Right now, however, I'd like to write about something that's been bothering me this past week. Over the past few months I've felt the best I've felt about myself in a long time. I can wake up in the morning, look in the mirror (after I've showered, of course) and say to myself, "What a good looking, smart young man you are!" I've managed to do well in all of my classes -- even the one with a difficult professor. Heck! I'm writing a freaking novel! How cool is that? In addition to all that, I have a great group of friends that I have dinner with more often than not, even though I live halfway across campus. The best analogy I could come up with for how I feel/felt is Sassy the cat from "Homeward Bound." If you haven't seen "Homeward Bound" you must not have had a childhood. Anywho, Sassy nearly drowned after plummeting down a waterfall -- my grandfathers' deaths -- but was nursed back to health and is now back stronger and sassier than ever. (Believe me; I have my sassy days.) I'm homeward bound -- in the home stretch -- both for NaNoWriMo and this quarter. Soon I'll be home enjoying the comforts of family and real food. But something's missing. Where's Shadow the golden retriever?
This past week I've felt as if something is missing from my life. I noticed that I've been listening to songs that have a powerful cathartic effect on me -- "Into the West" from "The Return of the King" soundtrack and "Fire with Fire" by the Scissor Sisters, to name a couple. I even dug out the slideshow I made for my high school graduation. It could be that I'm just anxious to get home and see my family but if my subconscious is honest with me, I don't think that's it.
A few nights ago I had a dream with a meaning as clear as lake water. A certain well-known YouTube violinist/dancer came to my school to perform. After her performance she decided to hang around the dorms for a few days to get to know people. For some reason, she took particular interest in me. We became friends and would sit around eating apples as we chatted. Things never progressed beyond that. Even though she's quite a bit older than me I still find her to be a very attractive young woman so I was confused as to why my subconscious wouldn't capitalize on such a fortuitous situation. As a boy I woke up disappointed; as a friend, happy; as an individual, restless.
I may just be shoving words into the porcupine's mouth, but I definitely feel like that dream means something. Even if it has no meaning, it made me analyze my friendships and think about what it is I want from them. I feel like an ass typing this, but most -- if not all -- of the friendships I've formed since coming to college are supplementary to my studies, meaning, I use my friends and the adventures we have as a method to blow off steam built up in the pressure chamber that is my Computer Science class. That isn't to say I don't genuinely care about my friends because I do; it's just that if it comes down to a choice between spending an entire Saturday working on things I want to get done or going to Vancouver with my friends, I'll choose to lock myself in my room with a bag of potato chips until I've finished whatever it is that I wanted to get done. I'll dispense with the hypothetical pretenses and just say that this is exactly what happened last Saturday (11/23). But apparently, working nonstop on Japanese homework, Computer Science homework, a study abroad application, and 2,117 words for NaNoWriMo from 11:30am to midnight wasn't enough, because I stayed up until 1:30am writing this blog post.
As much as I ended up getting done, it wasn't without much deliberation that I declined the invitation to Vancouver. The reason, I think, goes back to that dream I had a few nights ago; what do I want out of my friendships? Could it be possible that I'd like something more than just eating apples and chatting? It's possible but my conscious mind tells me that's not it. I think what had a larger impact is this: "I have trust issues."
I keep my own true feelings well guarded not because I'm afraid somebody might hurt me but because I fear that my feelings will hurt someone else. It makes absolutely no sense, I know, but because of this I find it very hard to trust anyone but my family and a few of my closest friends from high school. Yes, I will tell someone -- you, the reader of this blog, for instance -- personal details about myself but it is very likely I'm only doing so because it's something I've already incorporated into who I am as a person and don't think should really matter to anyone else. Sometimes it does. It's not anything I wouldn't tell any of my friends, it's just a matter of who wants to know about it. You're still reading this blog so I would hope that you give a ripe banana about what I'm writing. If not, eh, that's your choice.
Another of my trust issues -- and perhaps one of the more irrationally understandable ones -- is that if someone gives me any reason whatsoever not to trust them, I will tend not to, especially in situations where serious injury is possible, such as being a passenger in a car. If I know the driver has a history of less-than-intelligent decisions, I will automatically feel uncomfortable no matter how safe of a driver they actually are. I don't quite know how I developed these trust issues but they're there. Maybe it has something to do with the Minnesota Vikings.
So what am I missing? I have no idea. Maybe it's my family. Maybe it's friends that I don't spend enough time with. Maybe it's a trustworthy companion like Shadow I can share more than just smalltalk with. Maybe it's that character in my story I just killed. Maybe it's something completely different. All I know is that if I'm going to sit around waiting for some famous, attractive girl to walk up to me and hand me an apple it's going to be a long wait. The sad thing is, though, that might be what I'm waiting for.
Current NaNoWriMo Word Count: 43,047
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I started working on a new sonnet but because I'm posting earlier than usual it didn't get finished in time. Perhaps I'll post it later this week.
If you're in the United States, I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving! Enjoy the food and the company of your family and be thankful for all the things in your life that make you who you are -- both the good and the bad, the triumphs and the failures, the known and the as of yet unknown. Happy Thanksgiving! Until next time. -NLD
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Liked this post? Didn't like it?
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.
Thanks for reading!
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Liked this post? Didn't like it?
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.
Thanks for reading!
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre
November 13, 2013
A Sudden Storm of NaNoWriMo
I would have liked to get caught up to at least the beginning of the current quarter but when I think about how busy my summer was, that's not going to happen. As busy as it was, my summer didn't involve powerful emotions like those associated with the loss of a cat or grandparent. Without those emotions to fuel the wood stove of creativity I find it more difficult to write about my own life. In addition, NaNoWriMo has been sucking a lot of my time, energy, and words. I still want to do justice to a recapitulation of my summer, though, so I'm going to postpone that tale until next week... or whenever I get around to writing it. Instead I'll just give an update on NaNoWriMo, post a sonnet and call it good for the week.
Here I am, in the middle of the second full week of 1667 words per day and I'm barely hanging on to the bullet train that is NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is my second year doing NaNoWriMo and my second year deciding on a story at 11:30 pm on October 31st. It was a bit of a slow start but now that my plot has clicked in my mind things are moving along. But I don't want them to. Coming up with plot has never been a problem for me; where I struggle is in description and character development. But trying to work on what I suck at can be problematic when NaNoWriMo's only purpose is to get words on the page -- a lot of them. Whether they're total crap or not makes a rat's fart of difference but I as sure as taxes better make my word count for the day or things of a terrifying and inexplicable nature will happen. So when it comes to deciding between sitting here for an hour struggling with a paragraph of description or blazing ahead and leaving the essence my story far behind, I choose the latter. I have to remind myself that NaNoWriMo isn't just about writing a lot of words, it's fighting through a paragraph of description here and there; it's closing all seventeen of those YouTube tabs and opening up a blank document; it's, for one month, devoting yourself entirely to something most people would have to be crazy to do (oh wait... never mind) while at the same time not forgetting to eat, do homework, go to your job, talk to family, acknowledge friends, etc.; it's getting better at the process of writing -- if not writing 50,000 words then maybe 35,000 or 3,000. As long as new words are being created and a story is being told, I've succeeded.
Current Word Count: 20,394
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Apart from spending time with family and friends, one of the things I miss most about Minnesota is a good ol' Midwest thunderstorm. Living in the Seattle area ensures plenty of rain but very little thunder and lightning to accompany it. Even though my first trip (of two) back to Minnesota this past summer was only for a few days, the storm gods answered my prayers.
The wall of wind hits first, shaking the trees to within an inch of their life. Some can't handle it and soon many small branches and a few larger ones litter the ground. Inside the house, looking at the chaos through a pane of glass, it's nearly silent; only the muffled rustle of one hundred thousand leaves brushing against one another as they whip back and forth and a faint whistle coming through the crack under the back door can be heard. Then there's an intense flash of light immediately followed by a sonorous boom and the soft tinkle of dishes in the cupboard. When I step outside the wind whips at my t-shirt, trying to whisk me away along with thousands of leaves that were too weak to hold on. I stand firm, exhilarated by the darkening sky pierced by bent batons of light conducting the cacophonous roars of one hundred angry giants. The wind soon dies down but is succeeded by a deluge of rain. I stand under the overhang watching the rain fall in heavy sheets. Before heading back inside I step out from beneath the overhang long enough to get my hair just wet enough so that droplets of water can caress their way down the side of my face and the back of my neck. Once inside, I sit at the kitchen table sipping a hot cup of tea and listening to the placid pitter-patter of heavy raindrops overhead and the rumble of distant thunder.
Summer Thunderstorm
Divine one blissful thunderclap so few
Allow to crash upon in silent waves:
Omnipotent applause. As here with you
I lie not even clouds obstruct my gaze.
Auroral lightning flash afore our minds
Moreover blinds excessive sense absolved
By ribbons of torrential rain and winds
Around us gust the only ones involved.
Immersed in tides far more than falling tears,
Now drowned beneath euphoric hearts entwined
Beyond tornados twirling fate in peaceful years;
Eternal dark dispelled by flames mankind.
Within this flood forever snug and warm
I watch this passing Summer Thunderstorm.
I can't promise anything but I'll do my best to get, at the very least, a recapitulation of my summer classes written for next week's post. Until then, I'm logging off. There's a story to be written. Have a great rest of your week! - NLD
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Liked this post? Didn't like it?
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.
Thanks for reading!
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre
Apart from spending time with family and friends, one of the things I miss most about Minnesota is a good ol' Midwest thunderstorm. Living in the Seattle area ensures plenty of rain but very little thunder and lightning to accompany it. Even though my first trip (of two) back to Minnesota this past summer was only for a few days, the storm gods answered my prayers.
The wall of wind hits first, shaking the trees to within an inch of their life. Some can't handle it and soon many small branches and a few larger ones litter the ground. Inside the house, looking at the chaos through a pane of glass, it's nearly silent; only the muffled rustle of one hundred thousand leaves brushing against one another as they whip back and forth and a faint whistle coming through the crack under the back door can be heard. Then there's an intense flash of light immediately followed by a sonorous boom and the soft tinkle of dishes in the cupboard. When I step outside the wind whips at my t-shirt, trying to whisk me away along with thousands of leaves that were too weak to hold on. I stand firm, exhilarated by the darkening sky pierced by bent batons of light conducting the cacophonous roars of one hundred angry giants. The wind soon dies down but is succeeded by a deluge of rain. I stand under the overhang watching the rain fall in heavy sheets. Before heading back inside I step out from beneath the overhang long enough to get my hair just wet enough so that droplets of water can caress their way down the side of my face and the back of my neck. Once inside, I sit at the kitchen table sipping a hot cup of tea and listening to the placid pitter-patter of heavy raindrops overhead and the rumble of distant thunder.
Summer Thunderstorm
Divine one blissful thunderclap so few
Allow to crash upon in silent waves:
Omnipotent applause. As here with you
I lie not even clouds obstruct my gaze.
Auroral lightning flash afore our minds
Moreover blinds excessive sense absolved
By ribbons of torrential rain and winds
Around us gust the only ones involved.
Immersed in tides far more than falling tears,
Now drowned beneath euphoric hearts entwined
Beyond tornados twirling fate in peaceful years;
Eternal dark dispelled by flames mankind.
Within this flood forever snug and warm
I watch this passing Summer Thunderstorm.
I can't promise anything but I'll do my best to get, at the very least, a recapitulation of my summer classes written for next week's post. Until then, I'm logging off. There's a story to be written. Have a great rest of your week! - NLD
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Liked this post? Didn't like it?
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.
Thanks for reading!
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre
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