Day 2

Eh. Not bad - not great either. Only did about half my intended quota but didn't actually expect I would get this much done on my lunch break. Tomorrow gets to be my massive catch up day. Most of the first scene I'm working on is done. There is a slim chance I might get more done tonight but since I'm spending the night at Liz's this seems unlikely unless we choose the highly romantic option of ignoring each other in favour of our novels.

And so it begins...

Bleh, bad lollyblogging Dan - no cookie for you. Life has been remarkably busy the last few weeks between the deer, having to take care of stuff while my parents were out of town, and midterms. Oh well - November has arrived and caught me rather off guard. I swear I still had a few more weeks to prepare. I guess I will be writing a little more by the seat of my pants than I had hoped.

Halloween eve was nice being able to tramp the wee beasties about trick-or-treating. I hadn't gone trick-or-treating since I was about 12 so it was neat to go with them even though I was running herd rather than collecting loot. However Halloween has never filled me with such dread and terror before. First off Nanowrimo was to begin the next day and I felt (and still feel) woefully underprepared for this insanity. Add to that the horrible nightmares that I have about the possibility of Bush winning the election tomorrow. Not really Halloween related other than by proximity of date but hey Halloween finally started working it's sinister magic on me.

Today's novel writing was remarkably inadequate. Well I guess I'll make it up tomorrow. Actually I probably won't unless I have trouble sleeping - I'll make it up Wednesday I guess. Pretty pathetic considering I've known I was going to do this for months and have been preparing while Liz who has only been planning for a couple weeks (while denying she was) managed to exceed quota for today despite being sick. Obvious conclusion - I suck.

Oh Deer...

Well tuesday night was very...interesting.

Since our dance class had been cancelled due to mid-terms, Liz and I headed over to Star and Eric's to assess what work needed to be done in order to render the basement area into a livable area. ((On that note if anyone knows how to do handy things like put up walls, doors, and drywall let us know since we would love some competent help))

Unfortunately for us, Kestrel was not there having stayed with Jeff watching her after Star got back from her doctor's appointment. Instead I was forced to sate myself on the company of Aria and 'Sana. Which mostly consisted of vigorous hugging and a half hour of the 'Hat' game which consists of 'Sana thwapping a hat onto my head and announcing "AT" then removing it and repeating.

While we had originally intended to practice dancing we received an invitation to go out to the movie "Shall we Dance?". Watching a movie about ballroom dancing seemed a viable alternative to actually ballroom dancing and since both Liz and I had been fairly anti-social for the last couple weeks we decided to go. The movie was entertaining, though so heavy handed at times that it was painful. The dance scenes were well coreographed and very beautiful though I think it would have benefitted from more distant shots allowing you to see the couple dancing rather than the close-ups on their chest and heads. Though we spent the movie looking for them neither Liz nor I were able to spot Dominique or Delphine (our dance instructor and his partner) in any of the scenes, though I did find some pictures of them on set at their website for those who were wondering what they looked like.

After the movie our departure to get Liz home and to sleep was delayed slightly. First Jeanne-Marie, understandably, had a bit of a breakdown about the fact she is no longer capable of dancing due to her knee's. Then we detoured a bit to drop Myrna off at home. Neither of these were particularly large delays but they did add up when you are looking at a (blech) 4:30 start. After dropping Star off as well and saying hello to Eric and James we finally got headed home. Along the way we debated whether or not we should go to Liz's place or mine. Eventually we decided that since mine was a bit closer we could net nearly an extra hour of sleep between arriving that evening and the time saved driving Liz to work in the morning.

This was a mistake - the spiteful gods of irony seem to have it out for me.

Not more than 300 meters past the exit ramp we would have used to go to Liz's apartment we had an accident. One moment we were driving along and the next the headlights were filled with a deer as it rushed up to meet us. I must say that I am amazed at how fast a mind actually works because in the paltry seconds between first seeing the deer and hitting it I managed to have a complete line of reasoning. I considered trying to swerve out of the way and discarded the notion as foolish since we would still hit the deer and then crash into the ditch which probably would hurt us even more.

The whole incident in my mind is like watching a slide show:
Slide 1: a darkened highway, framed by snow - visible in the cone of my headlights.
Slide 2: a young doe, perhaps two years old, stands in the center of the lane. her head turned to look our direction.
Slide 3: the moment before impact the doe hasn't moved. she stands there with a confused look in her eyes. Liz screams.
Slide 4: the crumpling of metal. the doe is upside down, her light brown fur is pressed into the windshield.
Slide 5: darkness. the pounding of my heart. silence.

We just sat there in the dark and quiet for a moment. I presume I pulled over and stopped but I actually don't remember doing that. Our hands melded together. Finally Liz asked if I was ok. To her credit she didn't belt me for pointing out the obvious when I replied "I think I just hit a deer". Then I did what any responsible adult would - I called my Mummy. Eventually I made all the calls I had to - AMA was coming to collect the car, my mother was coming to collect us, and the police said to come by during office hours and fill out a report. I also learned something very important about myself - when I have a great deal of adrenaline running through my body I lose the ability to deal rationally with people who piss me off. For reference in case this isn't obvious to anyone - when a car is pulled off a cold, dark road with it's four-way flashers on it isn't there for it's health or fun, nor is it there to personally offend you, SO DON'T FUCKING HONK AT IT!!!

As for the deer it is somewhat unfortunate that she survived the initial impact. She lay in the snowy ditch struggling to pull herself out. Either when the car swiped out her legs or in the hard landing after bouncing over us, she had broken both her hind legs. She flailed about unable to accept what I realised as soon as I saw her after the collision - she was already dead and just had to wait for that fact to catch up to her. I wish I had a rifle with me so that I could have ended her pain there instead of leaving her to lie slowly freezing to death with the agony of a shattered body. I am a pacifist, I don't like the idea that I have hurt another living being - I can't even eat meat if I allow myself to think about how most of those animals were killed. And here I was having just taken a life. Never mind that I couldn't have avoided it - I still felt terribly guilty. Then when I began wondering if this was the same doe who just weeks before had so thrilled Kestrel at Thanksgiving when I held her up high on the deck to watch her grazing the black currents, it just made things worse.

Eventually my mother came and picked us up and drove us back to our house. The adrenaline had worn down and now I found myself ravenously hungry, despite the fact that the accident left my stomach churning. By the time Liz and I ate and dragged ourselves down to bed it had past 12:30 - so much for the idea that coming to my place would net us extra sleep.

By morning I was feeling somewhat better - not very well rested as visions of deer rushing towards me had kept waking me up. My sheets were soaked with sweat, and to Liz's credit she didn't even complain - she just took me in her arms and told me that it would be ok. We got ready and ate breakfast before heading out to take Liz to work. Thankfully my father had left for a week to North Carolina so I was able to steal his car, since I don't know how we would have worked it otherwise.

It was still dark as we departed. The sun knew that there was no point waking before 8 and so it left us fools in the shadows. Our route took us back down the same road as the collision had happened the night before. Almost exactly a kilometer closer to my home my heart nearly stopped. Out of the other ditch bounded a young buck - leaping across the lane to land dead in front of me. This time my super fast internal monologue decided to try and avoid this collision since he was moving and I actually had a chance. Swerving into the other lane I narrowly avoided adding an additional white-tail to my guilt by less than a foot.

As I pulled the car back into our lane I was left shaking. Terror, relief, or something else I'm not sure. I dealt with this surprisingly less well than the actual accident, retreating into the comfortable distance of joking about it and talking about other things. But I was still shaking that afternoon. It's silly to be more bothered by the accident that didn't happen rather than the one that did but yet I am.

This morning I took another route to get to school. After all the buck might be waiting there...

Paper and the joys therein

So its only related to writing in the most tenuous sense - ya get what ya pay for.

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Once a long time ago I used to like paper. Then I started my current job. Now paper has become the enemy.

It used to be that I loved paper The texture of cheap pages as I curled up in a blanket with my latest paperback novel were part of the experience. That somewhat slick almost newspapery feel got deeply associated with the ritual of immersing myself into a fictional world. On a daily basis I would burn through a small forest of loose-leaf as I wrote notes, scribbled drawings, or otherwise entertained myself. When I cleaned my room I was left with hundreds of forgotten pages that I then had to pass judgement on - saved for posterity or cast into the oblivion of the recycling bin.

These days just the thought of paper leaves me with cold sweats. The five foot tall stacks of paper that surround the office computer desk teeter threateningly above me, waiting until I least expect the avalanche of paper. The crinkle of pages leaves the now healed wound where I wore a hole through my skin simply by flipping too many pages aching in the memory. No longer do I have the baby soft hands so beloved by those who once received massages from me - now my pads are toughened enough that you might think I commit the atrocious sin of manual labour.

Finally we have finished the paper which was damaged by the flooding of the basement. Paper that was old and nasty in the first place soaked up the water - turning parchment tough, melding together, burning rusty staples through entire files, bleeding ink, and growing mold in colours I wasn't aware existed. One day Liz asked me "You remember that I'm allergic to fungus, so wash your hands before you touch me", to which I replied "Darling, I wouldn't touch myself with this stuff on me". If this job hadn't turned me off the concept of paper already - the discovery of what water damage can do to it as I worked my way through 20 odd feet of this would have done me in. Thankfully, by comparison the normal files are sheer joy to work with.

They keep talking about how the digital revolution will eventually render paper obsolete. From my perspective, as I convert 3 decades of paper into electrons, it couldn't happen soon enough.

I'm not dead yet!

Thanksgiving weekend was long and thoroughly tiring. It left my belly full of turkey, pumpkin pie, and other wonderful foods. I had a great deal of fun and was very glad that I could formally introduce Liz and Kestrel to my family. However it proved very bad for my regular updates and novel preparation - luckily for me November doesn’t have any of these pesky family events that I must attend so hopefully this sort of distraction won’t kill my word count.

Yesterday was also quite good, before my ballroom dance class I zipped over to a nearby cafe where Ed Magazine was doing a photo shoot of a bunch of us Nanowrimo folk. It was pretty nifty to meet some of the faces behind the screen names and I’m glad I went even though it almost made us a couple minutes late. Having met other Nano folk I think that my odds of success this year will do much better as they are a very friendly and funny bunch. Part of my problem last year was that I lacked any real support to keep me motivated - I pumpkined rather than go to gatherings and my ‘motivator’ didn’t actually ever do anything. It left me feeling like I was writing in a vacuum and while I probably couldn’t have done the full 50,000 after getting pneumonia and quitting my job, if I had a ‘cheering squad’ I likely would have kept writing and come out with a respectable number. Oh well - live and learn I guess. This year I plan on having plenty of people to harass...err motivate...me and I will likely make several of the social gatherings but think I'll probably skip the write-ins.

On the front of good news, I think I may be succeeding in conning Liz into joining my rampaging insanity. Before she was just cackling madly about ‘incentive plans’, but after listening to me babble on and coming out and watching the photo shoot I think she may be coming around. She’s still making pesky claims that she couldn’t possibly find the time with work and moving into Star and Eric’s but given that she has a plot and a title I think that she’s just in denial. I figure that once I finish copying all the files from my desktop computer to my laptop and send the computer over to her place I figure her last objections will vanish like inhibitions at the bottom of a bottle of Tequila. Though she insists that when I sell the computer to her that I leave all my porn on it - I’m not entirely sure how one is meant to respond to a request like this, maybe I should hide it and only tell her where the folder is after she has 15,000 words...

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On another note I’m having trouble working out precisely what name I want to use for my main character. Any other brains out there that want to give it some thought on my behalf? Here’s my problem - the protagonist is female but spends the vast majority of the novel disguised as a boy so I need a feminine name that I can shorten, lengthen, or modify into a masculine name that sounds similar without creating confusion. The other main requirement is that it be an Italian name or at least follow Italian naming conventions.

Tata for now.

By the seat of my pants

Sheesh - already I'm having trouble keeping to my schedule and posting up something substantial everyday. Sigh...I guess I just need to kick myself in the ass a little more or I'm never going to manage to write the novel. Today's topic is going to be about the advantages and disadvantages of pre-planning the novel instead of just writing it as it goes along.

Historically I have been a write by the seat of your pants kind of guy. Once I got an idea I would batter it around mentally for a little bit, come up with a setting or characters (whichever wasn't the initial inspiration), then start writing the opening or a really good scene for the novel. I would get a really good momentum going and pound out some excellent scenes but slowly things would start to unravel. Generally my problem would be that I had a clear idea of who my characters were and what motived them and where I wanted the plot to end up - however I found myself at a loss of how to get to there from here.

I think my background in role-playing may be to blame for this problem since as a player I make the character, as a GM I have an idea of where I'm taking the plot, but as neither do I solely work on the middle. In roleplaying it is a give and take, each moving the plot along in ways that the other didn't expect - whereas in a novel I am solely responsible for this and can't rely on the other half of the GM/player partnership to move it along when my ideas are running short.

Last years novel ended up stalling at about 20,000 words because I didn't have a plan to take these initial motivations and difficulties that I wrote and use them as catalyst to drive the characters along and entangle them with the meat of the plot. Needless to say this pissed me off immensely since I liked the characters and the plot (at least in my opinion) quite good. Someday I imagine that I will go back and completely re-write the whole thing after running it through a serious planning stage. However that will have to wait until after this year.

This year I want to finish my novel and as the last attempt clearly demonstrated I need some pre-existing structure to pull this off. After talking to a number of other people about how they approached the planning phase of a novel, and looking over some strategies I came across one that I rather like and think should work for me. The method is called The Snowflake Process, and is put forward by a fairly nifty author by the name of Randall Ingermanson. The basic idea is that you start out with a very basic summary of the story and perform a series of sweeps that each add a new level of detail. While his opinion that writing without using a structure like this is a waste of time is not one I agree with, I still think it will make a very handy tool. The strategy as a whole is much more in depth than I had originally planned on using but I feel that even fleshing out through half the steps should leave me with a much more solid structure to hang my story off of - and if my ideas are unworkable I should know in advance of starting. So far I'm working on finishing off step 3, and we will be moving on to step 4 fairly soon.

Here's hoping that this will pay dividends when I get to writing the novel itself.

A torrid affair with my pen

Last night I got the chance to go out for coffee with Star, one of my favorite people in the worlld who I don't see nearly enough of. However one of the many things that came up over an evening of excellent conversation struck me as worthy of comment here.

One of the best things about meeting a new friendship or falling in love is the experience of coming to get to know someone intimately. Those long conversations that leave you smiling as you talk about deep ideas and beliefs. The surprises of unexpected traits like the burly football quarterback's love for smultzy romance. That the discovery of who this person really is could be one of the most invigorating experiences you can have in life.

However as time passes we fall into these confortable routines with our friends and loved ones. That our relationships, while immensely satisfying, tend towards predictability and being low key. What Star suggested is that the biggest appeal to the idea of having an affair is the experience of getting to know someone. The sinking deep into their personality and the passion that it brings to have the uncertainty and newness to this relationship. However slowly our lives fill up those limited hours that we get and we find that we simply don't have the time to get to meet new people anymore. Affairs seem perfectly designed for this purpose - they get all the passion of the new relationship and have built in reasons to break them off later to avoid the life clogging entanglements.

What this got me thinking was that while the idea of going outside of a relationship is at best distasteful to me that I have much the same attitude, just focused through a different outlet. For me both roleplaying and writing satisfy that desire to get to know people. When I start writing a character I have nice basic outline of who I think they are. However as I keep going they take on a life of their own and start doing things that I don't expect. At the same time these actions seem perfectly natural and anything else in that situation would be wrong. So I start exploring the reason and it's as if the character were taking over and telling their own story. Then eventually I reach the end of the plot and I can put it aside - sometimes I'll go back and read it later but our relationship has come to an end.

Much better than an affair I think since I have something real to show for it at the end. Plus the satisfaction is much better than the uncomfortableness of guilty sex.