Writing fun

Here's how writing and exercise are alike: I love how they feel when I do them, but procrastinate like the devil before I get to it. What is that about?

During the month of November, I wrote nearly every day. I had the challenge of doing NaNoWriMo and wanted to succeed at writing 50,000 words on a new novel during the 30 days of November. I did it, as I have done for several years now. The unfinished novels are beginning to pile up, but they've also been the seed for publishing the books I have now on Amazon.

This past November I returned to my favorite genre, historical lesbian fiction.  It weds my favorite subjects and gives me the chance to stretch by doing research and NOT falling into the trap of formulaic writing. (At least I hope I don't fall down that hole!) So I was a happy little clam getting ready to write and having the story take shape day by day. I only missed one or two days of writing in November. When I reached the 50,000 mark, the book wasn't finished, but it was maybe 2/3 done. And I haven't looked at it since.

When I'm under the time crunch of Nano, I am just piling up words, not looking for deathless prose. The point is to put so many words into it that I won't just abandon the effort later. There are predictable stages, including the 30,000 word slump when the whole thing seems not just impossible but a stupid idea in the first place. By then, I'm usually floundering around with too many characters running off in all directions, too many storylines to keep track of, and no clear idea how to bring it all together. And really, that's the way it stays all the way till 50,000. What keeps me going is the word-o-meter.

So this week, I pull up the file for the first time since Nov. 30, convinced that I'm going to be reading a pile of jumbled up trash that may not even be salvageable. And what do I find? It's a story I want to read. I can't remember what all I've written, since I've never read it over. It's like a new book, and it keeps pulling me forward. The story is better than I thought it would be, the characters are developing well, and there are some really good individual sentences ----- I love a good sentence!

It's not perfect, of course. It's a first draft of a Nano book. I'm excising, rearranging, editing, expanding. But that's fun, too. What is so exciting for me is that, contrary to what I've been telling myself for the last 6 weeks, I actually DO have a viable book here. I'll be able to finish it and send it on it's way to join its sisters in the wider world. I'll watch it bob around in that big sea of books and know from experience that it's going to wash up on shores farther away than I'll ever see.

And then I'll go back and finish Nano 2010, a baby I've been shaping and polishing for a year and a half and still haven't found the ending.

Why in the world would I procrastinate about doing something that is this much fun?

Silly Writer.

Procrasti-blogging

Right up front I'll tell you I'm behind on my NaNoWriMo word count, so the obvious thing to do is put off writing and do a blog post instead. Of course, I can justify it as priming the creative pump. And thanks to my niece, Emily, for the title. She said she was procrasti-baking ---- an activity that I can certainly get behind ---- instead of doing her homework.

This morning feels like near normal. Jill went to work without waking us up. Jack is at the Heritage. Mom and I both woke up about the same time and had breakfast and did some housekeeping. She's at her best in the morning, so we were able to talk and laugh over blueberry smoothies and English muffins.

As we were tidying up, I started thinking about all the people and animals who are represented in this household. I have to admit that I have the gene for hoarding, though I do all in my power to keep it under control. Sort of. It dovetails my rock-bottom belief that material culture is what tells the story of the past. So you can well imagine who's the first in line with her hand up, when there are family heirlooms up for grabs. We have, in this 1800 sq. ft. house, furniture, books, letters, photographs and clothing that span 5 identifiable generations. And now, with the addition of Lucky Lu on top of the entertainment center in a wonderful little wooden box, the ashes of two loved ones.

That brings up the question for me ---- what's to become of all the ashes? Think about it. Many, many more people are being cremated these days. Now, I know that lots of times the ashes are spread across mountains and oceans and favorite park ponds. But my bet is that there is a growing number of households across the country who have forebears parked along the mantle piece or stashed on the dresser. When my father died, we buried some in the family plot, spread some over the graves of his parents, dusted the "graveyard" in back of the house and still had ashes left over. I have them in a Christmas box on top of the music cabinet that belonged to his mother, along with a couple of pictures of him. I like having him in the house. I like having Lucky here, too.

But one day, Jill and I will expire and we may have an entire shrine of deceased family members, human and otherwise, for somebody else to dispose of. Can you imagine the conversation?

"Who wants Grandma?"
"Well, I suppose I could take both of them, but I don't have room for everybody."
"Uncle Ralph? Anybody taking Uncle Ralph?"
"I'll take half if somebody else will take the rest. I've already got Aunt Barb."
"And what about the dogs?"
Dead silence.

I think about what a task it will be to dismantle our household one day. We have some splendid furniture that's already a century and a half old and probably should not be sat upon any more, though we do. We have mementos from all over Europe that the folks picked up and passed along. And I have quite the collection of my own things, though nothing that's of any dollar value, I don't think. Should I spare the kids the problem of disposing of my things, or leave it up to them? I have the advantage of having spawned a congenital, as well as professional, curator, who shares my archival sensibility. I pity her poor, future spouse, who will get a delightful partner and a houseful of STUFF!

For the moment, though, there is nothing that must be done besides unpacking the last 6 boxes that came with Mom and finding places to put it all. Oh yes, and write 4,000 Nano words.

Or maybe bake a banana bread . . . those bananas are getting mighty spotted.