chronicled & illustrated

This Jackson Pollock widget is one I found this morning on Michelle's lovely blog: Lady Language. Thank you, Michelle! I saw the website (sorry, I don't seem to have bookmarked it so I can't link it right now) several months ago and I thought was so fun and funny, but I hadn't seen the widget until this morning. I immediately got it for my very own and posted it on The PCQ.

Here's a link to some real Jackson Pollocks.

To play with it, just pass your mouse over it. Click to get a different colour. That's it. Splashing "Paint" without the clean-up.

I feel like I could use a nice long session of splashing real paint. Fingerpainting. Bodypainting. I need to break out a little. I've been writing almost everyday for two weeks now and it's getting to me even though yesterday I didn't write at all. I woke up early, worried about all the other things in my life that I've been neglecting---typical for NaNoWriMo. So I set out to do the ones I could. It was paper work and tax stuff (my favourite) and lots of little noodling things. Later, even though I had the time to write, I simply couldn't get in that frame of mind again.

Today was gruesome. Not only did I know and could-not-forget that I had to write twice as much in order to catch up, I also felt like I'd written myself into several corners.

I didn't know what the hell I was thinking when I had this character say that and the other do this! I knew that I could either go back and rewrite those things that were giving me fits or I could suck it up and figure out how to make it work for me. I decided on the sucking up choice. It remains to be seen if what I am writing will work or not, but it feels good that at least I didn't run from my own choices. I'm going to go with them for now and maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised at some future date.

A novel is like a puzzle. Do you do crosswords or sudoku? It can be like any kind of puzzle that's a challenge. It starts off kind of fun and not too hard and then you get to a point where you have to really think and then, it gets very hard and the next step is to assume that somehow the incredibly asinine editors of that particular puzzle made a mistake and there's no solution!!!! They must have goofed! It's all wrong. No way to get it to work.

But then, another part of your mind kicks in and tells you that you are a silly goosehead and of course they didn't screw it up. You realize that you have to work harder. Keep at it. Don't give up. More than anything else, ASSUME you can make it work. Be confident in the fact that if you go at it from a different perspective or angle or state of mind, you will be able to find the solution. You'll be successful and in the figuring it out part, you'll have fun and be proud of yourself.

So that's the stage of writing that happens in the second two weeks. If you find your novel is a giant challenging puzzle, keep working at it until you find out what the solution is. The editor never goofs! Silly head.

Twelve days in. Twelve is another great number. Twelve days of Christmas. Twelve Apostles. Twelve Steps. Twelve Months. Twelve Dwarves, Twelve Continents, Twelve Shopping Days till it’s too late to send my packages anywhere….oops! I went too far. Twelve is also one of those words that looks stranger and stranger the more you write it.

Today I passed the 20,000 word mark. Now it’s supposed to be smooth sailing for week, right? Something like that.

What I seem to remember from years past is that during the second weeks of the month there are a few brilliant days of massive word count because it’s all flowing stupendously well and then in there all mixed up with the Good Days, are days of complete and total misery due to the fact that what has been free flowing (sometimes disconcertedly so) set-up now has to be turned into Properly Plotted Scenes. [That's something like Properly Clotted Creams without the calories---or taste.]

It tends to get tight toward the middle of the end. Hmmm. Must be some metaphorical (or physiological) significance somewhere in that sentence….

I do not have any words of wisdom for myself tonight so I think I’ll keep this short. I simply had to blog since today on the twelfth of November, I joined NaNo—no, no—NaBloPoMo. God. I don’t even know what it stands for, but there I was: signing up, giving out all my most personal of information, signing my real name, agreeing to god-knows what terms, uploading photos of myself, writing out a way-too-long and also boring *About Me* section and signing up for about 30 groups. All I know is that I’m supposed to blog everyday in the month of November. Since I was doing it anyway, it had to be worth my time to do all that fixing up of yet again one more social networking group. Right?

Time to go. I hope those Terms of Agreement that I didn’t read didn’t include having to be brilliant.

Hah. No real chance of that on either end.

I don’t know what the title of this post means in this context but maybe I can figure it out as I write it. That kind of process goes along with the writing I do each November.

One upon a time, many years ago, I went to an Al-Anon meeting. An exercise was done where we each picked numbers from a coffee can. The numbers were from 1 to 12 and when our time came, we were to talk about that step in the AA doctrine. I was familiar with the Twelve Steps but only in a cursory way. I was new to this program and had no expertise or practice in doing any of the steps with the possible exception of Step One. I did know that one thing: I felt powerless to control anyone else’s choices. So when my time came, I said,

I got 11. Since I don’t even know what Step 11 is, I guess I just have to look at this as a reminder that I need to do Step 1, twice as often.

The group seemed to like that quite well.

So that’s where the title of this Day 11 came from. Perhaps it does relate to writing. Each day, I sit down and know only that my job is to achieve my word count. Of course, I want to write a good story. Of course, I want it to be interesting and cohesive, and well-written. I want it to build and to have not only a good plot but also fascinating sub-plots. I want it to be insightful and fun and imaginative and surprising.

But if I fill my mind with all those wants, it fills ME with dread. I don’t know how to achieve all that at once on any given day. If I think of all that, I will not get my book written. That’s why I love NaNoWriMo so much. It gives me a daily deadline and a reason to forget all that FOR NOW.

So when I sit down to write each day, I know only one thing: that I have to write at least 1667 words. On most days, I write something that pleases me to some extent. It’s never perfect. Sometimes it is drivel and I know that it will never make the finished version, but that’s okay because I’ve kept going in a forward direction. At least it shows me where I don’t want to go!

In a way, that’s like taking the First Step over and over again. Sit down and write. Tomorrow, do that again. Soon, I’ll have enough material to call it a first draft.

We worry about Step Two when we get there.

It’s going well.

I’m staying on track with the word count. It’s a little scary because I have no cushion but maybe that will come in the loveliness that is (usually; if your lucky and good) Week 2.

What?
We’re already days into Week 2?
oh my.

Yesterday one of those moments we writers live for happened.

I was doing something else. Not writing. Not thinking about writing, though I guess my mind was wandering over the literal landscape of the novel-thus-far, and without warning, an IDEA came. Whew. So great. This idea is so perfectly good and unexpected. It gives me real, plot-driven reasons to continue what I’m doing and will tie this (the third) book into the histories of the first two with such symmetry and excellence that it has left me with the FEELING that I know what I’m doing after all.

HOORAY!!!

It’s all illusion of course (that I know what I’m doing), but we writers don’t care. We love illusion.

Must. Go. Write.

I have to get my cool back so I can write today.

I’ve been searching through my computer looking for files that are lost.

I’ve never been a tidy person. Try as I do, my actual paper files are not organized perfectly. I’m always behind on filing things and even I cannot remember whether I filed car insurance papers under “I” for insurance, “C” for car or “H” for Honda. But for all that, I can usually find things.

This morning I was searching for business cards I made in August or early September. I have a folder for these things. It’s labelled: EPIC/logos, letterheads, business cards. But they aren’t there. Sheesh! I can find other things I made at that time. But these are simply not where they are supposed to be. It’s so completely frustrating!

If I can’t rely on my computer to keep the things that I’ve filed in the place I tell it to file them, what the hell can a slightly disorganized person do?! I would ordinarily assume that I’d just wasn’t paying attention and that they’d gone into an alternate graphic folder but, no. I can’t find them. And it seems even more mysterious because there are five files, one for each Board member! How could five separate files disappear?

Sigh.

Anyway, I have to give up because I’m using all my writing time to search for files that aren’t essential right now. I just kept thinking that I’d find them, because I know they have to be there! Writing time is dwindling as I have a dentist appointment this afternoon. No end to the fun today!

Yesterday went pretty well. I continue to feel that I’m setting everything up and am not sure where the plot threads are, much less where they are going. But I seem to remember that this is First Week stuff. You have to get everyone in place and the backstory related without simply plopping it on the page in one huge dollop and you have to introduce the main characters and give them a setting that the reader can visualize. It’s not the most compelling part of writing a novel. That’s the problem. But that’s also the beauty of doing so much writing in a month. Get this set up (mostly) out of the way in a week rather than a YEAR at which point, most sane people would say, “Chuck this! It’s never going to go anywhere!”

I’m still slightly behind on word count and it doesn’t look promising that I’ll catch up today, but you never know.

Sorry for the missing computer folder rant. I needed it.

UPDATE:
The word count is now on track (though God Knows if the writing I did today is worth a single dnaldo (currency of the country Dnemz in the novel I’m writing).

And, more importantly, the files were found. They were in a back-up folder in the backcountry of my computer. I don’t how that happened but I found them not through any of the dozens of Searches I did but in Recent Files—though it was at least two months since I did them. Anyway, computer, it seems I owe you and apology. You kept my files and for that I’m grateful. That I can’t find them is, I admit, my fault, not yours. I’m sorry.

In addition to that fancy camera, I got a computer drawing tablet and pen for my birthday.

I KNOW it’s going to be extremely useful
—especially once I get the hang of it—but so far, all I can think to do is play with it.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

This is one of the things I’ve done. It’s a doodle. An experiment with letters and other marks that could be letters. It was fun to do and as such, it feels as if I’m using my new tool (“For the serious photographer, designer and artist” the package states) as a toy. At what point do I begin to feel serious about it? My husband often asks when inquiring about what I did on a certain day, “Were you working or playing?”

Whew. That’s a tough one to answer. If I enjoy my work, does that mean it’s always play? If I usually enjoy my work but am dealing with a challenging problem, then is it work? Or if I am doing art for no one and no reason, but am frustrated by it, does that mean it’s work? Is doing art for no reason ever anything but play? Where’s the line between a “serious tool” for serious creative types and a toy for someone who’s “just playing?”

Ahh, I don’t care. It’s just my brain playing with words, isn’t it? And some days, that’s what art and work is all about.