Friday, Nov. 1
Yes! My new MacBook is here! After tracking it from China, to Tennessee, to LA, to my city, it finally showed up at 2:02 pm today (I think I scared the FedEx man by answering the doorbell so quickly and telling him I wished I could have tracked his truck so that I could follow him in the city and get my package sooner…)
And it’s already my new BFF. I love it. And I love that it came on the first day of my new NaNoWriMo challenge. But of course, as much as I love it, life is getting in the way of me being able to maximize all the potential this beauty holds. As in: enter children, enter colds, enter nap-strike, enter dinner time, enter sibling squabbles, enter tired mommy.
And yet, I managed to squeeze out 725 words towards what I’m hoping (and wishing and doubting), will be my newest novel venture (ooh, unintentional play on words, get it?). And somehow, even though I feel glad that I wrote (period), I feel deflated. I feel that achy, nagging, unsatisfying feeling that what I wrote is utterly terrible and stupid and should just be scrapped and deleted and I should start over.
And maybe I will. After all, I had a re-do, do-over, start-again last year. And it turned out for the better. What I had initially written was predictable, sort of, as in characters that maybe too closely resembled me. And now I fear I have done something similar. And it just feels boring (am I really that boring?). So whatever pride I should feel is overshadowed by a feeling of bleh. Yes, bleh. You know what I’m talking about.
I tried writing in third person (okay, I didn’t “try”, I “did” write in third person), even though I instinctively began in first person, I went back and changed it to third. But I don’t know if I like third. I feel like it’s too far away. It’s too much like directing a play. I don’t feel connected. I like being in the character’s head, and while it’s a good exercise to write in third person (right?), I don’t know if it’s going to be the best way to start out a new project.
So success and failure all at once on Day 1. But, hey, isn’t that typical of writing? Maybe I needed to clear out the crap so that tomorrow I can come up with something more brilliant. I swear, the more thought-out the story, the more predictable it seems to be.
Or maybe if I just start at a different place in the story? Start in the middle? Start at the end? Tell it from someone else’s POV? Make something magical happen? Kill someone? Bring someone back from the dead?
I don’t know, but I better figure out something. Because I’m feeling sick of writing this story already and it’s only Day 1 (did I mention that before?). This is supposed to be fun, isn’t it? Writing is fun, right? (The author looks desperately into your eyes for approval, for reassurance, a pat on the back, a hug, anything to tell her that it’s okay to keep going, that it will get better, even if it gets worse before it gets better, it will inevitably get better as long as she doesn’t give up!)
And so, NaNoWriMo (boo hoo hoo) has begun…