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I did finish the novel in progress last night

November 6, 2019 by Susanne Leave a Comment

So that happened:

IMG 0426

Now I am a little brain dead, this week is somewhat bonkers and I still want to write 50,000 more words in November.

I am knitting a sweater for my husband and am really looking forward to the weekend where I have nothing planned at all.

I’ll be back here with a new update on Monday, see you then.

Filed Under: NaNoWriMo, writing

And I’m doing Camp NaNoWriMo again

April 26, 2017 by Susanne Leave a Comment

One of the reasons that I haven’t written much here lately – even though I made a commitment to myself to post something once a week at least – has been that I’m in the middle of doing Camp NaNoWriMo yet again. I had wanted to write the first draft of the third in the current trilogy, and so I thought that would be a good thing so that I could write that faster. I’m not quite sure why but NaNo works for me every time.

Of course right now I’m at that stage where I am completely convinced that the whole story is crap, that nobody ever would want to read it – me included – and that stopping it and starting something else would be a fabulous idea.

And of course there is only one thing one can do in a situation like this: finish writing it.

Because it’s always the same. I am a little more than halfway through the story right now, and that is always when I lose interest. Writing middles is hard for me, and now that I know where this is going, and what will happen it’s not all that exciting anymore. And I’ve been sitting down to write every day for three weeks now, okay, most days, and it’s starting to get old.

I also stopped revision on the second novel so that I could take advantage of Camp NaNoWriMo for the third one. I’m still not sure if that was a good thing but that’s what I did, and now I’m stuck with it.

I am hoping that I’ll be able to pick that revision up again at the beginning of May, and that my notes and my memory of what happened, and what I want this book to be are good enough that I can sit down and actually make the cut. And that I then will be disciplined enough to sit down and revise novel number three.

Discipline is kickking my ass, by the way. I still get up at five, and the benefits are big enough that I want to continue doing that but I’m still not going to bed early enough, and so my whole world consists of tiredness right now. It is somewhat alright in the mornings which is why I can write at all but as the day goes on ot becomes harder and harder. Until I lack the willpower to turn off the lights at night.

And this weekend things will be extra-interesting because we have rehearsal, and even a kind of dress rehearsal for the thing we’re going to play at the beginning of May, and that means not only will I have to be coherent and with people until my bedtime and beyond, I will also have to sing and play and focus on what I’m doing at a time where I usually just slump around reading.

And before that I will have to get beds ready for the musicians who stay overnight, and help my husband make food for them, and do dishes like crazy, and go to the grocery store, and help set up for rehearsal.

In fact, it’s not quite seven yet, and I feel like crawling back into bed already.

Still, I will have to find a way to write my 2,500 words today, and do everything I need to do, and be nice and polite and professional.

So yeah, that is why I haven’t posted here this week. I did write lots and lots of words, though, so I hope that’s alright with you.

Filed Under: NaNoWriMo, writing

Why I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year

October 10, 2015 by Susanne 2 Comments

I was sorely tempted. I love NaNoWriMo. I love the challenge, and the exhilaration of doing something almost impossible but not quite. I love the rush when I have fallen behind and then I sit down and hammer out 5,000 words in a day.I do not love how I feel after that, though.

I will forever be grateful for NaNoWriMo because without it I probably would never have gotten beyond the very first words of any story. I wouldn’t have met the writers that formed the group that met every month for five years. And I wouldn’t have the almost-finished novel sitting as a stack of paper on my desk.

But.

While I usually finish and „win“ NaNoWriMo I also usually stop writing for about two months afterwards. After pressing out all those words I just sit back and don’t write at all. Even if I want to. And getting back into a daily writing habit actually becomes harder after having written almost 2,000 words every day.

And I want to become a real writer some day, someone who writes novel after novel, not someone who writes half a novel once a year and then never finishes it. In order to do that I need a habit of writing something between 500 and 1,000 words a day. I also need the very new habit of revising, finishing, and publishing things but first of all I need to write.

You can’t publish what you haven’t written.

500 words a day used to be pretty sustainable. Especially when I managed to start writing at about 8 am. I’d clean the breakfast table off, get the laptop out (no wifi!), and start writing. Half an hour later I’d usually have my 500 words and life was good.

Then my husband started getting up earlier. Instead of 9.15 he’d be up and about at 8.30, and if I had dawdled a bit over tea I had a problem. Mind you, my husband is all for creativity so if I told him that I desperately need that time to write he’d stay in the annex until 9.15.

But this time over breakfast is the only time we spend together all day. And it’s a bit cruel to have someone postpone his breakfast for an hour after waking up hungry.

So what I need in my life is a flexible habit of writing about 500 to 1,000 words a day. One that I can move around a bit if need be. Not a mad dash to „winning“ an arbitrary competition. A small daily thing.

And I think I may have found a solution. First I need to bring my laptop into the kitchen again so that I have it in the morning when I want to write. And second my schedule just changed, and I’m having more breaks in the afternoon again. And I really hope that on days when I don’t manage to write in the morning I can use those breaks.

So instead of big, mad, crazy, fun challenge I’m choosing slow and steady this year. I hope it works.

Wish me luck.

Filed Under: life, writing

Working on revision

March 2, 2014 by Susanne Leave a Comment

And since it’s carnival break for the next week I can just leave it on my desk:

revision

Happiness is not having to put everything away all the time.

Filed Under: happiness, life, writing

And I’m doing it again this year

November 4, 2012 by Susanne Leave a Comment

It’s November already, the last resort of near-normalness before the madness that is Christmas season, and this year unlike last year I’m doing it again, NaNoWriMo. I’m attempting to write a novel (or rather most of a novel, 50,000 words) until the end of the month.

It’s already driving me crazy a bit, and it’s only the fourth day. This time I planned to plot ahead, to plan, to be sensible, and write my 2,000 words a day in the mornings, and yet  – I haven’t I did some plotting, and even got me another book on how to plot, Holly Lisle’s “Create a Plot Clinic”, the first ever book on plot that I’ve found really useful.

I think the chapter on “how to plot while writing” will get a lot of use this year.

Unlike other years the writing is already feeling slow and painful, right from the beginning, no starting euphoria for me this year. But that’s not a problem, I’ll just slog on, until I don’t, and then I’ll think about giving in and not finishing, and then I’ll get really cranky, and then I’ll buckle down, and write several thousand words in a day, and then again, and then again, and then I’ll probably finish early.

If this year is anything like the years before.

Everybody is asking me what I’m writing about, and I find it rather hard to say but I know that I’m attempting Urban Fantasy, only up until now it’s neither Urban nor Fantasy but then I’m only 5,000 words in, and there will be things happening soon. Or so I hope. And unlike other years I already have an idea of what will be happening. Which is kind of exciting.

My main character is a 30yo jazz pianist. I know where she lives because it’s my husband’s ex’s house. Fortunately for both of them my main character, Miriam (or maybe Sarah, I have a character sheet saying ‘Sarah’ as the title, and under name it says ‘Miriam’; maybe that’s my problem), is fictional so my husband’s ex won’t be disturbed by her living in the same space. Or by the grand piano that I plopped down in her living room.

So, I have this jazz pianist, a witch, vampires, and the odd musician. The witch is in danger, the pianist has to help her, she will find out something surprising about herself, and that’s all I know so far.

But. November is the month of arbitrary deadlines not only for novel writers but also for knitters! And so I am once again also attempting to knit a whole adult sweater in November. This year I’m making something for my husband. I’m using the cable from one sweater, and the pattern from another, and it’s teal, and it looks rather nice so far. I’m only a bit afraid that it will come out a little too small because that’s what it looks like right now on the needle. But I washed my swatch, and it grew enormously so for now I’ll trust the swatch and knit on.

And since I don’t have a picture of the sweater I’ll leave you with the beginning of my story:

Usually I feel bad when I come back home and the sun us already up, but this time it actually felt kind of nice. The evening before I had played the semi-regular at the jazz club, and since I could use the piano there I had left my car sitting in the driveway and had taken the bike to work. So to speak.

It’s much easier not to have to find a parking spot in the city center, and I can have a beer because the police never checks on bikers anyway.

I opened the gate and pushed the bike through into the garden. I’m lucky to have a house all to myself in one of the nicer parts of town set back in a huge garden. Of course it’s more a shed than a house, and it and the garden around it belongs to my landlords but still. It used to be a pottery up until the day the potter fell in love with a woman who wasn’t his wife, and packed his belongings complete with kiln up and left. His former wife, his three children, and his mother-in-law still live in the big house that sits nearer to the street, but they didn’t have any use for the pottery any more. A friend of a friend told me about it, and I asked if I could move in.

 

It’s always hard to find a place to live in this city but it’s extra hard when you are a jazz musician. A jazz musician with a grand piano, and not much else. There aren’t all that many people who want to live next to someone who plays the piano for hours, and hours every day. And there aren’t all that many landlords who want to rent out to someone who never quite knows where the next gig will come from.

But the old lady has a weak spot for artists. Which is how she ended up with a potter. Who was the one who built the house and the shed on land that belonged to his family. And later he had an apprentice because none of his children wanted to become a potter, and the apprentice fell in love with his youngest daughter, and so when he became to sick to work his apprentice took over the business. Until he moved out.

 

My home is basically just one big room. There is a smaller room in the back that used to have the kiln in it, and I walled off another part for a bathroom but there are no rooms as such. I unlocked the wooden door, wheeled my bike inside, and put it on the hooks I have screwed into the wall. 

Filed Under: NaNoWriMo, writing

Story of the month – Untitled

October 31, 2011 by Susanne 3 Comments

This story was written at the beginning of October. The monthly topic had been “sex” but I didn’t really want to write about that. I’m thinking about writing a bit more about this character – what do you think?


I was really fed up with all that flirting, and the cat calls, so I decided to get fat.

Just the night before I had been out, and there had been several guys touching my behind in the club, a co-worker had made googly eyes at me, and on my way home there had been the usual cluster of Turkish teenagers on the street who had called out to me.

I really had enough.

I don’t mind sex, not at all, it’s just that I prefer not to think about it while it’s not happening, and I would like to be able to have a good time without having to fend off all these guys.

Getting fat wouldn’t happen over night, I knew that, so I needed some additional help. How to become uninteresting to men? Or better yet how to become unattractive?

I had the whole weekend before me to think about it. First I went shopping of course. I needed fattening foods. And beer. And soda. I hadn’t bought that much junk food in years.

Next I thought about clothes. That was easy. No heels, no mini-skirts, no cleavage. No make-up. Though I have to say that in my experience most guys can’t even tell if you’re wearing make-up until you go for the very red lipstick. That’s something they all react to.

Fortunately I did have a couple of outfits that would work. Baggy pants, sweatpants, an over-sized hoodie that I love to wear on weekends, a couple of old t-shirts, sneakers, the Birkenstocks that I wear around the house – all set.

So I laid back on the couch for a weekend marathon of watching TV and eating junk.

It was a good idea that I hadn’t started on the beer yet when the phone rang. It was my mother. Of course it was my mother, it was Saturday so she demanded her weekly phone call.

„Hi mom.“

„Darling, why haven’t you called me, is something wrong?“

„Mom, it’s only early afternoon, nothing is wrong.“

„You sound weird. Are you eating?“

„Yes I’m eating mom, it’s lunch time after all.“

„You are eating properly, aren’t you?“

„Of course mom.“

„Are you eating something warm?“

„Of course mom.“

„What are you having?“

„Potatoes, hamburgers and green beans.“

„You should have made meatloaf. That doesn’t have as much fat.“

„Yes mom.“ I looked at the half-eaten bag of potato chips on the couch table.

„And how’s it going with that nice co-worker of yours? Has he asked you out?“

„We were out with a bunch of others yesterday, mom.“

„That’s not a date. But it’s a start. How did it go?“

„It was okay. I don’t know.“

„You really should try a little harder. It’s not healthy being all alone.“

„Mom, I like being alone.“

„Nonsense, nobody likes being alone.“

Then she went on about what her doctor had said, and that my aunt was mad at me for not sending her a birthday card, and then half an hour later I finally got off the phone.

I grabbed the remote to start the film again when the phone rang again. This time it was Laura. I had met her through work, and we went out together a lot.

„Hi Laura.“

„Hi. Look, I need you to go shopping with me this afternoon.“

„Why?“

„Because I need something to wear to the party tonight.“

„Which party?“

„Are you crazy? The party. Zach’s party.“

„Sorry, I forgot.“

„You really are crazy. So I thought we could meet in an hour at Starbucks. Maybe we’ll even find something for you too.“

„Um. Okay?“

„See you.“

Damn phone. Why did I always answer it? I was perfectly happy sitting here, eating chips, drinking soda and watching a movie, and then those people barged in calling me in the middle of the day.

I didn’t want to go shopping. And I didn’t want to discuss my eating habits or love life with my mother.

Still I got ready to meet Laura at Starbucks. First I thought about just going as I were but then I decided against the sweatpants, and changed into some jeans. No make-up, the hoodie, and sneakers. I didn’t know what to do about my hair. After trying a ponytail (too uncomfortable), letting it hang down (too attractive), a braid in the back (didn’t work with the hood), I did two pigtails. Not attractive at all but for some reason they made me smile. Pippi Longstocking in a hoodie. Since I wasn’t wearing any make-up I didn’t need to carry a purse so I just put my wallet, phone, and keys into my jeans pockets.

When I got to Starbucks of course Laura wasn’t there. I should have known it before she was never on time. I got myself a hot chocolate with cream even though I already felt quite full after all the chips and sweets before but I had to keep on with the fattening.

From what I saw my plan did work. Not one of the men I had passed on my way there had looked at me twice. I probably didn’t even register as female. Great. No smiles, now whistling, no one talking to me on the train, it was simply perfect.

I pulled out my smartphone and started reading a novel. Good thing I had that with me. Half an hour later Laura entered the shop. One couldn’t miss her. She went and ordered coffee without even looking for me first. She just assumed I would come to find her. Which I did. Even though I would have preferred to read my book. But that was no way to behave. I grabbed the rest of my hot chocolate and went over to her.

„There you are.“ she said looking me up and down, „What’s wrong with you?“

„Hi, nice to see you too.“ I said.

„No, really, what’s wrong? You don’t even wear makeup. Nice jeans, though, but the hoodie is really horrible. Looks like a tent on you.“

„Well,“ I looked down at my shoes, „well,“ I wanted to say there was nothing wrong but then it hit me, „Well, I guess I’m just not feeling that well. Maybe I should have stayed home.“ I looked up into her eyes, „but I didn’t want to let you down.“

„That’s really sweet of you.“ she said automatically, „are you sick or something?“

„I’m not sure,“ I said, „I’m probably coming down with something.“ I snuffled a bit.

„Don’t touch me,“ she said, „don’t touch me, I can’t afford to get sick now. You know what, you just go home and get better, I think I can manage on my own. See you.“ And with that she swept out of the door leaving me standing there on my own.

I waited for the bad feeling of rejection to come but instead I felt rather good. Giddy almost. I didn’t have to go shopping. I could just get back home, and do whatever I wanted. And I didn’t even have to look good while doing it.

I threw the rest of my hot chocolate away, and got out the door too. On my way to the subway I realized how good it felt to walk. Especially in these shoes. For years now I had always worn heels because they are so much more flattering. Of course you’re not expected to walk anywhere in those. And if you do you start hurting. But walking in sneakers was that much better. The hoodie felt like I had brought a blanket with me. Nice and comfy and warm. I pulled up the hood against the wind that had started to blow.

Walking like this was great. I could even walk all the way home. And that’s just what I did. And on the way no one even looked at me. I was just some person in the street, some uninteresting person in the street that no on wanted anything from.

And later there would be pizza for dinner. And beer. And ice cream.

Filed Under: story of the month, writing

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