When I was at school...

I wanted to be a writer of some kind, but the teachers at my school said no that's not a career, you need to do something practical to earn money. So, partly because my parents had paid a small fortune for my education and partly because then I was a superficially compliant girl, I followed their advice and chose something else that made them, but necessarily me, happy. Of course as soon as I left school I did something completely different just to be annoying, finally falling into my career by chance in my twenties. Don't get me wrong on a good day I still kind of, sort of, like my job, but today, some 20 years after I left school, I printed out the 130 pages of my NaNoWriMo novel and I want to look all those teachers in the eye and tell them "You were wrong. I am a writer."

Yes Yes Yes

50,791 words written since the beginning of November.

Jumping The Shark?

I had an Eureka moment this morning. I was sitting in the bath (how appropriate) mulling over my NaNoWriMo dilemma (see previous post)and trying to work out of I could write my characters out of their rut. I was just at the point where the goose pimples were beginning to form as an idea popped into my head, a stupid ridiculous idea that would make even the creators of the 24 amnesia plot blush, but still.

Six Characters In Seach of

I am still plugging on with NaNoWriMo and have written just over 32,000 words. Which amazes me. If I want to make it through I have just over a week to write 18,000 words, or just about 2,000 words a day. Doesn't sound much does it but "there lies the rub". To all those writers out there who have ever commented that their "characters wrote themselves" at which I used to laugh hysterically, I'm sorry. I believe you now. Somewhere between 20,000 and 25,000 words my characters staged a rebellion, took over the keyboard and began to write themselves. Well why don't you just sit back and relax and let them finish you may ask? The bloody idiots have written themselves into a nice little plothole with no visible means of escape and are looking at me in the same way Oliver used to look at Stan, "here's another nice mess you've gotten me into".

Hmmm

For all those who are asking, here is a short extract from the NaNoWriMo work in progress, I make no claims as to its worth or even coherence as this is the novel writing equivalent of going for the world land speed record and I am definitely speeding over those salt flats without a seat belt right now. So here goes with a very small extract from yesterday's efforts.

'Go see your son, he's supposed to be sleeping'.

Of course he wasn't, he was standing up in his cot looking fretfully through the bars, starting to wail the moment he saw me. I picked him up and he smiled at me through his tears, reaching out for the half-eaten carrot stick in my hand, which he sniffed at before throwing it to the floor. He snuggled down into my arms, his clear blue eyes blinking up as me as I sniffed in his fresh, innocent smell and suddenly all the fears I had held at bay over the last few days came flooding through. If this all went wrong I wouldn't be able to protect him, to keep him safe and secure, possibly not even be a father to him again. His fingers reached out for mine and gripping them tight he sighed contentedly as the tears rolled gently down my cheeks. His regular breathing calmed my fears as he softly slipped into sleep. I tenderly placed him back in his cot, and as he rolled reaching for his bear I pulled the covers over him and kissed him goodnight.

Oh yes and I am still slightly ahead of schedule with 8,360 words under my belt.