Month: November 2018

NaNoWriMo – Day 22 – So close I can taste it

Or something like that, it’s a rather interesting expression I had to look up.

There’s more than one meaning, perhaps referring to being near the ocean and tasting the salt in the air, or the fact that your objecting is so close to attainment, it is assured.

But I once again digress…

49,042 words, Day 22, 8 more days to go, 1,000 odd words to make the magic 50,000.

This novel, though, is not going to be within the 50,000-word limit, it is going to be more like 60,000 words.

Currently, I’m working on the ‘surprise’ ending…

Why don’t we sit down and talk about it?

An invitation that sounds so innocuous, doesn’t it?

As accomplished as we can be at putting words on paper, what is it that makes it so difficult to sit in a chair with a camera on you, and saying words rather than writing them?

Er and um seem to crop up a lot in verbal speech.

OK, it was a simple question; “What motivates you to write?”

Damn.

My brain just turned to mush, and the words come out sounding like a drunken sailor after a night out on the town.

The written answer to the question is simple; “The idea that someone will read what I have written, and quite possibly enjoy it; that is motivation enough.”

It highlights the difficulties of the novice author.

Not only are there the constant demands of creating a ‘brand’ and building a ‘following’, but there is also the need to market oneself, and the interview is one of the more effective ways of doing this.

If only I can settle the nerves.

I mean, really, it is only my granddaughter who is conducting the interview, and the questions are relatively simple.

The trouble is, I’ve never had to do it before, well, perhaps in an interview for a job, but that is less daunting.  Those usually stick to a predefined format.

Here the narrative can go in any direction.  There are set questions, but the interviewer, in her inimitable manner, can sometimes slide a question in out of left field.

For instance, “Your character Zoe the assassin, is she based on someone you know, or an amalgam of other characters you’ve read about or seen in movies?”

That was an interesting question, and one that has several answers, but the one most relevant was; “It was the secret alter ego of one of the women I used to work with.  I asked her one day if she wasn’t doing what she was, what she would like to do.  And, surprisingly, I thought she would have made an excellent assassin, the last person you would expect.”

Of course, the next question was about what I wanted to be in an alter ego.

Maybe I’ll tell you next time.

Memories blur over time

I was reading an article about the bible the other day, and what I gathered to be the writers intent was that the end result was an accumulation of many times retold and translated stories.  Of course, it’s not quite as simple as that, but…

It sort of relates to another story I read years ago and re-enacted with a few friends to check its veracity.  What happens is the first person is given the correct story, then having memorized it, relates it to the second and then along a chain of ten people.

The story related by the tenth person, when compared to the original, had only part’s of the original story and for some reason new elements that somehow were misinterpretations of original story elements.

This perhaps could be put down to the individuals upbringing and background, which always gets used in the interpretation of what they are told.  We all use different methods to remember things and this will always impact how we interpret and relate information.

It’s also the same when three different eyewitnesses to an accident will rarely agree on the details.  Certain elements will be the same, but others will not.

A case in point, when individual family members recall events involving all of them, each will remember seminal events differently, and usually, from their perspective, it will revolve around where they perceive they fit in the family hierarchy.  A stronger brother or sister will always see it differently to a weaker one.

My childhood memories are basically different to my brothers, and I suspect those events that he fails to recall are deliberately cast away because either they didn’t affect him, or there were so horrible, he deliberately cast them out.

We all tend to do that.  Some memories he has of the so-called old days I have no recollection of.

So it seems to me memories are a choice.  We choose to remember the good ones and cast out the bad.  Was that the case of when it came to putting the biblical story down on paper (or in stone as the case may be).

However we look at it, remember it, or relate it, the old days, the days of yesteryear will always be different.  For me, the ’60s and ’70s were horrible, for everyone else, well that’s another story.

NaNoWriMo – Day 21 – Not long to go, need to write faster!

Three weeks down and the finish line is just around the corner, and over that invisible hill.

The legs are like rubber, and the going is getting harder.  I’ve never run in a marathon but I’m beginning to think I know what it might be like.

I’d hate to run out of steam and get only 49,999 words written before they cart me off to the rehydration tent.

It’s hard work, lonely work, but like building a house, you get to see the physical results of that work.

Enough, I’ve got to get back to work.

I can see the hill!

NaNoWriMo – Day 20 – Reworking the synopsis

Yes, it’s that time, nearly three weeks in, and writing a story sequentially from start to finish has some perils involved with it.

Like the plotting, and like any good actor given a bit part in a movie, the objective is to make it their own.

I think it’s called, grabbing hold of your fifteen minutes of fame and using it.

Characters do this us, they force themselves out of their restrictive cacoon.  One of mine has taken her bit part and is now the frontrunner for the villain.

How do you make such personable people drip with evil?

NaNoWriMo – Day 19 – Finally, we’ve got the internet back

After two days in the technological wilderness, we are back, which must say something about the human condition.

I’m sure, one day, the internet will collapse and billions of us will go through the same withdrawal symptoms I just did, and there’ll be a lot of clean rooms around.

Even so, there are those two items that were very prevalent when I went to school, pencils. HB or 2B, or colored, and lined paper in what was called an exercise book, 48 pages, 64 pages, 96 pages or 128 pages.

I am yet to equate words to an exercise book page, but that’s the least of my problems.

Still working on the new killer, and a perfect match for the hero.  Yes, I’m hoping we can have a happy ending for at least two characters.

The others, well, you reap what you sow!

Conversations with my cat – 19

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This is Chester, he thinks he is invisible.

No one has told him he’s not a zebra, and that he doesn’t have stripes the same color as the blinds.

I’ve told him over and over, just because he cannot see me, it doesn’t mean I can’t see him.

But, once again, we have to play the ‘game’.

I should be writing, but once again Chester has successfully distracted me.

If it was a cunning plan on his part, it worked.

 

You don’t know what you’ve got till its gone

On Sunday morning we lost the internet.  I went out onto my office and saw the flashing lights on the modem.  There was no signal.

Outside the house, a large number of trucks had blocked up the road and the closer inspection showed they were here to remove an old pole.

The only problem was our internet provider was still using it.

I imagine what happened was simple.  The power technicians or someone else moved the cable to the new pole.

It sounds simple, but I guess it wasn’t.  End result. No internet, not via the cable outside.

We had the grandchildren staying over and whilst the spectacle of removing the old pole kept their attention for about half an hour, the signs of restlessness and boredom set in soon after.

And with no internet and no cable TV, it was just about the end of the world.  Unlike in my day as a child, we had to make our own entertainment, there was no TV or internet, it was a matter of using your imagination, it seems modern children are lost without the internet, a computer, or tv

My room needed cleaning, the library had about fifty new books to put on the shelves, and the existing books needed some rearrangement, so I put them to work.

It was either that or the garden which always needs work, but one job I can’t seem to work up any enthusiasm to do.

And at the end of the day, still no internet.

I think I’m starting to get serious withdrawal symptoms.

NaNoWriMo – Day 18 – Still No Internet

More time to stretch out on the newly cleared sofa in my writing room to consider the direction the work in progress is taking.

We’ve reached a point where the guilty now have to make a move. I’m not quite sure how I want to do this, but the questioning of suspects has made it quite clear, the person in charge has covered their tracks carefully.

Will it be the case that like all people who think they have all the bases covered, make one tiny mistake that will lead to their undoing.

Fortunately, I’m not up to that part of the story but it is occupying a large part of my thoughts.

NaNoWriMo – Day 17 – Coping without technology

There are no more surprises at least for today.

We have no internet, the power company came along and removed an old pole and that was the end of it.

It’s amazing what you can’t do when there’s no internet, and then all the things you said you would do one day if only you had the time.

This mornings word count accumulates quickly without the distractions so I had the afternoon to finally clean up my workspace.

Now I can’t find anything.