Monday November 29th, 2010

The exercise:

Let us write about: the night shift.

Because I just saw a truck go by, clearing snow from the road.

Had a day of rest today before hitting the renovations again tomorrow. I'll see what I can do about cutting and fitting some more window trim and then in the evening hopefully I can do some more work on the bathroom with Kat's dad.

Second last day of NaNoWriMo writing is going okay. Update to come.

Update: day twenty-nine. One more day and then... I'm going to have to take a break, unfortunately. The story will be finished, however. Just not this year. It's time to focus on other things for a little while, Christmas in particular.

I'm not very happy about not finishing the story this month, but I think I gave it my best shot. I'll be sure to let you know when I start working on it again.

Mine:

Gary sat staring at his computer, the words on the screen blurring just enough to make him rub his eyes. Opening them again, he began reading the article from the beginning for at least the tenth time.

"I should just give up and get some sleep," he mutters, but he doesn't shift from his seat. The lights are out in his study, only the white glow from his laptop illuminating the crowded space. There are open notebooks and pens and pencils scattered all around the desk, and several reference books have set up a perimeter around his feet.

He had stopped being productive at least an hour ago, but he didn't want to face the morning without having accomplished something tonight. So he starts the article over for the eleventh time.

There is no wife waiting for him to come to bed - she left long ago, having tired of his inattention and the complete lack of progress he had made in his work. If he was going to ignore her for his pursuit of money and fame, she had observed on her way out the door, he could at least have some hope of attaining either if he wanted her to stick around.

Gary didn't really mind her leaving though. There was less distraction this way, no nagging feeling of guilt to bother him while he worked. It was easier this way, he kept telling himself. Over and over until he believed it. He didn't yet, but that was only a matter of time.

And so he began reading the article for the twelfth time.

Sunday November 28th, 2010

The exercise:

Let us write about: the fair.

Kat and I went up to Penticton today to check our their Community Christmas Fair. Let's just say that it didn't quite measure up to what we were used to seeing in Vancouver. At least we were able to pick up a few Christmas presents.

Going to give the NaNoWriMo story another go this evening. Update later.

Update: day twenty-eight. Figured something important out, feeling good about things again. Only two days to go!

Mine:

I ride the roller coasters,

I drive the bumper cars,

And though I'm always moving,

I don't get very far.

I eat the cotton candy,

I snack on deep fried bull,

And though I'm always chewing,

I don't get very full.

There is magic in the air,

There is joy all around,

And though I should be going,

There's more fun to be found.

Saturday November 27th, 2010

The exercise:

A four line poem about: the author.

See what I did there?

It's a balmy three degrees out today, so I'm thinking of taking a trip to the beach, maybe do some tanning.

Update: day twenty-seven. Just couldn't get going today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Mine:

He writes with ink-stained fingers,

Happily unknown;

If he didn't hear voices,

He'd feel quite alone.

Friday November 26th, 2010

The exercise:

Four lines of prose about: the poet.

Reno work continues - today we began putting up the inside trim on the windows, and Kat put primer on pretty much the remainder of the walls that still need painting. Tomorrow there will be more window trim work and getting the bathroom closer to completion and more painting.

Haven't done any writing yet. It'll be interesting to see how it goes, now that word count doesn't matter - it's just all about moving the story towards completion. I'm reasonably certain it's not going to happen before the end of the month. Blargh.

Update: day twenty-six. T'was nice writing without worrying about how many words I'd cobbled together.

Mine:

He sits at the window, rhymes and metaphors tumbling together in his mind. They form beautiful images and powerful lines as they coalesce into the most important poem in the history of the written word. With excitement racing through his veins like cracked out rabbits, he picks up his pen and prepares to fill the blank page with his genius.

Only, the ink has run dry.

Thursday November 25th, 2010

The exercise:

Welcome to the 900th day in a row of Daily Writing Practice. I think I shall celebrate the occasion by writing the 50,000th word in my NaNoWriMo novel this evening.

Ah, right. A prompt, you say? How about... the random CD prompt?

Go pick a song at random - use YouTube, your iPod, a CD you pick out of your collection with your eyes closed - and use its first line as the first line of your poetry or prose today. Click the label at the bottom of the post to see how things went in our many previous attempts.

Update: here you shall find day twenty-five, wherein lies my 50,000th word. As with last year's magic word, it comes courtesy of Kat. Though I must say that 'home' was a whole lot easier to work in than 'bunny' was last year.

Mine:

Cocoon by Jack Johnson

"Based on your smile, I'm betting all of this might be over soon," I said, squirming feebly.

The dragon snorted, black smoke billowing from his nostrils. The stench was overwhelming, but it was still better than the flames I had been expecting. He dragged me further into his cave, my back gouged by sharp rocks and what I suspected were human bones - I never opened my eyes to confirm that though.

Still smiling his wicked, sharp toothed smile, he flung me against the back wall, my shoulder meeting stone with a sharp crack. The pain was intense but I fought against the darkness threatening to steal my consciousness. If I passed out I wouldn't have a chance to escape.

Not that my odds were significantly better awake. But, you know, positive thoughts equal positive outcomes, or some crap like that.

"I don't suppose a big sack of gold would convince you to let me live?" I asked, shifting to a sitting position.

"Human," the dragon rumbled before shooting a column of flame at the ground at my feet, "please shut up. You are giving me a terrible headache."

My jaw dropped open and then I snapped it shut, my teeth clicking together painfully. This was not going at all like I expected it would.

But perhaps, I reflected as the dragon sat down on his hind legs, that was a good thing.

Wednesday November 24th, 2010

The exercise:

Let us write about: the thief.

Still cold out today, but at least the wind took the day off. It's supposed to get back up to around zero in the coming days, which seems more... November'ish to me.

Writing is going slowly today. Update to come.

Update: day twenty-four. Just under 1,000 words to go before the official 'win'. I would be looking forward to that a whole lot more if there wasn't so much story left to tell.

Mine:

"Can you describe the perpetrator for us, ma'am?" the police officer asked, notepad at the ready.

"Of course I can!" The woman looked shocked to be even asked such a question.

"I didn't mean to offend you, ma'am. It's just that many robbery victims are so traumatized by the experience that they have difficulty recalling important details - you know, like height, hair color, that sort of stuff."

"He's five foot nine, one hundred and sixty-five pounds. Brown hair and eyes, walks with a slight limp. Oh, he also has a small scar below his right eye."

"Wow, that's incredible! And you're sure about all this?"

"How could I not be?" she asked, looking at the man as though he might not be completely right in the head. "He is my husband, after all."

"Ah... I see. And what exactly did he steal?"

"Oh, officer," she said sadly, slumping against the door frame. "That man stole my heart!"

Tuesday November 23rd, 2010

The exercise:

Two haiku about: music.

Rest is good. Writing is going okay. Update later.

Hmm, with even a half assed effort I could have turned the above into a haiku. Oh well.

Update: day twenty-three. On track to hit 50,000 words on Thursday.

Mine:

He never dances

when the music plays; he fears

his own two left feet.

*     *     *

The hills come alive

at the sound of music - so

please use your headphones.