I've gotten back to handwriting lately, now that the November rush is over. I never actually used to type stories very much, not until I started doing Nano and needed an automatic word counter and a way to keep track off all those pages.

I've been doing quite a bit of writing over break, which is nice. I decided to take story requests and give them as gifts, which is turning out to be quite a bit of fun. One of my friends requested a story in which Edward Cullen is killed by Lestat, who in turn is killed by Spike. Now, my friend and I both really hate Twilight, but sadly, I knew enough about it and S. Meyer's writing style to parrot it, at least a little. Which was the point.

Of three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a dead vampire. Second, he had been killed by a real vampire. And Third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Spike.

I’d never given much thought to how Edward Cullen would die. But dying in the place of good literature, literature with intriguing characters and gripping plots...seems like a good way to go. I can’t bring myself to regret the decision that brought me face-to-face with Edward’s death. They also brought me to Spike.

Have I mentioned that my friend is a Spike fangirl? Anyway, she enjoyed it.

So, yes. I've liked getting back to handwriting again. It's much easier to think of a piece of paper, not to mention make corrections and play with words. Dear God, I've fallen in love with my own handwriting. I think I should make it a font.

I'm writing almost entirely in spiral notebooks now, too. I used to only use black and white checked composition books, with the occasional fancy journal. I've given up on those journals. It's too hard to live up to them. I did finally cave and buy some moleskines, though. That lovely little set of three that are just big enough to not fit in your pocket perfectly. I'm picky about my pens, too, but I've always been picky about those. I like black pens, especially when the ink comes pouring out, nice and dark, usually thick. So for now, those are my tools of the trade.

Also, Chris Baty, the founder of Nanowrimo, sent along this e-mail to those of us who have taken the literary plunge this year. It fit so perfectly that I just have to post a little bit of it.

I ran into your 2009 NaNoWriMo novel yesterday, and it said that you two are currently "taking a break." I offered my condolences and mentioned that I'd probably be seeing you today. It quickly scribbled out a note for me to give you. The note seemed kind of personal, so I didn't read it. Here it is!

"Hi! Come back to me. I'll be better this time, I promise!"

Okay, so I accidentally read it. Wowza! That book loves you! And this is really none of my business, but if it were my business, I would tell you that you've been smart to let things cool down this month. November was a wild, tumultuous time, filled with expectations and hopes---some met, others unfulfilled. Before any of us had a chance to work out exactly where things stood with our books, the clock ran out and we were swept back into the flow of our busy lives. Our books, meanwhile, have been working themselves into a funk over their plummeting standing on our "recently accessed documents" list.

No pressure, though! You've got a lot on your plate right now, and you can't be expected to drop everything and rush back into the arms of some moony novel you just met last month.

I would, however, love to see you guys get back together in January.

Well, we already are back together, Chris. We're taking it slow this time around, but this year, I"m going to make sure that we see this relationship through to the end.
 

Nanowrimo is over, and considering all the work that I have to do, not a moment too soon. Winning was pretty exciting, but it would have only been more so if someone was actually awake to celebrate with me. It didn't help that my one other friend at home who does Nano was in Florida at the time. Well, I got to celebrate in the morning.

So what happens now? Now I study for finals (F.I.N.A.L.S. = Fuck, I Never Actually Learned this Shit) pack up my stuff, and get kicked out of my apartment for a month and a half. Now I finish making Christmahanakwaniza presents for all my friends before they leave. Now is a very busy time that will make my brain hurt quite a bit. And it's supposed to be a heartwarming time of the year, is it?

And after that, when all my finals are done and all my stuff is out of the car, after I have greeted my puppy, my family, my cat, my fish (most likely in that order; my sister never runs to the door with half the enthusiasm the dog has), and have succesfully lamented the fact that I'm going to be stuck in a place that I have hated my whole life and that I have no money for Christmahanakwanzika gift, I'm going to open up my laptop and start writing.

That sentence was 90 words, by the way.

What will I be writing? A lot, I hope. Probably, as embarrassing as it is for me to admit it, fanfics. Softer writing where no one cares very much if it's good or bad. Hell, on the pit of voles, if you spell things correctly and don't have your characters shouting "oh em gee LAWL", you're a genius. Then I want to work on a gift for one of my friends, to be delivered around her birthday in April. It's a story that she's been waiting for me to write, and may or may not involve the words "Robin" and "Hood" in conjunction with each other.

And, of course, there will be a novel entitled "One Inch Left" in the mix.

My plan is to continue writing it like I was writing it all through November. I'll probably slow down a bit, but the point is the same. The goal, however, is different. Instead of getting a high word count, the point is to finish the story. So that means I'm going to write it without worrying about quality or editing, and without worrying about what goes beyond that. I'm going to continue having fun with it, and just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing, writing, writing...

Yes, by the way. The characters will be breaking out into musical numbers.

Characters killed: 1
Awesome last words: 1 ("GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" ...Tobias, I didn't even know you knew that word!)
Waterfalls collapsed: 1
Magical powers discovered: 4
Homoerotic over/undertones: 3 (It could be either, depending on how you look at it. I'm talking to you, yaoi fangirls!)*
Unicorn riding: 1
Dangerously long seizures: 1
Plot exposition: 1
Confused and worried roommates: 2
Attacks by bugs from hell: 1
Acts Ended: 1


*Asher: I love you, man, in a totally heterosexual, buddies kind of way.

Henry: Right...

Asher: Have I mentioned that I like girls?

Henry: Yes. Yes you have.

Henry, for a short, rare time, was rendered speechless. What does anyone say to that? He might have felt bored or like he was stagnating sometimes, but he had never felt that the entire world was somehow off-kilter. It was a small, tiny, barely noticeable change. It was a small, tiny change that shifted everything to the left, and shifted Ari's entire universe. What a difference once inch left makes.

Like I said, I love it when my writing makes me laugh.

“What’s your last name?” Henry asked, searching his pockets for pen and paper. He didn’t have his phone on him. [. . .]

"Vaderchi,” Ari told him.

Henry withheld a snicker.

But that’s not what I came here to talk about today.

What I really wanted to talk about right now is the word count. The purpose of NaNoWriMo is not o produce spectacular writing. You're not going to get your novel published at the end of the month, at least not without some serious editing. The purpose of NaNaWriMo is to get people writing. It is not to produce great works of art, at least not all in the same month. But sometimes we sacrifice things to get the right amount of words.

I'm not talking about the usual things we give up during this month either, things like time, bathing, and sanity. In trying to rush through, we lose a lot of good writing. It's not gone forever. It can be recovered, but this just isn't the month to be focused on good writing. It's the month we focus on pounding out as many words as possible in the hopes that something we like comes out of it. That's another important thing: Like what you write. If you don't like it, find ways to fall in love with your novel. Even if you want to flush it down a toilet. The more you like it, the more fun you'll have with it. You can even be a terrible author like me and name your main characters Ari Vaderchi and Henry Kings.

The good thing about having to rush through this month, though, as that it allows your novel and your characters to surprise you. When the plot gets rolling, it makes up its own twists and turns and takes you--and your characters--along for the ride. It might be terribly written, but God damn is it fun. I learned so much about my characters in sentances that rambled on and paragraphs that seemed to have no point or no end.

Asher slipped inside the kitchen, pouring water from the large cistern into a clay tea kettle that had been magicked to withstand the force of his fire. A fireball, in this case, would simply not do. Tea, even in the most powerful hands, was still such a delicate thing to make. He sent a kindling fire underneath the pot and set it on a glass surface that would not be damaged by the heat. “Is there any type you prefer?” He called out into the main room and opened up one of his cupboards. Asher had a great love of teas, and fortunately, his job as a diplomat allowed him to travel and collect so many different types from many different places. Some he had paid a pretty penny for, and his collection had now grown large enough to have a cabinet of its own.

He swallowed a lump in his throat when he remembered who he used to drink tea with, who would always tease him for collecting so much and being so stingy with it all. He felt tears sting in the corners of his eyes.

Those were things that I never planned to write, but came out when I was just trying to describe a kitchen. I found out quite a bit about our friend Asher in that scene. First, he likes tea. That’s the obvious one. Next, he doesn’t like sharing his tea—it has to be with someone special to him. Or, the way he hordes it means that it’s only brought out for special occasions. Since he’s giving some to Henry, an odd visitor, but one he’s only known for a few hours, this must be either (a) a special occasion (b) someone special to him, or (c) someone he doesn’t want to disrespect. We also learn that there was someone special that Asher did like to drink tea with, and that person, for whatever reason, is not with him today.

So, we know that he likes to collect and not use what he’s collected. He thinks that some of the things he likes need to be taken care of in a precise, “delicate”, if you will, manner. We also know one of the reasons he likes traveling. It rambled on, yes, and I am sure the writing in there is not all that great, but it revealed a few things about the character that the reader did not know before.

I’m ahead with my word count and behind on my plot, and while this annoys me, I say go with it. Just keep writing, because you never know where it’s going to take you. Write the rambling paragraphs and run on sentences, because you don’t know how much they’ll reveal, and how much you’ll learn about your characters or the world you put them in.

That entire post, excluding these sentences down here, was 827 words. How hard can this be, right?

Once upon a time, in a far off land called college, I was a good student. Truth be told, I've been slacking off this semester. I have a much lighter course load this time around, and very little if any written homework. I've still been trying to do all my reading, bust honestly, there are too many fun things I'd rather be doing. Nanowrimo isn't helping much. At least I've got a good buffer so it's not critical that I write 1,667 words every day, and I can slow down a bit.

I'm trying a new idea (well, sort of new, as I actually stole it from my friend) was to make sure that I saw what I needed to do. Believe it or not, there's life outside of Nanowrimo. Gasp. So, here's my method of keeping track of everything: make sure I see it by putting it not only on my desk top, but also on my wordcount calender.

Henry couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of his mouth, and couldn’t stop himself from running out the door. Just a minute later Asher came chasing after him, a hot tray of chocolate cookies in both hands.

            Henry leaned his back against the building, holding his head in both hands, sweat running down his face, heart going at a thousand beats per minute. He looked up at Asher, hot and shameful tears in his eyes.

            Asher extended the tray towards him. “Cookie?"

As amusing/terrible that was for me to write, what really made me laugh was Asher attempting to explain how magic worked in this magical world.

 

“There are different types of magic, as well. Much of the strongest consists of chemical magic. You have already seen some of mine: fire. There is also earth, water –though wind is one of the rarest, and most dangerous—“

            “And heart?” Henry asked with a touch of a smirk.

            Asher shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “Where have you been learning your magic from?”

            Henry snickered. “Cartoon shows.”

I'm not saying that these a great pieces of writing, but I've had a lot of fun with them. Isn't that what November is really about, anyway?
I'm having a lot of fun with my novel, and right now I don't have to worry about whether it's good or bad or why Ma-Ti got the suckiest power of all. As The Town Pants once said, "It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be loud." So, your writing doesn't need to be good, it just has to be there. But more importantly than that, it should be there, and you should be having fun with it.

Even if it means you make your character jump out of windows because he sees a fireplace.

Dear Henry,

I love you dearly, but you are not the main character. Ari is the main character. Stop stealing her spot light. And it also wouldn't hurt if you were a little more subtle about your pyrophobia.

Love,
GlaiveBreaker
 

Dear Asher,

I get it. Henry gets it. Not many other people care. You're gay. That's fine, so please stop pretending to be straight. Saying, "Have I mentioned that I am heterosexual today?" in some form or the other is not helping your cause. And stop talking about Madeleine like that, because I know that you really don't think of her that way. You don't even like her all that much.

Love,
GlaiveBreaker

 

Dear Ari,

Where are you? Why are you always freaking out and not letting me move along with the plot? Hit your suspense of disbelief button already, and you suspence of fear of insanity button for a little bit, so we can all get on with it. If you don't, your main character status may be revoked and I already have a canidate in mind to take your place.

Get on with it,
GlaiveBreaker
 

Final word count for day 1: 10,010

I wish I were joking. I guess I can slow down now.

And get some damn sleep.

“It’s sprained,” the nurse at the health center told him later that day, making him bend his wrist, showing her how far he could twist it. “Just don’t do any heavy lifting with it, take some ibuprofen if it hurts you,” she instructed, handed him a free condom, and sent him on his way.

      Great, Henry thought sourly. She told me absolutely nothing that I didn’t already know. He reminded himself that the nurses at the health center were there because they couldn’t get jobs at real hospitals. Never forget that! He told himself.

And, another line that I think encompasses the spirit of NaNoWriMo:

"This was no time to be logical."

So yeah, today's icon would be indictative of what might happen in my novel this year. That's my MC, I think, riding away on Arceus.

I've already started to doubt my plot, and it's not even November. As you might imagine, this sucks. It's a amalgamation of different ideas that I've had for the past couple years thrown together to form a story, and I'm getting nervous. I'm trying to do duel worlds differently from what I've seen, and it's also another huge case of "Our Monsters are different". Will it work? Will it be any good? For a minute this morning I considred scrapping the whole thing and strarting over, but I can't, not when November's so close. I've been trying to reassure myself with a few encouraging phrases.

My novel does not induce vomit!
My novel does not suck!
My novel is better than Twilight!
My novel has a soul!

My novel is AWESOME!!!!!

If I say it enough times, it'll be true.

I dare you to have a mage or fire-conjuror who uses his (or her) powers to instantly bake cookie dough into cookies.

Bonus points if the cookie dough wasn't his (and its owner is probably either gratified or annoyed).

Double bonus points if he uses a really insane amount of power (such as summoning a fire elemental) to do it.

Triple bonus points if this is the only use of his power during the story.

Quadruple bonus points if this is how the baker's guild makes ALL its goods.

 

Include an orange-throwing pixie in your story
BP if she makes an appearance more than 5 times
DBP if she only appears when characters are getting all lovey
TBP if said characters throw oranges back
Cookies if the characters stop their snuggles and whatever and eat the oranges.

Include the line: "My favorite time when I died . . ."

The pyromaniac and the baker could be the same person, and the orange throwing fairy just sounds like fun. We'll see how they all fit in.

A little character development for the main character, Ari, as well. And the working title for the book thus far:

i maed a novl3 with un1corns in it!!

...It's not going to last, trust me.