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Showing posts from November, 2016

Fountain of Awesomeness

There is something very intimate about writing. I don't know how it is for other writers.  For me, though, the words have more power and a deeper intimacy based on how they are written, and sometimes about whom or for they are written.

The draft of the book I just finished for National Novel Writing Month, for example, while sprung forth from my soul, doesn't bear the same level of meaning or intimacy as if I were, to say, paint a love poem on the back of a lover.  Both come from the same place-my muse, my writer's brain, my fucked up head-whatever you want to call it. But both are very different in their delivery, and how they are born in to this world.                

I guess what I'm saying is, writing is as much of a physical experience for me as a mental one.  If Im typing, the keyboard has to feel right (the MacBook keyboards still have the best laptop feel for me).  I'm still finding my ideal typer, but so far the Hermes Rocket is my baby.

And then there…

Of Writing Groups and Drinking One's Own Fluids

In the good/bad column for days, I would mark today decidedly "good."
Work was just the right amount of busy so that I felt productive without feeling like my hair was on fire and I wasn't going ever get caught up.

The grand screw up that was the delivery of my fountain pen was made all better by the notification that said pen was waiting for me.

And today was one of the days of the month that one of the writing groups I'm in meets.

So, yeah. Good day. All the cards are put in to play.  I got to Panera at what I thought was an early time. Pretty much everyone was there.  I still ordered my food. Chicken-noodle soup in a bread bowl, which I then had to place in a real bowl because the bread bowl had sprung a leak. And I got a free drink. And a free birthday scone.  The scone, in no danger of leaching its contents out on to my plate, was set aside for later as I made short work of the soup and its vessel.

As I'm eating, I hear from the table behind me, "Well. …

Two Questions And A Gassy Lambchop

You might be sitting there asking yourself, “ won. You hit your word count goal for NaNoWriMo. Why the heck are you still writing?”

And that’s a good question.

Or you might be sitting there asking, “Why are you writing another flipping post about NaNo? Jeesh dude. Move on. We need some insight in to why sheep farts aren’t blowing holes in to the ozone layer.”

An equally good question.

The first will be a bit easier to address in this forum.  Yes. I finished my first draft. And yes, I hit my word count of fifty-thousand words. Both of these are true.  Thing is...I finished my first draft before I hit my 50,000 word count. So, while I could have easily said that I hit my goal and purpose for participating in National Novel Writing Month, it would only be half of the answer.  Just as hitting the fifty thousand word count is only part of the answer. be deemed a ‘winner’ by the magical word counting applet on the NaNo site, you have to hit and submit 50,000 words.


Participation Trophies Don't Get You Published

Fuck You Nano: Day 25
I want to give up. And not really ‘give up’ per se. What I mean is, two days ago I hit the point in my draft where I was actually able to type “The End”
It was a first for me. I really tried to drag it out, I’m not going to lie. I tried to make it so my final word was RIGHT AT 50,000.
That didn’t happen. Fuck you, NaNo for that.  My story was done telling itself at about 46,500 words. days left in NaNo (five now) and the novel I’m working on is done. I mean...the first draft is done. I know there are at least four or five more edits and revisions before it’s actually readable by someone who doesn’t share my family tree.
But it’s done.
The story has a beginning, a middle, and an end.  It’s a milestone, to be sure. This is a rush, though. I mean...I wrote a fucking book. OK, so I wrote the first draft of a futhermucking book!!
BUT...for the second year, I didn’t hit 50,000 words for NaNo. I am. I’m writing. Poems. Songs. Blog posts. Story ideas for …

A Grateful Heart

This week has been a real up and down of a shit show, and it's only Thursday at that. Tomorrow is one of the busiest days of the year for my team. A team that supports a nationwide retail chain of computer and electronics stores.  The second busiest day, if you're wondering, is a toss up between Summerween and Jayne Day.

But today, my friends, is a day when people all around our great country post what they're thankful for on Social Media for a day before going back to posting about cats and dicks, er politics,  and recipes.

This day of giving thanks also happens to coincide with the anniversary of the day I fell in to this world, in this particular meat sack.

And I have to be honest, I wasn't really sure how the day would play out.

You see, I finished my first draft last night. My first draft of my first real big-boy book.  Finished. As in, typed "The End."

And then by daughter dropped off a six of one of my favorite beers (New Belgium's Snapshot) as an …

Four-thousand short, twenty-three thousand ahead

I typed two words for the first time on any novel I've ever started (and there have been a few).

Want to see them?  Here they are:


Yeah. I was a bit bummed because I didn't get to go up north today and do some writing with my NCOW family.  Sitting at home on the love seat trying desperately not to stream episodes of Arrow wasn't going to cut it for a Birthday Eve activity either, so I got my shit packed up and headed to Panera.

Not the Panera on Polaris where my C-bus writers' group meets, but the one that Tim hated for a write-in.

To be honest, this week it wasn't bad at all. I like it better than the Polaris one because it's bigger. And it's closer. So it might become my go-to spot when it's just me.

Side note--another benefit of writing groups is someone to watch your stuff while you go pee O_o. I worked on a few chapters tonight and came to that spot just before the ending chapter that I wrote a week or so ago and I was like...…

Of NaNoWriMo and Writing Groups

I’m not really sure if I hit a wall this weekend or not.
All I know is that I smashed my goal to hit the 40,000 work mark. And by ‘smash’ I mean that choked out about 400 words past that 40K wall.

But I’m not going to bore you with just  talk about National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo as the hip call it) (or NaNo as the hipper but probably just lazy call it).  If you’re wondering, I fall in to the second parenthetical bubble. Because words.

There were some really cool things that came from the writing event that I attended this weekend. All over the country (nay, world?) there were planned NaNo events coinciding with the theme of “Night of Writing Dangerously.”

Now at this point, you’re probably saying But Todd, you said you weren’t going to bore us with NaNoWriMo talk. 

And no. That’s not quite what I said.  What I said was just.  Meaning that there would be talk about NaNo, which might bore you AND talk about other things you might find equally non-interesting.

But since this…

Keep Writing

There are times on this blog I say that I'm really writing this for me (and inviting you to come along for the ride). This might be one of those times.

I just hit 23,924 words in NaNo this year. I will count this blog post toward my daily word count today, so that total might be higher. But rather than get in to some weird edit know what, nevermind.

Twenty-three thousand, nine-hundred, and twenty-four.

That's almost a thousand more than I really hit last year.

Last year I started a book called The Treachery of Rainbows.  This year I am continuing to write that book.

This is, historically where I get stuck. So, this is a note of encouragement to Future Todd.

It's going to be late. You're going to be tired. You're going to look at the word average and think that it's OK to skip a day.  Keep writing.  Even if it's ten minutes to midnight and you don't think you can form a thought, keep writing.  You did Box of Doom. And so far, you h…

Who By Fire

Growing up, I knew I was going to be a writer. At least on some level I knew. My heroes were not sports figures. OK. There was also the slight chance I was going to be an astronaut or a radio DJ.
My heroes and inspirations, though, were masters of the written word. Isaac Asimov (The Foundation Series; I, Robot), Douglas Adams, Tolkien, Stephen King (IT, The Stand, pretty much everything else), Dean Koontz, Arthur C. Clarke.  Really, it’s quite a list and that’s not really the point of this post.
Then in the early 90’s I saw a movie that changed my life, or at least my outlook on life. It was a Christian Slater movie called Pump Up The Volume about a highschool kid who was way cooler than I ever was who had a pirate radio station.
I was aware of the Concrete Blonde song Everybody Knows.  I believe it was used in the trailers for the movie, but I had known and loved the song already.  What I didn’t know was that it was a cover.
I didn’t know it was a cover until the movie.  And in that sam…

Rogue NaNo

I know that it's probably not a good indicator that I'm already doing a renegade post to get my word count in on Day 1 of NaNoWriMo, but I couldn't bear the thought of not actually making some sort of progress.

I picked up the novel that I had started during last year's NaNo and was excited to work it through until the end. I had figured out a way to continue to track work counts and had even worked out where I wanted the story to go, thanks to a couple of NCOW Plot-ins last month.

I had decided to set time aside at lunch today to write.

That was a bad idea.

Fine for blogs, not fine for a piece that I'm picking back up after 23,000 words looking to add another 50,000 words to it before Dec. 1st. we are.  A renegade blog post.

And 290 words on top of my current piece.

The prospects of writing tonight push me well in to the late night range. And I suppose I'm OK with that.

I need to find my stride.

And the bitch of it is, we're doing mandatory OT t…