It is NaNoWriMo, but so what? Let’s be clear. I am not worried about my writing itself.

was.  I felt as though it was important, what I had to say.

I do not care about being ‘the genius author’.

I think that writing does not necessarily ‘endure’ – you’re lucky if it survives the dust-off that people do after someone dies.

A close relative has said to me that my writing will not be thrown away after I die.

I have a clause in my will that I want it keeping.

I have hopes that might happen.

Fame and glory is a secondary thing.

If I can get my writing published, I will.

I don’t fancy self-publishing.

I might change my mind about that because if my writing was published, it would have to be on my own terms.

No editor for me altering my every other word.

NaNoWriMo. Oh, I’ve got to write like crazy. It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that writing keeps me alive.

I take painkillers every day of my life for this arthritis.  Not opioids.  I’ve managed to avoid those – I was afraid of becoming addicted.

But the humour has gone at the moment.

Oh, blart – it was there just the other day – I was laughing like crazy – you, readers, couldn’t see me.  And you probably wouldn’t have had a clue – so serious did my posts sound – that, in fact, I’d hit my funny bone – somehow – I’d given some answers, or something, and then taken them away again – without realising, of course –

Ah!  The writing sometimes gets into the hands of – this is it!  I never realised.

Listen!  I was going to say ‘listen up’ – I think that phrase comes from a TV show I used to watch at one time – I know – a conglomerate of – this is what happens when you’re doing NaNo-and-what-else –

No time to spit!

Got to do that – can’t explain that now – too busy –

NaNoWriMo. Of course, you can take all this too seriously, can’t you?

I have found that, especially with the internet, you can’t know fully, by descriptions, information or anything else, what doing a thing is going to be like.

You have to get in there and do it – sort it out for yourself.

So much information that you get, even from participators, is so much repetition of the standard line of the site itself – the facility, let’s say.

I can’t explain this very well yet – you feel as though you might drop yourself in it, if you complain.  But drop yourself into what, precisely?

Validation – you would only want validation if you reached whatever it was you were aiming for, wouldn’t you?

Jargon – this was the word I was looking for.  So much is conducted through what turns out to be quite specific jargon.

NaNoWriMo. I am still able to make the word-count – it’s supposed to be between 1,600 and 1,700 (can’t keep figures in my head) a day in order to reach the 50,000 on November 30th.

I’ve been reaching more than that – at the last count (yesterday) it was 13,000-something – nearly 14,000.

It isn’t straight ‘this happened and then that happened, and then so-and-so, meanwhile . . .’

It’s writing what is behind my eyes – someone (more than one person) suggested writing down the movie that was playing at the back of your closed eyes.

I find that this works for me.

It might not exactly make sense with what else is going on – or it might – it opens other avenues, other possibilities – but, the character – as she, or he, moves about (it’s a simultaneous thing, character and plot), and I write down what this character is doing . . .

But then – I start to question what I have seen – yes, but . . .

And I write that down – all this goes in the word-count –

That may be what people do with their plots and so on that they make before they begin.

From what I can gather, some people make pristine plans.

I can’t start at a beginning like that.  I never could.  I did an art course once (I have done more courses than anything else), and it was required we did a plan of what we were going to produce – and put it in our sketch-books – and all that went towards our overall assessment.  As with the writing, I couldn’t do that, either . . .

I made the artwork – and then drew a plan, into my sketchbook, of how I had produced it.

And didn’t bother telling them I was doing the work that way round.

Anyway – my ‘plans’, ‘thoughts’, writing – all jumbled together – and in the word-count.

As I go on (I’m only a week into it), I am less and less comfortable about not going back to look at it.  (This is what they recommend.)

I did go back to some early notes I’d thrown in there (at the beginning of the typescript so I could find them again), and expanded on those – with ideas and notes of what I’d decided against.

But I’ve kept them all there.  I have learned not to throw anything at all out when I am composing – in the past, I have concluded essays, nearly done but missing that final element, almost entirely from what I had previously thrown out into the bin, believing that I wouldn’t need those . . .

I keep it all.  And it has all gone into the word-count.

I might not validate, though, through NaNo.  I’m still thinking about that.

NaNoWriMo. I have found that, if you are writing for therapeutic reasons, to write even just some of it helps.

It begins a process of recall and thought.

That might be your problem – you do not write it all, in the first place, because it isn’t all there, in your mind – but you know, or suspect, there is more to do with it than appears.  You might not remember it, and that, in itself, could indicate there is trauma attached to it.

Or, it might be that you do not want to give everything away that you do know – you might have some inkling that, if you did, it would harm you in one way or another to say that now.

If it comes down to NaNoWriMo or yourself, save yourself.

 

This is still a mish-mash, what I have said here, but this is the best I can do for now.

NaNoWriMo. Hmm. I’m not so well at the moment.

But I tend to improve things for myself through my – whoops!  Where is the rest of that blog post?

I’m trying to clear my desk.

I find that NaNoWriMo encroaches on my time too much.

There was a message from some local person asking people to introduce themselves in the forum which was – where?

She wasn’t very clear over that.

I haven’t time to go searching the site for where she meant.

I haven’t time to go to local events, either.  There will be one later on in the month that I may be able to visit for a short time, but maybe not for the whole session.

The ‘typescript’ – shall I call it that? – is as messy as everything else at the moment – the trouble with NaNo is that I haven’t had time for ordinary housework.

Oh – don’t sneer – it has to be done some time – I thought I would probably end this NaNo with – ‘and now the dust, three feet high . . .’

But that just isn’t funny.  I have no one else to do it for me.

And there are all the hoardings here that came from a relative who I was very fond of, but . . . this house hasn’t been mine for – how many years ago is it since she died?  Twenty-five or so.  I’m not kidding – a relative gained through marriage, so I haven’t had full say as to what to do with all her things – I used to call her ‘Smiler’ – she smiled and smiled.

But she was so bad at housework she even forbade her cleaning-woman to clean much.

I exaggerate not.

This is a jotting because – surprise, surprise – I’ve been posting every day for a long time – which I didn’t used to do.

I find that it helps.