It's that time again
Yep. It is almost that time. As a matter of fact, it is only about 1 hour, 2 minutes and 43 seconds away from THAT. TIME.
That time, you ask? Yes, "That Time", I reply.
It is almost November 1st. That means NaNoWriMo, which means NoSeeStephIe for a month. Get it? No ....see.....steph......yeah, yeah, I know. Lame. But you get the drift.
November means it is time for me to get those creative juices flowing again. Time to put the pen to the paper, the fingers to the keyboard, the mind to the plot. This year, I have absolutely no idea what I will write about. I don't even have a story line in mind or an idea thought out. Hell, I don't even have a first sentence. I was thinking about writing a bunch of first sentences, throwing them into a hat, picking out one and forcing myself to go with it but the thought of that much randomness makes me itchy. Then I thought about opening a dictionary, blindly picking a word and making the book somehow revolve around that word. Again, the itchy. Out of desperation, I then toyed with the idea of continuing on with the book I started 2 years ago, but then the hives came and I realized that it was probably not a wise idea either.
So. What will I write about, you ask?
I. Have. No. Idea.
Tomorrow, I will create a Word document. I will title it "NaNoWriMo 2010", then I will save it. That is all I know for certain, and frankly that scares the snot out of me. I like to be in control of things. I like to have a plan. I like to have a sense of sureness, some security with the choices I make. I like to know that I know. You know? Alas, this year that is not happening. Instead, in about 15 minutes (give or take a few) I will turn out my light, lay my weary head down, hope to the Gods above (and below and around and within) that I can get some sleep, all with the hopes of waking up inspired.
And if that fails? I will sit down and write. And delete. And write some more. And I will continue these actions until there is something there I can finally go with, and then go with it I shall. For 30 days. Or 50,000 words. Or whatever comes first.
So wish me luck. Or send me first sentences. Or ply me with alcohol. I'm not picky, just desperate.
See you in a month!
That time, you ask? Yes, "That Time", I reply.
It is almost November 1st. That means NaNoWriMo, which means NoSeeStephIe for a month. Get it? No ....see.....steph......yeah, yeah, I know. Lame. But you get the drift.
November means it is time for me to get those creative juices flowing again. Time to put the pen to the paper, the fingers to the keyboard, the mind to the plot. This year, I have absolutely no idea what I will write about. I don't even have a story line in mind or an idea thought out. Hell, I don't even have a first sentence. I was thinking about writing a bunch of first sentences, throwing them into a hat, picking out one and forcing myself to go with it but the thought of that much randomness makes me itchy. Then I thought about opening a dictionary, blindly picking a word and making the book somehow revolve around that word. Again, the itchy. Out of desperation, I then toyed with the idea of continuing on with the book I started 2 years ago, but then the hives came and I realized that it was probably not a wise idea either.
So. What will I write about, you ask?
I. Have. No. Idea.
Tomorrow, I will create a Word document. I will title it "NaNoWriMo 2010", then I will save it. That is all I know for certain, and frankly that scares the snot out of me. I like to be in control of things. I like to have a plan. I like to have a sense of sureness, some security with the choices I make. I like to know that I know. You know? Alas, this year that is not happening. Instead, in about 15 minutes (give or take a few) I will turn out my light, lay my weary head down, hope to the Gods above (and below and around and within) that I can get some sleep, all with the hopes of waking up inspired.
And if that fails? I will sit down and write. And delete. And write some more. And I will continue these actions until there is something there I can finally go with, and then go with it I shall. For 30 days. Or 50,000 words. Or whatever comes first.
So wish me luck. Or send me first sentences. Or ply me with alcohol. I'm not picky, just desperate.
See you in a month!
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