When I sat down to write tonight, I realized I don't know anything about archery. Now I know a little bit. I'm sure I'll wow you, Dear Reader, with that knowledge tomorrow.
The lunch service went very successfully, and Hannah was almost sorry to untie her apron and head for the archery range. She liked the rhythm and concrete results of the kitchen—seeing, smelling, and tasting the product of your hard work right away, and feeling pride when others appreciated it, too. She thought she might never again take a simple burger and fries for granted.
She ran into Greg on her way to archery. They both smiled to find out that he was in the same session, and that made her wonder, too. Just a couple of days ago, she would have paid money to get rid of him for a week or ten days, but now it seemed like he was all she had, and the surprising thing of it was that he was enough. She threw her arm around him affectionately as they hiked.
Counselor Joe was just getting ready to begin when they entered the clearing. Eight targets were set up against bales of hay.
Word Count: 14051
Monday, November 23, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 22: That's Just Eerie
One of the cool things about participating in NaNoWriMo is the pep talks that you receive via e-mail every now and then. The one I got yesterday was from Kristin Cashore, author of the kids' novels Graceling and Fire.
She writes:
Here's what it starts to be like for me somewhere in the midsection of a novel:
Wow. How validating to read my very feelings written by someone else. (Oh, and she also said that writing 50,000 words requires skills that can be learned, how else? By writing. And that she's never written 50,000 words in less than 8 months.)
Grab a clean apron from the hooks behind you and come on in.”
Hannah enjoyed the morning. She liked to cook, and learning some shortcuts for chopping had been fun. She had never seen a giant number 10 can, much less one filled with more ketchup than her family would eat in a year, and the industrial opener they used to crank the lid off was pretty amazing, too. Jean had calmly overseen all the work, working at her cutting board on the stainless steel table, and directing the six kids in the kitchen...
...Hannah wasn’t sure how to respond. She sensed that something of value was being lost, but she couldn’t say what it was. Miss Jean looked up at the clock on the wall. “Time to get back in the kitchen,” she announced.
Word count: 13884
She writes:
Here's what it starts to be like for me somewhere in the midsection of a novel:
(1) I've written the beginning, but I'm pretty sure it's a pile of crap.
(2) The end, when I even dare to contemplate it, feels as far away as Uranus.
(3) The prose I'm writing right now, here in the middle, sounds like a stiff little busybody who's sat down too hard on a nettle.
(4) I've discovered that my plot, even if it's an engaging plot, has sections that are not engaging to write, and I'm bogged down in those doldrums sections, when all I want is to move on to the exciting parts that are just ahead but I can't, not until I've written the parts that will get me there. Boring!
(5) The house is strewn with post-it notes on which are written about a gazillion important reminders of things I must somehow remember to find a way to weave into the novel at some point, although, where, I can't imagine. Some of the post-it notes are written hastily in a code I have since forgotten. ("He is temperamentally sweet, but dangerous, like Jake." That would be very helpful, if I had the slightest idea to whom "he" refers, or if I knew anyone named Jake.)
(6) Worst of all, whenever I take a step back and try to examine objectively this unstructured mess that is half created and half still living in my head and heart and hope (and on a gazillion post-it notes)... I get this horrible, sinking feeling that my novel isn't actually about anything.Wow. How validating to read my very feelings written by someone else. (Oh, and she also said that writing 50,000 words requires skills that can be learned, how else? By writing. And that she's never written 50,000 words in less than 8 months.)
Grab a clean apron from the hooks behind you and come on in.”
Hannah enjoyed the morning. She liked to cook, and learning some shortcuts for chopping had been fun. She had never seen a giant number 10 can, much less one filled with more ketchup than her family would eat in a year, and the industrial opener they used to crank the lid off was pretty amazing, too. Jean had calmly overseen all the work, working at her cutting board on the stainless steel table, and directing the six kids in the kitchen...
...Hannah wasn’t sure how to respond. She sensed that something of value was being lost, but she couldn’t say what it was. Miss Jean looked up at the clock on the wall. “Time to get back in the kitchen,” she announced.
Word count: 13884
Saturday, November 21, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 21: A Good Saturday or Better Than Nothing
As promised, I got a great night's sleep last night. I spent my morning reading a very compelling book called, School Wounds by Kirsten Olson (more about this another time), then I walked down to get my hair cut this afternoon, and went to see the movie Precious this evening, all worthwhile activities. Here's what I wrote in between:
“The first rule of kitchen duty is don’t get hurt,” she told them in a pronounced drawl. “The kitchen can be a dangerous place, full of things that are hot and sharp. It is also a place where you prepare and serve the food that others will eat, so the second rule is to be careful and clean.”
It all made sense to Hannah. These were very close to her parents’ rules when she helped in the kitchen at home.
“Our lunch today will be hamburgers, grilled cheese, and French fries. Of course we’ll need some griddlers, and fryers, and servers, but some of you will need to chop vegetables for the salad bar and prep the chicken and biscuits for dinner.”
Word Count: 13480
“The first rule of kitchen duty is don’t get hurt,” she told them in a pronounced drawl. “The kitchen can be a dangerous place, full of things that are hot and sharp. It is also a place where you prepare and serve the food that others will eat, so the second rule is to be careful and clean.”
It all made sense to Hannah. These were very close to her parents’ rules when she helped in the kitchen at home.
“Our lunch today will be hamburgers, grilled cheese, and French fries. Of course we’ll need some griddlers, and fryers, and servers, but some of you will need to chop vegetables for the salad bar and prep the chicken and biscuits for dinner.”
Word Count: 13480
Friday, November 20, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 20: 102 is Plenty
I had some free time tonight, and a friend asked if I was going to spend it writing. "Nope," I told her, "I'm going to go to bed early so I can write a lot tomorrow."
Hannah enjoyed a leisurely breakfast that had only been improved by the sight of Leslie and Cheryl screeching and jumping at every pop of the bacon grease on the huge griddle where they working when she made her way through the food line. That duo was dejectedly eating a late breakfast in the back corner of the dining hall, when, at nine am sharp, Hannah and the rest of the kitchen crew presented themselves to Miss Jean, the camp cook.
Jean was a solid woman of about her mother’s age, and Hannah liked her immediately, despite her gruff, matter of fact manner.
Word count: 13358
Hannah enjoyed a leisurely breakfast that had only been improved by the sight of Leslie and Cheryl screeching and jumping at every pop of the bacon grease on the huge griddle where they working when she made her way through the food line. That duo was dejectedly eating a late breakfast in the back corner of the dining hall, when, at nine am sharp, Hannah and the rest of the kitchen crew presented themselves to Miss Jean, the camp cook.
Jean was a solid woman of about her mother’s age, and Hannah liked her immediately, despite her gruff, matter of fact manner.
Word count: 13358
Thursday, November 19, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 19: Fingers Crossed
Today was a busy day-- teaching, parent meetings, a basketball game, and my writing group. It was my night to cook, too. Our meeting was as fun and congenial as ever, there was some good writing all around, and it was close to eleven by the time we got to my piece, which was the latest installment of the novel. I had about 800 words that I'd slammed out between basketball and hurrying home to start dinner. I could have written more if I'd had more time, too. That hasn't happened too often, but I'm hoping that there's a little momentum building on day 19.
She held her breath and lay as still as she could. Her mind raced and she fought the urge to jump screaming from the bed. The shadowy figure pushed out from between the bags under her bed and waddled across the cabin. In the moonlight it looked like a giant rat, bristly with a hairless tail, and it was moving toward the bunk where Dana slept. Hannah could see her over there lying on her stomach, one arm hanging over the side of her bed, oblivious to the menacing creature that was scraping toward her...
...“What are we going to do then?” Kelly asked.
Word count: 13256
She held her breath and lay as still as she could. Her mind raced and she fought the urge to jump screaming from the bed. The shadowy figure pushed out from between the bags under her bed and waddled across the cabin. In the moonlight it looked like a giant rat, bristly with a hairless tail, and it was moving toward the bunk where Dana slept. Hannah could see her over there lying on her stomach, one arm hanging over the side of her bed, oblivious to the menacing creature that was scraping toward her...
...“What are we going to do then?” Kelly asked.
Word count: 13256
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 18: Oops
For a brief shining moment last night, I was done with my novel. I accidentally typed an extra '1' on my NaNoWriMo page, and didn't notice it until my counters declared me a 100% finished NaNoWriMo Winner! It felt pretty good until I fixed it. I didn't realize until then how much I really would like to be a "winner".
Claire left, and the four girls prepared for bed. “You could have told her we were in the bathroom, or something” Leslie said with exasperation.
“But you weren’t,” said Lori. “That would have been against the rules to lie.”...
...She lifted her head ever so slightly from the pillow and looked toward her feet. She froze when she saw a dark shape trundle heavily across her blanket toward the wall. Before she could do anything, it slithered into the narrow crack and disappeared under her bed.
Word Count: 12620
Claire left, and the four girls prepared for bed. “You could have told her we were in the bathroom, or something” Leslie said with exasperation.
“But you weren’t,” said Lori. “That would have been against the rules to lie.”...
...She lifted her head ever so slightly from the pillow and looked toward her feet. She froze when she saw a dark shape trundle heavily across her blanket toward the wall. Before she could do anything, it slithered into the narrow crack and disappeared under her bed.
Word Count: 12620
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 17: The Inmates Are Running the Asylum
They always say that once you get started writing fiction, your characters will take over. It seems almost mystical when it happens, but it is welcome. Today, my characters actually told me that I need to spend more time with them-- 300 words is just lame. Sorry guys. I'm doing my best.
The fire was just a pile of smoldering embers when Hannah and Dana left to turn in for the night. It had been a fun evening. They listened to Hunter and Graham make fools of themselves singing Born to Run with Hank, and they had participated in a marshmallow roasting contest— Hannah won in the perfectly-golden-brown category, and Rhett won in the too-charred-to-eat-but-I’ll-go-for-it-anyway category...
...“Seven!” sputtered Cheryl. “I thought duty started at 9!”
“Not for you,” Claire told them. “You’ll be the breakfast crew.”
Word Count: 12085
The fire was just a pile of smoldering embers when Hannah and Dana left to turn in for the night. It had been a fun evening. They listened to Hunter and Graham make fools of themselves singing Born to Run with Hank, and they had participated in a marshmallow roasting contest— Hannah won in the perfectly-golden-brown category, and Rhett won in the too-charred-to-eat-but-I’ll-go-for-it-anyway category...
...“Seven!” sputtered Cheryl. “I thought duty started at 9!”
“Not for you,” Claire told them. “You’ll be the breakfast crew.”
Word Count: 12085
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