Saturday, November 28, 2009

NaNoWriMo Day 28: Pie Saturday

The apple is long gone, but the pumpkin, sweet potato, and pecan are still around for anyone who cares to begin or end a meal (or three) with pie.

Hannah and Dana went to the campfire for a little while, but their hearts were not in it. They sat alone on the quieter side of the ring and talked, their voices low.

“I hate to see Greg so upset,” said Dana. “It was an accident, though.”

“He’s really protective of animals,” Hannah explained. “At home he won’t even kill a spider; he scoops it up in a cup and puts it outside. He’s always been that way.”

“That’s sweet,” said Dana. “The world would be a better place if more people were as nice as he is. Hey! That reminds me, what are we going to do about Regina and her henchmen?”

“I haven’t really had much time to think about it today,” said Hannah. She looked around and found all three of them watching her and Dana intently from across the flames. Was it her imagination or did they look a little less arrogant than before? She wondered if her threats that morning had actually intimidated them, or if there was some other reason for this unexpected change.


Word count: 16002

Friday, November 27, 2009

NaNoWriMo Day 27: Black Friday

Not really. It's been a perfectly pleasant day with lots of family and food... except for the "ozones" Scrabble incident. That was a little dark and ugly. On the flip side, we learned that "bottlery" is a word (despite what my spell check is telling me right now). It means not a place where bottles are filled, but rather one where they are stored. Who knew?

“Isn’t everything better with ice cream?” Dana asked as she caught up with the group. “What’s happening?”...

...I just want to go back to my cabin,” he told her. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”


Word count: 15824

Thursday, November 26, 2009

NaNoWriMo Day 26: Thanksgiving

I'm thankful for the 30% progress I have made. Now about those other 35,000 words...

Greg had fared much better, but he commiserated with Hannah on the way to wash up before dinner. “Who’s fault is this, Mom or Dad?” asked Hannah...


...“A la mode!” they said together. It was a silly routine that they did with their dad, but Hannah felt better knowing that when she was out in the woods, Greg would be there, too.

Word count: 15031

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

NaNoWriMo Day 25: Soup Night

My family has a tradition of gathering for a meal of soup and salad the night before Thanksgiving. It's always a sweet and simple way to usher in a bountiful holiday season together, and tonight was no exception.

Hannah discovered that shooting a bow and arrow was a lot harder than it looked; there was nothing natural to her about trying to hold the arrow in place while drawing back the string, aiming, and then firing. She missed the target almost every time. Joe came over to her and suggested a different bow. She had chosen a long bow because it looked like the ones she had seen in movies like Robin Hood. Joe had given her a bow that was shaped like a bracket in a math problem; he called it a recurve and explained that it might be better for a beginner, but not even the new bow could help Hannah, and she spent a frustrating afternoon.

Word count: 14387

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

NaNoWriMo Day 24: Yeah I Should

I saw my former student Red today at school. I gave him the big thumbs up on his plan to try NaNoWriMo next year. That kind of thing really warms an English teacher's heart on a raw morning in November.

He smiled and said, "You know, you should really write a lot this weekend."

"You must be Hannah and Greg," Joe waved them over. He smiled but did not make eye contact. “Archery is a lot of fun,” he told the group, “but obviously there are some pretty strict safety rules. Even with these beginner bows and arrows, someone can get seriously injured unless everyone is careful.” ...

...“The most important thing is to never, never, never shoot at a person or any other living thing. Don’t even aim within 50 yards of them. In the event that someone or something breaches the safety zone, you will hear three short blasts of the whistle. At that time, shooting must stop immediately. We WILL practice this—it is as much or more important than hitting the target.”

Word count 14270

Monday, November 23, 2009

NaNoWriMo Day 23: Research

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

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:

(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