Posts Tagged ‘Google=’

2013-Winner-Facebook-Cover

I usually don’t toot my own horn, but this month has been an amazing journey for me.  As you know, I started a novel with the intention of forming 50,000 words in 30 days.  That meant writing 1,666 words, at least, for 30 days.  Every day.  No breaks.  1,666 words.

It’s a lot harder than you would think.  And over the course of this last month, I’ve learned a lot about myself personally and as a writer.  See, I can honestly say that now because I feel it.  In the end, on November 27, 2013, I clocked in at 53,441 words.  So, I am a writer.  I realized that I had won, but I still was. or rather am, in awe of it.  I’ve still got the ending to finish, also.  Which means… I am not done.

Yes, That’s right.  I. Am. Not. Done.

But here is the real interesting part.  At the beginning of the month, I was naively proud and cocky that I would succeed.

It’s not that hard to write 1,666 words in a day.  I’ve read blogs where professional writers are clocking in at 3,000 even 5,000 words in a day.  I can puke up a mere 1,666.  I laughed heartily…. HaHA!

Yeah…

Well….

It’s a pretty humbling experience to sit in front of a screen and stare at that blank page.  It’s like standing up to give a speech.  You shake.  You try to picture it in it’s underwear.

You get up and get a drink of water and come back.  Stare some more.

You poise your fingers over the key board the way it was taught in typing class (back when they had typing class).  You take a deep breath.  You close your eyes.  You picture the scene in your head.

And you type.

You keep typing, until typing is the only thing you can do.  Your mind breaks open like a watermelon hitting the pavement from a ten foot drop.  It bursts into a million tiny pieces of imagination.  and you type.  Furiously, until you feel as if your hands won’t ever move again.

Finally in exhaustion, you stop.  Your fingers are cramped and crooked.  You are so very proud of yourself.  You say, “I have written a novel!”

Then you look at the word count.  You stare at it in disbelief.

1,642

Your parched throat constricts.  If you weren’t so dehydrated, you would feel tears drip down from your lashes onto your pallid cheeks.  Your chapped lips form each of the numbers, cracking and bleeding as they do.  One thousand, six hundred forty-two words.

You hang your head, your greasy hair falling around your face.  You look like a girl from those Asian horror movies.  You feel even creepier.  Your mind can’t seem to get around the fact that you haven’t written enough.

“Maybe I should quit.  Just give up.  There is no way I can do this for 30 days.”  You shake your head slowly, defeated.

But your mind has already been opened.  You realize that, while it seems that you’ve just poured your soul out into a bottomless pit.  There is more.   There is more where that came from.  The story has just begun.  You aren’t done.  Your mind has already started thinking and processing what comes next and then after that.

You raise your head and look at that number again.  1,642.    When you had started this day, it was zero.  Now it was much more than that.   So, it wasn’t the exact amount needed.  So what?

Did word count really matter?

To quote an author I admire, Scott Sigler, “It’s all shite anyway.”  Just put it down and worry about the rest later.

So I squared my shoulders, shook the hair out of my eyes, took a long drink of water, and I started again.  Every day.

Halfway through the month, I realized I could type more and faster.  So I prepared for the holiday, ‘cause we all know they ain’t gonna be no typing when your belly is full o’ turkey!

And here I am.  53,441 and still going.  I’m okay with that.  I’m more humble.  But also, much more determined.  If this were easy, there would be a million of us doing it.

Oh wait, have you looked on Amazon lately?  Let me rephrase that.  If it were easy to write well, there would be million of us doing it.

I aim to write and I aim to write well.  Or at least tell the stories that are in my head well.  But that’s for another post.

Now that my first goal has been reached, saying, “I am a writer.”  My next goal will be to say, “I am a published writer.”

By the way, I’ve started a couple of short stories, too.  One is a horror story called “Emil’s Boat.”  I hope to have it published in an anthology I am submitting to.  But, again, that’s for another post.

Hope you join me.  See ya soon, right here.

M.

Advertisements

Of course a horse is a horse, unless it’s a horse named “Ed”, the talking horse.  I remember that show in re-runs.  I’m old, but not THAT old.  The show was about a talking horse who helped is buddy and various and sundry others.  That’s not really why I picked today’s post.  But then, you know me, I’m thinking one thing and typing another.  If you don’t know that, well, you will soon.  My fingers have a tendency to type what they want, not what my mind tells them.  Thank goodness for backspace buttons.

Back to a horse.  More specifically, writing about a horse.  In my story, the main character comes across a horse in a field.  She’s very tame, yet, not.  She has a mind of her own.  Now as a writer, you are told, “Write what you know.”  If you don’t know about horses, then, how do you write about them?  I’m lucky, I grew up on a ranch.  There were lots of horses, cows, dogs, pigs, chickens, and some things I’m afraid to name.  My uncle thought of himself as a sort of animal husbandry expert, even though he had never passed the eighth grade.  He was a very smart man, don’t get me wrong.  He just wasn’t very intelligent by today’s standards or yesterday’s standards.  He never let that get him down or keep him from trying.

Image

But I digress.  I have experience in horses. Even though I have experience, there is a niggling idea in my head regarding this special pony.  She is probably not very beautiful in a sense that she doesn’t really look sleek and healthy.  She is very healthy, yet she might not necessarily look like it.  She’s a diamond in the rough, just like our main character.  She has a strength, intelligence and tenacity that isn’t necessarily seen at first glance.

So how does one write to describe this type of horse?  Well, my first thought was to look on the internet (isn’t that everyone’s first thought?).  I could find pictures of horses and describe something from there.  That’s how I came upon the above picture.  Nah, my special horse isn’t like that.  That’s too flashy.

Then there was another one…..

Image

Well, number one, it’s a male.  That’s okay, I can describe this photo and change the gender.  But it’s a little too cocky for our special horse.  She needs to be confident, but in an understated way.  And number too, again, too flashy.  She needs to be a diamond in the rough sort of horse.

Then I found these…

116916977_e65ac6e5a6

big_draft_horses_stock_by_horse_power-d5jajp9

Now we are getting somewhere.  I  think we can make this work, don’t you? My uncle would be proud.  I have effectively “blended” breeds and created a horse of my own.  What shall we call it?  Breed Marlie?

“Hi, yes, that’s my horse.  The breed?  why it’s a Marlie, of course.  Very rare.  Only one in existence that I know of,” I smile demurely, “Thank you, yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she?  In an understated, intelligent, diamond in the rough sort of way.”

That’s what I love about writing.  I can create whatever I want and no one can tell me it’s wrong.  This is my world, if you don’t like it, go build your own.  But I would never turn you away, my friend.  You are special, in an intelligent, understated, diamond in the rough sort of way.  Come on in, I’ve got a place for you right here.

M.

P.S.  If you liked this post, use the buttons below to say so. I encourage you to follow me on this blog, Facebook, and Google+.  I always enjoy making new friends.  Take care, M.

P.P.S. All images are the property of their respective owners, I do not lay any claim of ownership to them.