No Pressure

It’s day 23 of National Novel Writing Month and, despite a flash stint this afternoon where I somehow managed to write two thousand words in about an hour, I’m still a rather woeful 5,165 words behind target. For some reason, however, I’m not feeling all that worried. I’ve got the best part of tomorrow and all of Monday to put the time in and, as I know from past experience, I work best under pressure so I’m confident I’ll manage to ‘win’ at NaNo once again and make it to 50,000 words before midnight on the 30th. The most encouraging thing is that despite struggling to find the time to get my word count up, I haven’t had a single moment of writer’s block since I started, which must surely be a good sign…?

In other news (yes, this is a boring update post – apologies to anyone who had grander designs in mind for today’s blog), the marathon training is coming on nicely. If – or should that be when – I complete tomorrow’s 105 minute run (gulp) I will have managed to tick off every session on this week’s plan, including a rather savage speed session on the treadmill this morning which I’m glad to have behind me. It’s still a long way off (this is only week three of a twenty week training plan) but my theory is if I put the ground work in now it’ll be a hell of a lot easier come the big day. Though something tells me when it comes to running a marathon there’s nothing ‘easy’ about it…

NaNoWriMo: Day One

It’s 1.14pm on day one of NaNoWriMo and as yet I haven’t written a single word of my new novel. Not perhaps the MOST promising start, but I’m not panicking just yet. Why? Because I HAVE A PLAN – and it goes a little something like this:

  1. Work like a demon (right through lunch) until 4pm
  2. Leave office and install self in caffeine-vending establishment (Café Nero and Costa both being less than 100ft from office)
  3. Write as if life depends on it until 6.55pm
  4. Walk five minutes to restaurant to meet friends
  5. Celebrate successful first day of NaNo with a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio

Of course the fact that a) I have about three days’ worth of work to cram into the next three hours and b) I’m still not at all sure how the first chapter is going to start are both somewhat concerning threats to the ultimate achievement of this plan. But as historically my best work has always been done under pressure I choose to regard these challenges as opportunities for greatness rather than barriers to success. The first day of NaNo is not a time to fall apart. It is a time to indulge in superhuman amounts of self-confidence.

I am a writing super hero. I WILL succeed.

press-start-fa915ffe8a6fb32bb3eabf7f771620b4

Gearing up for NaNo No.5….

Today I have been planning out the story for my NaNo* novel, the chapter notes for which you can see in today’s photo. I wish I could say I’m feeling totally prepared this time around, but the truth is there will once again be a significant element of winging it. Still, on the positive side a plot and characters are at last beginning to emerge, like (slightly reluctant) woodlice, from the (somewhat rotten) woodwork of my brain. And, more importantly still, I’m starting to feel that old glimmer of enthusiasm to get started, and the accompanying excitement to see what comes out once the month is underway.

This will be my fifth NaNo novel, the main difference being that this time around I’m determined to edit my novel until I’m 100% happy to submit it to agents, rather than consigning it to a dusty folder in My Documents, never to be touched again. I did submit three chapters of my first NaNo novel (some years ago now) to agents and received one encouraging rejection letter in return, but nonetheless the responses were all rejections. The reason for that, on looking back, was because I hadn’t made any real effort to edit it – as in, none at all. And if I couldn’t be bothered to spend time crafting it into something amazing, how could I expect people to want to spend time reading it? So this time will be different, and if nothing else comes of it I will teach myself the art and discipline of editing for when I do finally write the masterpiece that will catapult me into the JK Rowling stratosphere. Well, a girl can dream…

*National Novel Writing Month – Budding novelists should check it out!

Sisters

With National Novel Writing Month less than three weeks away, planning for this year’s NaNo novel is finally underway. After playing around with different protagonists I think I’ve settled on Scarlett. Here’s a sneak preview of the story:

“What?” Scarlett lowered the phone from her ear and stared at it without comprehension. Several moments later she raised it back to her cheek. “Are you sure?” Her blood was pumping like a river in her ears now, torrents of emotion surged through her like thick tar, drowning her in sticky disbelief. She knew the words being spoken on the other end of the telephone line were in her native tongue and yet they may as well have been in Martian, for all she was processing of them. A memory popped into her head then, so clear it was like watching a television screen. She and Ruby were children, sitting on the front lawn of the White House that sloped down towards the sea. It was a warm summer’s day with an unusually gentle breeze and yet their mother had dressed them in warm tights and corduroy pinafore dresses. Scarlett remembered the scratchiness of the tights, her longing to remove them and feel the coolness of the grass against her legs, to stretch out and close her eyes; to dream. Her sister, however, seemed not to care, so engrossed was she in the flora and fauna, not to mention the iced bun clasped between her chubby fingers. They were so different even then, but for all their differences they loved each other. They were sisters after all. “Hello?” The woman’s voice at the end of the crackly phone line sounded impatient now. She had delivered her news and that, it seemed, was where her sympathy ended. “I’m sorry,” said Scarlett, her voice hoarse. “It’s just a lot to take in.” “Of course,” said the woman, her tone flat. “Now I go, okay?” Scarlett hung up the call and let the phone slip from her grasp. It landed on the floor with a thud that matched the thudding of her heart. Ruby, her beautiful, inquisitive, infuriating little sister, was dead.