I could only pass by Madam Vara so many times before I had to say hello. And then one thing lead to another and soon I was forking over my five dollars, paying a woman with the longest hair and the smallest hands I had ever seen to tell me my life in pictures.

I actually liked Madame Vara a lot and I think she liked me, too. After that first introduction, whenever I was around on the weekend, I’d go into the store to say hello. At first Madame Vara honored the mystique that comes with her job and her conversation was always professional. Over time, though, as we got to know each other better, she loosened up a little. I learned she was in her early thirties, lived on Vashon Island with a bunch of other hippies, and that she had what more conservative people would call a boyfriend but that she called a special “soul friend.”

One day I decided to have another reading. At one point, Madame Vara held up a card that had appeared upside down in the layout. “This is the passion card,” she said, waving it a little, “and you’re not living it.”

Given that at the time I was filing paperwork for a nonprofit I had zero personal interest in, this was not exactly a revelation. I told Madame Vara that I felt about passion the same way I felt about art: I know what I like, but I don’t actually know how to do any of it.

Madame Vara smiled and shrugged. “Every time I start a reading,” she said in her squeaky little voice, “I think to myself ‘I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.’ None at all. I just deal the cards and trust the universe.”

These days, every time I sit down to write my story, I think to myself that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. None at all. Then I put one word in front of the other and trust the universe.

I sent Madame Vara a card every Christmas for years until the last one came back “not at this address.” I hope she and her soul friend are very happy, wherever they are.

Technorati Tags: writing, NaNoWriMo

This morning I woke up at 3:00 am. Half an hour later, I was still awake. So I got up, went downstairs, turned on the coffee maker, and wrote for about four hours.

And I am still 2,324 words behind schedule.¹

I’ve been more successful this year than last in keeping Elphaba, my inner editor, locked in her tower.  But one of those flying monkeys must have a key because every now and then she sneaks up on me.  “Poppies! Poppies will make her sleeeeeep!” she whispers, and half an hour later I wake up to find she has been fucking around in my story ten pages back.

Who would have thought a little witch like her could destroy my beautiful word count? What a world, what a world.

Technorati Tags: NaNoWriMo, writing

1. Da math:  50K / 30 = 1,667.  1667 x 11 = 18,337.  18,337 - 16,013 =  2,324.

I went into a bookstore yesterday, perused the books on writing, saw a couple interesting ones… and didn’t want to buy them.

“Want” is the critical word here. I often come out of bookstores with empty hands and a heart full of sorrow for the books I have forced myself to leave behind.

“Never fear!” I tell them, “I will come back and lavish money upon you and then stash you under the bed so that certain a killjoy I live with won’t give me that look.”

This year in particular, since attending Ed’s Fill Dirt & Writing School, I’ve bought or lusted after so many writing books, I’ve seriously considered arranging an intervention.

But yesterday, after writing my NaNo novel for a couple hours in the Starbucks, I took a walk around the adjoining Barnes & Noble. Many books looked very interesting, including some books on writing. And I did not feel any urge whatsoever to buy these interesting books.  I walked away from the shelves feeling almost relieved.

Then I became alarmed.  I felt my forehead. I examined my tongue.  I checked my pulse.

But I’m not sick, poisoned, or dead. I believe I’ve just reached the point where I would rather be writing than reading about writing.  By jove, I think she’s got it!

Technorati Tags: writing, books, reading

The bad not-as-good news: I’ve lost my lead, ending the day about 500 words behind the 1,667 words-per-day schedule. But I’m not worried because this weekend I am channeling Chuck Norris. My word count shall blot out the sun.

Work has been ridiculously stressful lately. You’d think that the timing of NaNo would make things worse, it being another source of pressure (albeit self-imposed) and all…but it’s actually been nice to have something totally different to focus on.

It is physically impossible, against the laws of nature, to be utterly absorbed by two things at once.  One cannot write and worry at the same time. Unless one’s character is worrying, but then it’s about whether you’ll be able to thwart the bad guy’s evil plan for world domination. This is much more exciting worry than whether the legal team will get back to you in time to have the technical documentation done by the deadline that they themselves imposed because you really don’t want to work 24 hours straight on the last day and still have it be half-assed by the time it goes out because that just causes more fires to put out and god knows we wouldn’t want to prevent them when we can run like chickens with our heads cut off for the next month, now, would we?

I really need to get back to my novel now.

Technorati Tags: NaNoWriMo, writing

I’m just sayin’.

The city of Seattle partied late into election night. Read about it, view the photos in the Stranger’s blog.

And of course, Righteous Ribs will want to keep an eye on our new First Lady.

And in local news, my little corner of suburbia might even get decent bus service into town. Woot!

Aaaaaand… an Ode to Joy from Beaker on this very joyous occasion.

OK, enough of this bullshit! Get writing, you maggots!

Technorati Tags: NaNoWriMo, Barack Obama, Michelle Obama

I love living vicariously through fiction.¹

I’m actually ahead of schedule, word count-wise. November should start on a weekend every year.

Those of you who are interested can check up on me at my NaNo page.

1. Another sweet icon by Michaela.

8:35 a.m., November 1st, 2008

750 words down, 49,250 to go…

I don’t hate my main character yet. A good omen!

Spot-on icon by Michaela.