January Novel Writing Month '02
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Saturday, December 22

It was a dark and stormy month...

"You look at Rolf and he looks like he's stoned but he's not. He's just glassed over from looking at the computer."

Posted at 7:59 PM

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Friday, December 21

Rabbit Blog had two novel insights low in her Wednesday post. First, regarding altered egos:

This is why I'm drawn to fiction: I'd like to be much, much meaner, via some deeply disturbed character who's sort of just a little bit like me but who I can pretend is someone else entirely. Someone far less attractive and charming, of course, to throw everyone off track.

And then, regarding courage and honesty:

I heard Sandra Tsing Loh on the radio once. It was upsetting, because she was so funny and smooth, and I felt like a nervous 2nd grader in a school play by comparison. But you know, that's why people like Sandra Tsing Loh and PJ Harvey and Bjork and Merce Cunningham and David Foster Wallace exist: to make the rest of us recognize that we'll never do anything of worth without being completely honest and backing that honesty up with total dedication and belief. They've all got the courage of their conviction. No indecision, second-guessing, and wishy washy wimpitude! Courageous revelation! And if some second-guessing is there, then it's IN THERE! ART! Art art art! It's pretentious, it's obnoxious, it's unselfconscious, it's unlikable and untrendy and unpretty and uncool and cheesy and awful and revealing and humbling and horrifying and shaming, and if it's not, it's not art!

Arf! Arf arf!

I've heard there are people who read Rabbit Blog and feel like a nervous 2nd grader in a school play by comparison. Then again, these people feel the same way when they read the directions on the cake mix, so I'm not sure we should make too much of this.

Posted at 9:30 AM

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Thursday, December 20

Tom asks a good question:

You realize that's over 1500 words a day for 31 days straight?

And the answer is yes. But I also point out that Tom's question is itself 12 words long. Let's see what happens if we make Tom a character:

"You realize that's over 1500 words a day for 31 days straight?" Tom asked.

Now let's do some minor editing and modify this "Tom" character:

"Do you realize that's more than 1,500 words a day for 31 days in a row?" a stunned Tom asked.

Tom needs to be doing something:

"Do you realize that's more than 1,500 words a day for 31 days in a row?" a stunned Tom asked, quietly strumming "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" on his guitar.

Where is Tom?

"Do you realize that's more than 1,500 words a day for 31 days in a row?" a stunned Tom asked, quietly strumming "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" on his guitar, his feet perched on the top rail of the deck outside his Lake Tahoe ski lodge.

What time of the day is it, Tom?

"Do you realize that's more than 1,500 words a day for 31 days in a row?" a stunned Tom asked, quietly strumming "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" on his guitar, his feet perched on the top rail of the deck outside his Lake Tahoe ski lodge, his eyes squinting as the morning sun reflected off one of the many icicles dangling from the roof.

Something needs to happen next:

"Do you realize that's more than 1,500 words a day for 31 days in a row?" a stunned Tom asked, quietly strumming "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" on his guitar, his feet perched on the top rail of the deck outside his Lake Tahoe ski lodge, his eyes squinting as the morning sun reflected off one of the many icicles dangling from the roof. Suddenly, one of the icicles fell. He heard a shriek from below. Tom ended the conversation and snapped into action.

Let's add some local color:

"Dude, do you realize that's, like, more than 1,500 words a day for 31 days in a row?" a stunned Tom asked, quietly strumming "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" on his guitar, his feet perched on the top rail of the deck outside his Lake Tahoe ski lodge, his eyes squinting as the morning sun reflected off one of the many icicles dangling from the roof. Suddenly, one of the icicles fell. He heard a shriek from below. Tom ended the conversation and snapped into action.

And voila! Starting from a simple question and without too much extra thought, we have 92 words. I just have to do this about 18 times a day. I can do it. Heck, I could do it at least once in the shower, so I'd just have to take 18 showers a day. Easy. My problem, therefore, is not length but girth. Can I write that much and have it be anything but one-dimensional?

And the answer to that, "Tom," is a definite "probably not."

Posted at 3:27 PM

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Monday, December 17

I am not a writer.

However, I've seen plenty of movies and television shows about writers, so I am no stranger to the life. There's more to it than unlocking truths, grinding axes and cracking the whip of language. And you'd be surprised: The fun doesn't stop at alienation, pretension or liver damage. A serious writer also gets license to look goofy, to adopt an appearance that tells the world: "Hey, world, I'm a writer! Where's my discount?" I'm thinking of berets. Of unkept clothes that aren't "wrinkled" but "writerly." And beards? The more ridiculous the better.

Here, for instance, are four ridiculous beards. Click to discover the owner.

I do not -- and will not -- own a beret. I already have the wrinkled look pat. (Ironing died Sept. 11, didn't you hear?) But a beard I can do. The only question: Will growing a beard for the duration of JaNoWriMo make me look more or less ridiculous? (Here's me with. Here's me without.)

More ridiculous
Less ridiculous

Posted at 9:46 AM

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