Point of View

I'm reading Diana Gabaldon's An Echo in the Bone right now, and I must say she offers me vast amounts of inspiration. I am completely aware that the print version of the book is only one of multiple versions she would have created during the process of getting it right, and that most authors must rewrite, rewrite, and then rewrite it again before the book is worthy of print. Still, her words seem so flawless, her sentences so perfectly executed, that mine in comparison sounds juvenile. It seems all "he said, she said," and the voice (one important thing that ALL "write your own novel" sources say you must have, and have well) seems all mixed up.
I'm thinking of experimenting with the point of view. Over the summer, I considered the prospect of first person for Nola...but abandoned it because I was unsure how to write from the first perspective viewpoint of a six- or eight-year-old...Do I "dumb it down," have her thoughts purposely more simplistic, or do I just make her think like an innocent, happy, uncynical version of everyone else? Hmmm...I like what Diano Gabaldon does. The main character, Claire, is first person. Everyone around her, from her husband to her kids, are third. The voice changes with a section break. I like it, because you can feel closer to Claire, understand her thoughts, and while you understand the others as well, there's also a bit of distance there. It seems more realistic than what I'm doing now. I feel as if I just delve into people's thoughts at will, a sort of "anything goes" philosophy. But who can you connect with if you get pieces of everyone, but everything of no one?
I think tomorrow night I might give it a shot, see if it adds to or detracts from the story. It's hard enough just coming up with story ideas...then there's all of this!

30-Day Blogfest

I've done it! I've officially blogged for 30 days straight. I missed last night...got wrapped up in a Christmas movie and just needed a break. I'm actually quite mad that I forgot to blog because I was hoping to keep the record going...but the important thing is that I've committed to 30 days of regular writing at a consistent (ish) time. That was the goal. I basically have two careers as it is, one teaching at a high school, the other teaching music at the conservatory. Writing is not a hobby for me...it's a career aspiration, so I need to treat it like a career. It's hard fitting in a regular writing time after all the time I devote for the first two careers...and even when I have time, the first two tucker me out. So, this blog was my attempt to at least write something consistently each day, and I accomplished the task!
Now, onto month number two.
I think two, maybe three people read this blog consistently...sometimes it feels like I'm writing a whole bunch of nothing and firing it off into the black void of cyberspace, but the goal is not to get readers, but to prove to myself I can actually bring some sort of...professionalism (?) to my writing.
The weather is still cool, nearing -20 by night. It's sparkly outside as the powdery snow is blown off the rooftops and drifts through the air. At night, as you walk under streetlamps, it looks like fairy dust is floating all around you! I love that. I don't particularly love having to turn the barbecue on in it...or to have go and get food from the deep freeze, by first walking outside where it's naturally freezing and into the uninsulated garage where the deep freeze is kept. This is why modern houses have things called doors from the inside of the house to the garage!
Three days left til the weekend, and I'm counting the minutes. I'm looking forward to the moment of glory when I (hopefully successfully) finish my Messiah solo on Sunday. Won't be able to breathe that nice sigh of relief till after the final two concerts on Monday and Tuesday night, however. Again, I repeat: how did I get so busy?
Speaking of busy, I need to work on that novel - I just can't wait till that moment when I know I've finished it!

Novel Word Count: 55,000

Snowy Slush and Late Night Mush!

There is a winter wonderland of slush outside, and my desire to merrily sing Christmas tunes has been sated. There's just no rejoicing to be had when you're sloshing around in scummy looking wet snow! But it started out rather majestically...come January, when the deep freeze sets in and sticks the snow to every living and inanimate object, I'll probably wish for the changeable nature of slush! Till then, bring on the sunshine. And sleep...can't wait to curl up in my flannel sheets tonight because, (what else is new?) I'm pooped.
More success writing tonight. It appears I need a good 2-3 hour window to be really productive. By the time I finish searching for that word that's on the tip of my tongue but just won't come out, or research whether or not 18th century France had ice boxes, it takes 3 hours to get a good chunk of writing done. It frustrates me that I can't have that much time each night of the week! And, when I do, by 10:00 Bailey is staring at me to rub her, and let her out to pee and then put her to bed. Yes: I communicate with my dog. In fact, I know all the different tones of her barks like a mother does her babies cries! Right now she's guilt tripping me with the biggest sighs I've ever heard emitted from an animal. They can be roughly interpreted as: "I don't understand why daddy is in bed sleeping, and I'm not!"
I feel like I've made some really great progress on the story. My characters are developing on paper (they're already developed in my head), and they're actually getting places geographically and emotionally...the story is slowly unfolding! Nola's 6-year old self is firmly esconced in France, elements of her character being revealed through her actions (like galloping a pony through a field to her mother's chagrin)...it's a whole new story. To explain further, I started this whole idea on a completely different bent, at a later date than 1782. It was so EXCITING and I loved it...but it needed more background. Then, adding the background with flashbacks made it too choppy and felt the pace of the narrative was lost. So all those flashbacks and now an entirely new book on their own, a prequel in a sense to the original story, now book 1 in what will inevitably (because, as you can see, I'm wordy) become a multivolume saga!
Amazing how you start with one thing, and it ends up completely different in such surprisingly pleasing ways!
I just kick Bailey off the couch before she falls asleep again...when she gets to that stage I must physically drag her off while she gives me the evil eye (ha, should have put me to bed sooner, mum!). She'll hang 3/4 off the couch before finally relenting to drop a foot to the floor.
I'm hoping to pull some passages soon (all those flashbacks) from my first manuscript into this new one, the first attempt sitting at about 30,000 words right now, and that will hopefully boost up my word count drastically. I'll never make it to 50,000 by the 30th in order to (try to) win this NaNoWriMo competition, but I'll keep trying! No matter what, progress is progress, and if I continue this pace past the 30th, I'm guaranteed to finish the book sooner (and get published?!!!!!!) than if I had never bothered to enter the contest at all. Amazing what a little competition will do.

Novel Word Count: (drum roll....) 11,098!

Location, Location, Location!

I just spent a wackload of time preparing my office as a comfortable writing space, hung pictures on the wall, tidied up the shelves... I finally emptied the plethora of boxes in my closet full of junk I'll never use but somehow accumulated: quarter-full jars of dried up acrylic paint inherited from my crafty grandmother, bits of paper I'll never scrap with but can't get rid of because they "remind me of when"...I put all this work into creating a comfortable, organized, calming and inspiring work space, and here I am sitting on the couch in my living room, in the middle of everything, and happy as a clam. I read once that Stephenie Meyer, author of the Twilight Series, sets herself right up in the middle of the action, and is perfectly content despite having her three boys running around her. Others, like John Wilson, a young adult fiction writer from Lantzville (whom I met with for advice at the beginning of my journey to becoming a writer), locks himself away in the upper floor of his guest cottage/garage, blinds shut, noise-free, and barely emerges till it's done. "Welcome back" is his wife's customary greeting after these month-long withdrawals from all but the written word. John's author friend in Ontario has no troubles waking at 5am and driving to some Torontonian suburb for a school visit. As his early departure saves him from the worst of the morning rush-hour traffic, he arrives early and plunks himself at the local Tim Horton's until it's time to migrate towards his eager young readers at the nearby school. I've tried Starbucks, personally, but unplugged always seem to take the seats with the outlets, which doesn't seem fair to those of us attached at the hip to a device requiring an electrical current.

So, location. There really is no perfect location for every person. It's as personal a choice as your preference for certain brand of chocolate bar or cut of underwear. The best place to write? Where you feel comfortable, where you can sit and go "ah" and just focus on the task at hand. For me? It's anywhere my loved ones are. Right now, my goofy lap-dog Doberman is sitting next to me on our extra-deep love seat, sharing my knit blanket, sawing logs as I click away on my keyboard. It's even better when my husband joins us, as he is now, reading his book or playing video games (as long as he remembers to wear his headphones). The best location for me is where I'm at ease.

Oh, by the way:

Today's word count: 6,615

(a dismal day...NaNoWriMo deficit now 9,000 words! But, progress nevertheless...)