I know, I've missed a few days. I've been distracted with family sicknesses, with Thanksgiving holidays, with family and daily duties. And yes, I'll admit, yesterday I was distracted by the stupid, pointless, mindless, strategiclessness "Pirates" game on Facebook. I finally got conned into skipping out on MySpace and started a Facebook account, and then got hooked on the stupid game. I think I've cured myself of the more than 10 minutes at a time though. When after an hour or two I'd gotten "far" ... to level 24, I discovered other folks on levels in the hundreds and thousands. And I have no desire to waste that much time on nothing, with no point, with no skill involved, with no point, and did I mention no point? I may still hop on for 5 minutes or 10 now and again when I need some mindless time, but I think I'm through with the addiction phase.
Plus, while on "Thanksgiving vacation" down in the state without sales tax, I actually had some "adventure dreams" to draw inspiration from. And perhaps the time doing nothing let my brain rest enough to get back to the task of creative writing. I don't know. But I have to admit, I read over some of my last stuff and had forgotten enough that it was interesting. And now I'm kicking myself for not doing some flash cards as I go so I remember plot lines and twists and character name and stuff like that. But I think in December I'll make myself go back through and write all that down, then try to assemble more of an order to all my random scenes so that I can fill in the blanks for a full novel. (Note: Not all are THAT random ... some are on quite a theme, but others from earlier and during points of "I'm stumped" are a bit more random, though I think they are finding there ways in through some interesting "side roads" to the storyline ... I just don't write straight storylines apparently.)
Anyhow, I'm still WAY behind. Don't know if I'll actually hit the 50,000 ... but definitely have a good start on a novel. I'm up to almost 25,000 with less than a week to go. If I can "hit it" every night, I know I can finish" ... but even if not, I've made great headway, and will just have to have a competition for myself. Because sometimes, life happens. Life, and sometimes death, happen. And you have to deal with life even when you want to channel the creative gods. And sometimes, November is not the month the muse hits.
November has been a great muse for me. I've found my lost muse, and I have better discipline ... and hopefully I can keep with it. Whether it means 50,000 by Nov. 30? I don't know. I'm not going to kill myself for it, but I will keep working. This is my first attempt at NaNoWriMo, and it won't be my last. And for me, winning doesn't necessarily mean winning NaNoWriMo, I've discovered. (Don't tell my teenage uber-competitive self this ... she just might bitch-slap the 30-something version ... kidding. Or am I?)
Today's excerpt thus far:
“Liz!” shouted Viki. “Did you see this? Isn’t this your labmate?”
Liz ambled as casually as she could over to the sofa where her roommate Viki was sitting watching the evening news. Eric was on the television, getting hauled off by the cops. Liz’s face flushed as she heard the reporter talk about how he was being held as a suspect in Colin’s shooting. According to the news reporter he’d been the last one before Colin to enter the lab, and therefore was a suspect. Liz didn’t know what to think. Right or wrong, that could have, should have, been her.
“Oh my,” said Liz. What else was she supposed to say.
“Man,” said Viki, “what is up down there at your lab? Have you even been able to get back to work?”
“Nope. Not yet.”
“Apparently your labmate entered the lab about 20 minutes before Colin, so he’s a pretty strong suspect,” Viki said, filling Liz in on the details she’d missed while doing the dishes.
“Seriously?!?!” This reaction was true. She’d entered maybe 10-15 minutes beforehand, unbeknownst her roomie and apparently most other folks, and just after Eric apparently. She subconsciously rubbed her shin, where a dark bruise had recently formed. And then she remembered … she’d tripped over Eric’s stool. Not something he normally left out. Had he been there, too? Had he just ran into the lab and back out in a hurry, kind of like she had meant to be in, or had he ducked out of sight when she came in … but why? Had he watched her?
Liz’ previous blush was quickly drained from her face and her face and fingers were soon icicles due to the new realization that there might be a witness to her witnessing, and a witness to her return of “the file.” Why would Eric hide when she came in? Any answer made her cringe with the fact that then he had seen her switch the files. Of course, he very likely could have just been in and out. That had been her plan, after all. But Liz was sick with worry. Sick with what-ifs. Sick with who might know what. Sick with not only who already knew where she’d been when, but with who quite possibly might know why she’d been where when. That, she had been secure in thinking was still her secret alone. But perhaps no more. And that was a scary thought.
