One month later .dot.dot.dot.

I've been back home just over a month now, from the road trip down through California, across Arizona into New Mexico and up to Taos, then back home through Utah, Idaho, Oregon.

It feels much longer than a month. I worked as many extra hours as I could to make up some of the time (meaning money) that I didn't earn during those lovely two weeks away. I also had an event I was involved with which took time, and more time, and additional time. A lovely annual event I love; but it still required more attention than the original agreement, which was fine, it was important. And my partner had, apparently, a burst blood vessel in her eye, which turns out is actually a common occurrence and no big deal - and with arnica and compresses and extra thick eye drops healed itself quickly, faster than predicted and well ahead of her upcoming trip to Italy to teach art; but we didn't know what it was when it happened and it was a late night trip to urgent care, arriving about 20 minutes before they closed but, luckily, she was the only patient. And there was a minor car accident (not her fault, but we're still waiting for the insurance company's determination on that - the other driver blamed her) - an accident is pretty much always a pain in the butt but the car is repairable and drive-able.

I didn't realize until I was writing this: it has been only one month.

One month. One full month. Not bad and I am not complaining. But I remember on the last leg of the trip, driving home through the Columbia Gorge, I was thinking and then said - I don't want to lose the good things from this trip. I don't want to forget the slowing of time in a good way and the being able to relax and just be present some of the time. I don't want to forget that life exists in a realm where there is time and space and air to breath.

One month.

Have I forgotten already? Not quite. Not entirely. There has been a lot of good happening, as well. In the theater side of my life, there are two new places I am working with and am excited about. I am excited by many of the theatrical productions I get to work on and see this season - there are a lot of really strong plays and casts. It is a power filled season. I have a short fiction piece coming out in an anthology sometime soon; I will share the details as soon as the release date, title & cover are available. I have my November (NaNoWriMo) writing retreat planned [I didn't get the residency I applied for and it really is okay; the coast retreat is later that month will be spectacular in a place I love and it is half the distance away, so, more time for writing!].

I have not forgotten. But it was receding to the background. Until now.

I remember.

Time and space and air to breath. It is within me. It is around me. I will remember to take time, too, even when obligations require more time in the moment. In my overall life, there is time, space, air, breath.

Inspiration and Rejuvenation

We traveled through eight states in thirteen days, we looked at art and met up with family and friends. We had six days in a row where we could wake up on our own schedule, no alarms. We took in the sky. So much sky and light and, for a while, time. What seemed like so much time when we arrived at the second part of our trip, Taos NM, became so little time left and so much to do. It all worked out and isn't that often the way with a trip? At the beginning the time stretches into a far away horizon, but at the end it seems not much was actually accomplished and so much might be missed.

Wait. Rewrite that narrative. One goal of this trip was rest, relax, rejuvenate.

Done?

Yes.

It was a success.

We also had some wonderful discussions, saw beautiful art. And the sky! Did I mention the sky? Here, let me show you.

Creative inspiration in the form of an expanse of blue, clouds, openness.

Reading Suggestions? Road Trips!

What are your favorite road trip books?

If I asked you - and I am asking you - what are the essential road trip books I should read? I'm not talking about books one should take with them while on a road trip (although those suggestions are also welcome).

For you, here, now, today - what makes up a good road trip book?


Who and what should I read and why?

The Hardest Thing (for me) To Do

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The hardest thing for me to do is to do nothing.

I want to take that back and say that sometimes it is hard for me to do nothing. But the reality is that Nothing is the hardest thing.

I recently went on vacation. The first three days were mostly driving and filling up the gas tank, getting food and coffee, then sleeping. Get up, wash our bodies, repeat. We arrived at our destination on the third day with daylight left and time to celebrate a birthday (not mine). We did. It was great. Then a couple of days off together.

Then.

Her workshop started on the evening of my fifth day off. The participants and the two instructors had a welcome dinner; I didn't go. The next day her workshop started so I drove her to the studio and then went back to where we were staying. With my coffee and no plans.

Truly, I had no plans. We had shopped. We had a little food and coffee and tea and. Laundry? I could do that. I had an event to post to Facebook (yes, a work event - which was fine). I could. Do nothing? Read? Play Angry Birds With Friends. Read. Nap.

Do nothing.

I opted to take myself to brunch after doing nothing for an hour or two.

Checked Facebook.

Read some more of my print book. Read more of my ebook.

Do nothing?

It was hard for me to Do Nothing. I did some Nothing. And a few things: read thought birds read cooked laundry read stare-at-ceiling-fan try-to-relax read nap? read birds ahha-fix-browser-no?-shit!-workaround FB-event email-re-needtoknowsituation nothing try-to-relax. Relax-dammit. Ah nothing.

And so it went.

Do nothing? Yes. I did some nothing.

After a few days I tried to write. I went to a funky cool very local cyber-café-retreat place and tried to write. Nothing came. But rather than be frustrated I worked on feedback for a friend's writing. That was good. Way better than being frustrated about my own writing. And it was fun.

Rinse. Repeat.

Nothing. Yes, some. And it was good. It did eventually lead to a bit of an anxiety attack and I wasn't going to admit it but there it is. But even that has led to good because it was and is being an opportunity to work through what I am calling "anxiety reassignment" : finding other ways to deal with anxiety than by keeping busy.

It was also a reminder that, although I may not need to Write Every Day as some writers say I should, I do have to write more often and, sometimes (often), after a period of no writing, I can't really expect to just sit down and have it flow.

So.

Do nothing. Do writing. Do breathing. Do relaxation. Do work. Do writing. Do nothing.

Then today I read this in Austin Kleon's weekly newsletter and it's perfect. Yes. This. Me.



From Austin Kleon -

Just don't lose the magic

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In the Blink of an Eye

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In life, especially in these time, "they" say, we are exposed to so much information. So many things and people and places and events and all we can do is grasp as they fly by, then intentionally or accidentally grab the things which interest us or which catch our eye. It is impossible, I believe, to "get" everything.

Sometimes on a road trip I do a similar process. There is so much that flies by from the car, so much to look at and if we stopped to explore everything we would never get "there." Maybe someday we will take a road trip which is just that and there will be no there there.

But there was a there, a destination, a place we had to be and a time. So, sometimes, yes while driving, due to the ease of digital photographs, I snap pictures while I drive. Don't panic. I don't look at the pictures I'm taking. See, I remember using rolls of film in a camera and counting the frames, and knowing that sometimes you could squeeze in an extra picture or two. But it required two hands, point, (focus, sometimes), click, advance the film. And then you had to develop the film. Some people still do this and I love that. But developing the film cost money and there was a limit and so each shot counted - most of the time. But with my phone all I have to do is press the home page icon which is the bottom left corner of the screen so I don't even have to look and then I hold it up to the open window and click click click - my phone has all alerts off so I don't even get that - it's just a bunch of tapping the screen, a bunch of times. Then, when we get to the next break (usually a rest stop, or lunch, or gas) I go back to the photos and weed them out, keep the ones I really like.

Like this one. A few years ago I took one of these side view mirror photos while driving. It was a sharp contrast of what was behind us and beside/in front of us. I thought it was cool. So I've started taking more of these click-it no-focus in front and behind mirror shots when driving through interesting places (or when stopped at interesting places and something catches my eye).

This was while driving near Canyonlands in Utah. The view from the road is spectacular. One of these days we'll build in time to actually go into the park. Maybe.

Because - a photo

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A moment in time from the trip to Taos. I was returning from a little trek outside of town and a sign caught my attention. I turned around and went back to check out the gallery, which was closed, but the owner let me in, anyway. Put off her trip to the post office for a few minutes to show me around and we talked. She is a writer, too. She has this gallery which is open about three days a week, sometimes four. And she lives there; rents part of it out. It's a very old home and Georgia O'Keefe stayed there back in the day. I saw the room. When I was leaving, turning around in the small parking area, I saw this gate between the parking area and the river which runs through part of town.

I took a picture.

Now I'm sharing the picture.

Just because.

It was a good trip.

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Re-establishing a Practice

Beginning the Underground Tour in Seattle

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This week we took an overnight trip to Seattle. We packed in several activities and even got a good night's sleep. And we had a great time. A couple of days away, no work, just fun and exploration, and silliness.

I also took the opportunity to re-establish my daily writing practice. I've been thinking about it. In the not too distant past I've written here about different sides of the writing every day issue and I still stand by my earlier thoughts: not every writer must write every day. But I also know that writing every day can be a benefit for some of us.

I needed a break from writing every day. I needed a break from the expectation that I had to write every day. I needed a break from the pressure of performing and "doing it right' or "doing it wrong." And I freely admit that the expectation and the pressure was internal. I could point to external experts and successful authors and say, see, they said so - or they do it so it must be right. I also know that I was the only one who could make it happen. Or not.

So I took a break.

Good idea. Really. Take one thing off the "must do" list and keep it enjoyable.

I also noticed that my writing production, when I'm not in an ongoing workshop or class slows. I can point to work - and it's true. I can point to theater - which is one aspect of my work - and it is also very true.

And I can point to times when I have written every day and I've been working my normal amount of hours and I've been doing a play. It worked.

There is also something to writing begetting writing. I was just having this conversation with another interpreter. Yes, we were talking about theater, interpreting theater - and about writing. We are both authors and we are both interpreters.

Writing every day can be like the joint fluid which keeps your knees and shoulders and hips and all of that in your body more mobile and moving easier. Writing every day can be the grease on the wheel which, when mobile, keeps it lubricated and the mechanisms working.

Or writing every day can be a signal to the Muse - or whatever you call your inspiration - that you are willing to show up. Then you have to listen, as the other interpreter-author pointed out. And she's right.

So I decided a couple or so weeks ago that I wanted to try writing every day. Not like the Morning Pages, though that was a very useful project many years ago. But something where I set a realistic goal to write every day. I didn't act on that decision. Until this week. Until we were in Seattle and we went to Elliott Bay Books and I found myself again standing in front of some blank journals. Knowing that I had several at home - but not like this one - and I bought the one that stood out to me.

Then I wrote. The next morning after my shower and while one of the other of the three of us was in the shower, I wrote. I decided on three pages a day, not because of Morning Pages though that is her magic number. But I decided on three pages because I know it is a little past my "done!" point and it will push me just a little.

I also decided - obviously since I purchased a notebook to write in - to do this writing by hand. This writing is the grease and the movement. I write well on the computer, efficient, fast, things work. But this writing is more from the body and that is what I need to communicate with and from more. Also so I don't feel the same pressure to produce that I sometimes do when I'm on the computer. Or feel like I should be editing the novel in progress.

This is writing from the gut.

And I am.

Trying to re-establish a daily writing practice. And to be gentle with myself and have self-compassion on the days when it may not happen; which I hope are few.
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Patience. Pleasure. Presence.

I have a lot of patience. Except when I don't. Right now I'm in that in between place of hurry and wait, savor the now moment while planning for the next step and the one after that and trust the process. Be. Here. Now.

Being present. That is one of my save-that-thought experiences from the Taos trip. Even when I have to look forward.

Tomorrow is the first return to the weekly Tuesday writing sessions - which were delayed a week. And that's okay. Tomorrow we are meeting.

In gratitude to the trip, to my writing friend and our return to the weekly writing meetups, here is a picture from the road trip to New Mexico.

Patience. Pleasure. Presence.

Writing Practice

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I still have two weekly writing appointments in my schedule. It feels great.

I have been vacillating between "a writer should write every day" and "a writer doesn't have to write every day." Well, if I'm being honest, I also throw in a couple of other gems and time and priorities and money and and and.

Where is the "truth" and is there one approach for all writers? No, of course not. Are there some things which are a good idea if one wants to be a writer? Yes, of course.

Are there rules? Yes. Can the rules be broken? Yes. Should the rules be broken? Yes! Absolutely. But wouldn't it be a good idea to follow some of the rules? Probably.

Internal dialogue put on the screen-page. I'm sure there are writers who say they don't have these internal struggles; some of them will be telling the truth and some will be lying. That's okay. My bet is that most writers go through these thoughts - at varying degrees with varying answers.


I've been spending some time thinking about writing. Writing as creating a product and then writing as a practice.

It started with an excerpt from an article about interpreting. The quote I pulled from the article is:

"It takes more than having two hands to be a good pianist.
It takes more than knowing two languages to be a good translator or interpreter."

Those Incredible Interpreters

Interpreting is one of the most difficult linguistic skills

by Francois Grosjean, Ph.D.

I used to play the piano. And the violin. I also taught myself cello and viola and guitar. It took practice. Being on the swim team took practice. And the dance team, way back when, when I did those things. More recently on the dragonboat team; we practiced, a lot. We practiced not just paddling and tilling, but strengthening and stretching and walking and various parts of paddling and tilling and capturing the flag. When I participated in a half marathon, that was a lot of practice.

So why do I feel that every time I sit down to write I have to "produce" something? That statement is only a slight exaggeration, because sometimes, like when I'm in a workshop or an online class, I get to do quick writes and free writes and that's okay. But often, when I sit down to write, I feel like it has to be something big or important or meaningful.

What about practice?

Don't writers need practice, too?

I think they, do!

And funny thing, when I met with my Tuesday writing partner this week, she'd been having similar thoughts. She had posted something earlier in the week on Facebook about just this topic, which I'd missed because I haven't spent much time in there recently. She posted about something I'm very excited about but will wait to say more until, well, later. I almost didn't go to our meetup this week, since I had an appointment beforehand which made me late. I'm glad I kept the date in so many ways and this is one of them; we talked about writing practice. Like athletes and musicians and dancers have practice.

A second benefit of the Tuesday is that I successfully edited a piece for the writing workshop this weekend. This is another thing I sometimes hate to admit - that, sometimes, I do better with my writing when I have a target with a deadline. This was one of those times. I had a chapter scene which was around 1650 words. We are supposed to take an excerpt for the workshop this weekend which is a maximum of 600 words. Oh no! But I did it. I cut out the build up, a little backstory, some extraneous details to the point of the piece and I got it down to 586 words. Whew. I wanted something which was cohesive on its own, even though there are missing pieces; I feel I did that. And it was a great exercise in getting to the heart of the scene.

Tomorrow I head back up to Port Townsend for another Lidia Yuknavitch workshop at The Writers' Workshoppe. I'm looking forward to getting feedback on this piece, doing more writing, going deeper in this process. The weather looks good : meaning no freezing wetness on the roads up and back. A weekend away and centered on writing.
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Writing Sample from the LIdia Yuknavitch Workshop

This weekend I'm attending a workshop with both Lidia Yuknavitch and Dorothy Allison. The participants are divided into two groups and each group spends one day with Lidia and one day with Dorothy. Tonight we had the pleasure of listening to both Lidia and Dorothy read from their future novels. I'm excited to read them both and I could have listened to more tonight.

It was an incredible day with Lidia, with the other writers. Writing. Listening to their words, those who wanted to share. Strength, power, honesty. Brave.

This isn't something I normally do - but here I go. This is a raw piece of writing from the workshop today. I want to put it out there, as is. This was the third of a series of three related prompts. No, you don't get to see the earlier two and I'm not even giving you the prompt, which wouldn't make sense if you don't get parts one and two.

Here it is, untitled, from Port Townsend.

Flutter in the wind and the waves of knowledge passing through. Directing, redirecting and I know from where the wind comes though I’m not sure where it’s going. The going isn’t my concern, no it’s that you know. That we know that life is a river and you don’t have to stay here all the time you can change your mind and swim upstream or rest on the bank on a rock in the sun or under the shade of a tree if the light is too bright. You don’t have to brave it all at once it all leads to the same place and we will all get there. We will. I promise. I’m soft and downy and I carry the rhythm of not only your life but all life because life needs. Life is. Life. Live it. Stroke me, carry me, hear me if you can but I beat. Under the darkness inside, darkness outside. But I know and you can know if you’re willing, that darkness is just a different way of seeing. It is not absence of sight not absent of light, but a strengthening of the other senses. Strengthening of that inner knowing which I know and I will hold for you. Knowing. Holding. My wings flap and I flutter and I hold you in my gentleness and all my strength. Cry or don’t. Just be. With me.

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Learning Curve and Moving Forward

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Last weekend didn't go as I thought it might. I had imagined having hours of leisure time, sleeping in, spending hours alone doing whatever my heart desired - well, almost.

I didn't think about having to drive my partner to the studio where her workshop was being held. Unloading the three suitcases, one box, and one box of supplies. I didn't think about - well, didn't know - that lunch wouldn't be provided so she'd have to go somewhere for lunch and there was nothing nearby and no stores by the time we fought through Friday afternoon traffic which made our drive 90 minutes longer than it should have been. I didn't realize the workshop started an hour later than I thought and ended an hour later than I thought. And then there was the picking her up when the workshop was done. Dinner with our very hospitable and wonderful hostess.

And it was all fine. And it wasn't as kick back as I thought it might be.

However, I did get a lot done in terms of my writing and I'm very happy about that. I aldo learned quite a bit about Scrivener, a software program I've owned for over a year and for which I had the beta Windows version for a while before that. But I've been intimidated by the program and my little dipping of my toes into the Scrivener pool were brief and I ran away.

But with the odd little pieces of time I had this weekend, I decided a really good thing for me to do would be to transfer the memoir into Scrivener. In chapters or sections.

See, the memoir has been in Word; 296 pages in one giant word document. Maneuvering through the pages, looking for sections, entering edits, saving -- it takes so much time and is so bulky. So I thought that setting up a new project in Scrivener, transferring the book into the program in pieces, would be double duty. Which is was.

The first two chapters (sections) took me about 90 minutes. Which was most of my gap between dropping my partner off, returning to the house where we were staying, setting up my laptop, and getting to work. And it was okay. I learned a lot in those 90 minutes and, even though it was a bit tedious and I had to start over and reconfigure and do some research to get it set up how I wanted it to be, it did work. Eventually. And now those 90 minutes see like nothing.

It was great to see my book set up in chapters, some with subsections, on "notecards" on the "corkboard" and see the layout, in order. There is a section I created of outtakes : pieces I've taken out, either chapters or sections, which I like and may put back in or may not. I have a resarch section. I was able to insert "notecard" where I need chapters. I made notes on the "notecards" of information I need to add or whatever, to the chapters.

I was delighted and surprised how much progress I was able to make with the book in this more visual format. There is much to do on the book. Much rewriting. Additions of all kinds and editing of what is there. But it feels much more doable, much more whole.

I also feel like I have only gotten to the basics of Scrivener, but I feel like I understand it now. And I can get to more complex use of it in time.

It feels good to be making progress. *

Challenge : U is for Umbrella

 
U is for Umbrella.

Now I know some of you may be thinking, "Of course she's writing about Umbrellas. Didn't she recently say she's in the Pacific Northwest, which is famous for their amount of rainfall?"

But in that you'd be incorrect. At least for those of us who claim native or near-native status. For us, we don't usually have umbrellas. We're so accustomed to the rain that we don't bother. And with the winds and the gear we carry when we're out in the rain, really - what use is an umbrella? It's more of a hindrance than a help.

See, out here, we tend to have coats with hoods. Several of them to go with the varying seasons. And they're waterproof or at least water resistant. A hood gives you more mobility by keeping your hands free and by not fighting with the wind.

So I'm talking about Umbrellas not because I'm from here, but because of a recent trip to San Francisco in the late fall and the extensive use of Umbrellas that I saw. It was fascinating to watch people with their Umbrellas - their rituals, their struggles, their variety. And I was quite content with the hooded coat I'd brought along with me.

Umbrellas can be fun or serious or make a statement. I loved watching the colorful sea of umbrellas as people jostled for space. Some of them had personal sized Umbrellas which barely covered the circumference of their personal space. Some were giant golf Umbrellas (I think; I'm not a golfer so I may be wrong) which were intended to cover the golfer, the caddy and more (I think: did I say I'm not a golfer?) - but they weren't sharing on the streets of San Francisco. And everything inbetween: copies of art

photo from Virtual Tourist: Chinese New Year in the Rain

masterpieces; jokes; pieces of body parts which were silly when combined with the person holding the Umbrella; and the standard business compatible colors of blacks, grays, blues and reds.

The Umbrellas jostled for space over their owners heads, like bumper cars or overfilled helium balloons. Except that some people's heads were shoulder height to their neighbors.

When the rain stopped, people took out a few Umbrella bags, but those without had clear plastic bags, shaped like cake decorating cones, into which they put the now dripping Umbrella. And inside the doorways of stores and restaurants were racks of these same Umbrella bags, with cutesy names depending on where the shop owner purchased them.

There were discarded Umbrellas in the standing pools of water in gutters; their bent and broken spokes sticking out in different directions. On some the fabric had some loose from their spine; some were completely disheveled.

U is for Umbrellas. Now you see them; now you don't.
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NaNoWriMo Day 20: Travel and Writing

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Today we headed home from the coast. We saw a few trees down, a lot of debris of course, and some flooding. We were only detoured one time - an expected area of road coming out of Tillamook, which floods easily and often.

We made a stop for an appointment in Tigard and then headed on home. After which I met a friend for dinner and conversation then went on to work.

The appointment in Tigard wasn't mine - it was my partner's. So what did I do? You guessed : I sat in the car and wrote.

The words written today is 2082.  My total word count as of right now: 45,359. Yahoo! Way ahead of schedule.

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NaNoPhoto Update

...this is the photograph to go with today's post (though the storm photo works, too)...
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

NaNoWriMo Day 19 : Illuminating

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The storm was raging hard this morning. Winds blowing the ocean back against itself and causing it to find alternate pathways to the shore in places. Trees were shipped forward and back and sideways.

And at 9:30 AM the power went out in this whole tiny town. Trees had come down across power lines along the coast highway. Water had flooded the highway north of here and only large trucks were being let through. Other highways closed because of trees, an accident, overturned trucks.

And I sat her with a fully charged laptop, a mostly charged Blackberry with minimal data connection and I wrote. And wrote.

The power finally came back on about 9 hours after it went out. We were able to make a hot dinner and hot tea and watch a couple of rounds of Law & Order. And I wrote some more.

My new total word count is 43,277 and today I wrote just a hair under 4,400 words.
Now, time to get ready for bed because tomorrow morning I head for home.
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Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

NaNoWriMo Day 18 : Writing Out the Storm

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It's been very stormy all day today. It did pick up, as predicted, about 5 PM. I haven't heard for sure, but they said there would be winds up to 70 mph and higher gusts, with buckets (my word) of rain. And that is what it felt like.

We did venture down to one of two restaurants in town for burgers, lattes, and wifi. I'm lucky that I do have mobile service at the cabin; most carriers don't here at all. So I have been able to check email, post to Facebook *grin* and check in on a few other things. Though the service is slower than normal and extra patience is require.

Which are good things. It keeps me off the internet and keeps me focused on why I'm here: NaNoWriMo and writing.

Which I did.

My current word count is 38,350 with total words written today of 4190. I was writing up a storm inside while the wind and rain raged outsidr.

Another good writing day. And I think major parts of it will even be salvageable after November.
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Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

NaNoWriMo Day 17: Writing Grains of Sand

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It's been stormy at the coast for most of the day. The cabin is warm with its old fashioned heater and the fully stocked kitchen has made staying in to eat easy and healthy.

There was a break in the storm for a while and, since I had written about 3,200 words by that time, I decided to take a break and go to the beach for a walk.

The wind was mild and the temperature cold, but I didn't care. I had on layers and my rain coat, since I could see the rain hovering on the ocean which could hit the town before I got back. But once I got on the beach, I took off my Keens. My feet needed to feel the sand and the salty water, even though it was about 43 degrees.

No, I didn't go wading, except to cross a couple of small streams running to the ocean.

A nice balance to the sitting and typing. Ah.

Then, after a shower to thaw my feet and warm my chilled body, I made a kale salad and a side of quinoa.

Followed by more writing. Some of it against a backdrop of Law & Order on the TV. (Perhaps that's what influenced the murder of a dog in the novel today. Hm.)

I'm calling it a day - and a good writing day it was. My total word count is now 34,180. Total words written today? Just over 5,000.

Yes.
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Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

NaNoDay 16 midnight update

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My word count at 2 minutes to midnight is now 28,526. A good writing day.
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Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

NaNoWriMo Day 16 : Somewhere Over the Ocean

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I know, it should be "rainbow." But there is no rainbow, only miles of Ocean. And the air is salty from the sea, mixing with the sometimes horizontal rain being dumped from the sky and blown about by the strong winds.

Inside the rental cabin, which is really the upper floor of a vertical duplex, the heater warms the cold air. We unpack the New Seasons groceries, our clothes, the necessary laptop, a bottle of Cabernet.

As of 10:30 PM I've passed the minimum daily average written words : 1675 words for a total of 27,696 words on my novel so far.

It is feeling more novel-like and the writing is more fun.

Now back to my writing and send this before I lose the unstable connection (I'm lucky; most carriers don't even work in this town!).
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Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Radical Writer Confronts a NaNoCold: NaNoWriMo Day 13

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I am being diligent in resisting this cold which is hitting almost everywhere I go. Where I work. Where I write. At home. I. Will. Not. Get. Sick.

"Germy" by Dot

But I have the early signs of the illness, according to my partner : namely, a little "blue" and a feeling like everything is an uphill battle, a little tired with spurts of energy which disappear, and a few aches. This morning I felt like I had the beginning of a runny nose - but thankfully that has gone away.

I skipped swimming today because of this. But I am taking walks on my work breaks, because getting exercise isn't the problem - but sometimes the chemicals in the pool irritate my throat on good days (they seem to have moved away from the Salt Pure system, but it still seems to be low chlorine).

Anyway - enough of that!

It's NaNoWriMo Day 13 and, despite the feeling of this being a worthless endeavor and the writing is stupid and why am I stressing myself - I'm still writing. I will not let the mid-month blahs set in and I will not let the stubborn germs take hold.

I did get some extra sleep. And I did retrieve my coat from the writing place where I forgot it yesterday (another illness coming on symptom for me). And I wrote. This is just the type of day for which I like to have some extra words in the bank.

Today I wrote 1153 words before going to work, for a closing word count of 24,030.

This writer, whether feeling at all radical or not, will not be stopped from writing by a little cold germ.
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