Monday, November 09, 2009


So, once again I am writing a novel this month, BAM! And once again I am procrastinating like whoa. I am incredibly over confident in my capacity to churn out 30,000 words in 4 or 5 days.

Its very strange to talk about this with new people, because inevitably the first question is, "Well, what is it about?" And when I pause for like 10 seconds before answering, they start to think I'm full of shit.


Then they know I'm full of shit.

Here's the thing, I have an idea for a plot and so far, the narrative is kind of going in that direction that I wanted it to, but the plot is kind of weird (because it was the first thing I came up with) and anytime I try to explain it to someone they give me a look of, "uh...listen Novel-girl..."

And the thing is, its not really about that - what this "novel" about is writing. I've spent pages discussing things like, Friendly's, being in a cab, and the waiting room of a hospital.

I am comforted by the fact that this piece of work will never see the light of day (or anyone else's eyes for that matter). Its a way for me to sculpt sentences, to play with metaphors and just explore thoughts.

I used to make my novels run a close parallel to my life as a way of trying to figure out what I should be doing, but now its fun to explore the paths I didn't take - the things that might have been and the things that would have never been but are fun to write about.

So I just write and write and occasionally think about how this is going to align itself with the plot I figured out. Its similar to improv in this way except longer lasting.

See you guys at the end of the tunnel.

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She's pint-sized and amazing.