I'm freaking nuts

Well, I'm going to do it.

No really.

I'm going to participate in National Novel Writing Month.

No, seriously. I've got to write something creative before I go nuts. My daily Twaiku's are not scratching the itch sufficiently.

My word count goal is going to be fewer (not less? should I say less here) than the official number of 50,000. I'm shooting for 35,000.

I am torn between writing a suspenseful, scary story and writing a story I've been mulling over as I read the Book of Mormon. Have you ever noticed how much dramatic potential is in that book? Yes, it's scripture and has saved my life numerous times, but by golly it's rich dramatic material.

I've also been wondering if I ought to write a romance-- just as a test. No, really, a test of whether I can do it and make it good and not just blech. I need to practice with writing emotion and getting deeply into the emotion so that my readers can identify with my characters.

Any ideas?

More, by popular demand...

Okay, it's late, but I'm getting this in. I wanted to do a writing exercise today to finish updating this blog. Before I do that though, I have a couple items of business.



I have a great network of support for my writing. Friends and some family have been tremendous sources of support and validation. Writer friends, I just want to give a shout out to you: Kristi and Melinda (I put Kristi first because K is before M in the alphabet, sorry Melinda) and also to Nanci Arvizu. I've got these great ladies' blogs' links over there on the right --> so I recommend you stop by.



Thanks for keeping me going with this whole thing. Something's gonna give. It will.



And the other thing is that I think I'll do my posts all staggered-like. So an update on my career and then a writing exercise a few days later.



What's more, for any writers who read this, I invite you to join me in doing the writing exercises I do here. They're keeping the creative juices flowing for me-- and that's a valuable thing right now.



Okay, so today's writing exercise. The story will be a continuation of the romance I did last time. The exercise is to write dialogue that rings true and that helps give the characters some depth.



So here we go. If you recall, Jonah saw Brenda on a running path. They might have some kind of history. Jonah had french toast with his daughter that morning. He might be divorced. The scene ends with an embrace.



For a more detailed recap, scroll down some to the post itself! It's not that long.

Jonah felt her arms begin to loosen. He didn't want to let go, but he knew he should. He had to be careful here. He felt as if fate had offered him the most wonderful of prizes, but that the prize could evaporate if he did something stupid.

They both stepped back. Her warmth stayed with his shoulders and neck.

Their eyes met.

She opened her mouth, but he spoke first, stumbling over his words. He glanced down, then back up to look in her eyes. "I can't believe it. How does.. I mean... How is this even possible?"

Brenda smiled. "I know!" She stopped, seeming uncomfortable with the open joy in her voice. "I know," she said again, quieter.

"I mean," Jonah began, then stopped. "I have no clue what to say right now." He let out a breath.

"I know," Brenda said. She looked around. "We should... we should catch up. You know... It's been fifteen years!"

"Yeah!" Jonah said. His breath caught briefly in his chest. He pushed through it. "Right. Exactly. I can't believe... fifteen years."

A new silence spread between them. This one thoughtful, rather than heavy.

"That's a long time," Jonah said finally.

"No kidding," Brenda said. Her hazel eyes caught his gaze. "Do you have time now?"

"Yeah!" Jonah heard the hope in her voice. He stopped. Emily. "Crap. No, I don't. I've gotta take my daughter to tae kwon do."

"Daughter? You have a daughter?" Brenda's expression became guarded.

This was it. Jonah knew this moment, what he said now, could ruin this chance. He looked deeply into Brenda's eyes. "Yes. I was married. Divorced a few years ago. I got custody. It's a long story." He took a breath. "I really want to tell you the story, though."

Brenda looked over Jonah's shoulder, then down the path in the direction she had been coming from. Jonah steeled himself for what might come. He looked down.

"Okay," Brenda said.

Jonah looked up. The sight of her eyes, her familiar face that was in so many ways the exact same as it had been, but was now marked almost imperceptibly by time... he caught his breath.

"I want to hear it. I have a story to tell too," Brenda said.

Jonah allowed the tension to seep from his shoulders. He took a breath. "Great. It's been a long time."

"A lifetime," Brenda said.

"Yeah." He mentally took a step back. Fifteen years ago, he would have imagined this scene. That summer had been incredible. Full of laughter and life and... just full. More full than anything else he had ever known. He had been so certain that fate would bring them back together. He had imagined their reunion so many times the following fall.

But in his daydreams, fifteen years hadn't passed. Reality was different.

He wanted to take her hand. He wanted to tell her how his heart had seemed... used up... after that summer. Like it had burned too hot to ever be able to catch flame again.

Jonah knew it would be cliche, out of a movie. He didn't care.

"Brenda," he said. "This feels like... like something's being corrected. Like there was a puzzle with a piece in the wrong place." His gaze explored her face again. "But like the piece just got put right."

Brenda blinked. Her eyes glimmered for a moment. She swallowed deeply.

Jonah felt the warmth of her hand a moment before her skin touched his. An electric bolt shot up his arm, hitting his chest and igniting his entire body. His heart stammered, sputtered, then steadied.

She squeezed his hand. "Right. It just feels right. A long time coming."

He squeezed back. A long time coming. A grin stretched his face tight. "How about lunch?"

Right, that's it for today.

Okay, so how's the dialogue? Is it real? This is a pretty fantastic situation, so the dialogue is a challenge. How'd I do? Did it add depth to the characters?

I'm having some interesting ideas with this one. Maybe even a screenplay, if I knew how to write one.

Oh well, I guess it's time for chocolate. Or a Coke Cherry Zero.

Or both.

Let me know what you think so far!

Writing Exercise- flunky

You might ask: What does 'flunky' have to do with writing exercises? Funny you should ask, because I'm having trouble finding a way to meld a slick answer to that question into the meat of my post.

No dice. My cogitation has failed. There is a total paucity of ideas vis-a-vis the melding into the meat.

Have I failed?

Perish the thought! I haven't even done my writing exercise yet. I've gotten plenty of other exercise though, phew. I walked about 3 1/2 miles on Wednesday (I always have to stop as I write that day's name... the D goes BEFORE the N...) and I walked about a mile and a half yesterday.

Still overly weighted.

Okay, so flunky. Today's writing exercise is the choosing of random words and then a ten minute freewrite, using the random words. What is it supposed to do? Jumpstart the creative engine. Get the creative juices flowing. Nurture creative seeds to burst forth and bloom. Saute the creative meat... nope. That one didn't work.

Here's how I will get my random words. I shall go to an article on http://www.bbc.com/ and choose the seventh noun, the fifteenth noun, and the first active verb. Here they come.

Ship, pirates, escape.

Okay, those are my random words. I shall now use them all in a brief, free-written narrative. This will be a ten minute freewrite.

In the word of Inigo Montoya: Begin.

Last night might have been the most ridiculous night of my life. There I was innocently, no seriously, walking along a deserted pier on a mist-blanketed waterfront, a backpack bursting with unmarked bills on my back, and I saw a dog.

I say dog, but what I really mean is the most terrifying creature ever seen. Allow me to explain. It had four legs, a long tail, and a long tongue that gave it the impression of panting. But I think maybe it was a cold-blooded creature of some kind that used its tongue to taste the world around it.

But that was no dog. Nope. Its shoulders came to about as high as my navel, I'm 5' 10", and if it had stood on its hind legs, its head would have been higher than me. In the mist-blanketed dark, it looked like it had fur, but that wasn't fur anyone should pet. Its body was actually covered in scale-like stuff, not small enough to be cilia, but numerous enough to look like fur. It stuck up all over the body, at varying angles, so you couldn't have even petted the thing with the grain of its fur/scales.

The last thing I should mention is that its eyes glowed pale yellow. No, there was one more thing... It spoke.

The dog thingamajig said, "You are he?"

I stopped, my heart hammering like a pneumatic hammer on meth. I grunted, although I had meant to say, "Uh?"

The thing made a noise that sounded like a cross between an old train and a.. well.. a fart. "You. You it is that I wait for?"

Okay, so now the thing had become a terrifying Yoda. "Nope!" I turned to escape what I was sure was my imminent doom. I got about fifteen feet before something landed on my back. Something. Right. Terrifying Yoda, I mean.

"You it is! Food you carry!" Terrifying Yoda tore at my backpack with its teeth.

I scrabbled at the old wooden planks. Nothing doing. Cool breath blew on my neck. Suddenly a tearing sound.

"Found! To the ship we go!" The T-Y grabbed my foot in its huge mouth and, breaking the skin only slightly, proceeded to drag me down the pier, turning right down a path were a bunch of ships were moored.

And now my time is up.

Interesting. Might have to pursue that one.

So that's a good writing exercise for any creative writer who's just trying to get things going. Devise a way that you can get several random words, then give yourself ten minutes to free-write something. The activity is uncontrolled enough that your imagination is given free rein to roam (alliteration!), but there is enough structure to keep things civilized.

You might have noticed I didn't use 'pirates' in the free-write. I was getting there. I didn't have a way to put it into the narrative that was taking shape without it being forced or artificial.

This writing exercise was adapted from one I found on http://www.ofb.net/~lisa/exercise.html, which is one of the many handy writer sites out there.

Wasn't that fun? Go do it yourself now. No, really, go do it. This kind of activity is refreshing and somewhat liberating. It can help you overcome writer's block, get you out of a rut, or just kick start your day.

If you love this post, or even if you don't, pass it along. Share the link for this blog or this post on all kinds of sites. Digg, reddit, delicious, Facebook-- all of them work. Come back soon!

The plan.. sort of

Okay, here're the preliminaries. I do this so I can be accountable. They say that written goals are achievable goals. (Yes, the 'i' goes before the 'e' in that word)

Gonna get up no later than 5:15AM every week morning. I will write for 30 minutes. It will be fiction. For now, it will be a book that I will finish by June 1st. That is about 76 days of writing. If I can do 500 words every writing morning, I will have 38,000 words. That's not bad, right?

If I can't finish by June 1st, it will be done by July 1st at the latest.

So that's creative writing planned. Will it be hard to get up?

Funny you should ask. Because yes!

I'd like to be putting about 3 hours into www.helium.com every week. I have to figure out when to do this. Maybe in the evenings.

I also need to get stuff written for Maximum Yield and Demand Studios.

Plus, I have side projects to get done.

And I got squat-all done this week. Sometimes it's hard to feel good about yourself.. has anybody else noticed that?

I just have one more thing to say:

Lily's eyes, the size of her life
lived large and loud and loved
lull me, capture me.
Her squeeze, tight and tiny
but large and loud and loving
melts me, breaks me.