chronicled & illustrated

fathers go to war
Originally uploaded by nuanc

My dad died on November 20th. I think. But I’m not certain of it. It is one of those dates that really seems as if it SHOULD stick— forever and without a doubt—in my mind, especially for someone like me who is basically good with dates and details. However, it doesn’t. I know what this is about. I have a mental block. I don’t want to remember it. If I remember the date, I have to also remember the details of that week and other things that my mind will immediately associate with this part of November such as when John Kennedy was shot and sometimes even US Thanksgiving which wasn’t always the best holiday for me.

Both John Kennedy and Corey Shepard—these good, interesting and smart men—have been gone a very long time. I was pregnant with my second son when my dad died and he is now 27 years old. But it will always make me sad that they died young and unfinished.

We are smartest when we appreciate life even through all the hardships and challenges and sad days that are rougher than others.

Yesterday I got a rejection letter. It was a wonderfully personal and NICE rejection letter. But it still hurt. I’ve always said that they’re like getting kicked in the shin. It’s a sudden unexpected sharp pain that doesn’t last long, then it’s sore for a little while and then you move on and don’t think about it much. Today, it’s still a little tender.

Small wounds and large, we sometimes just have an achy day to get through.

Twelve days in. Twelve is another great number. Twelve days of Christmas. Twelve Apostles. Twelve Steps. Twelve Months. Twelve Dwarves, Twelve Continents, Twelve Shopping Days till it’s too late to send my packages anywhere….oops! I went too far. Twelve is also one of those words that looks stranger and stranger the more you write it.

Today I passed the 20,000 word mark. Now it’s supposed to be smooth sailing for week, right? Something like that.

What I seem to remember from years past is that during the second weeks of the month there are a few brilliant days of massive word count because it’s all flowing stupendously well and then in there all mixed up with the Good Days, are days of complete and total misery due to the fact that what has been free flowing (sometimes disconcertedly so) set-up now has to be turned into Properly Plotted Scenes. [That’s something like Properly Clotted Creams without the calories—or taste.]

It tends to get tight toward the middle of the end. Hmmm. Must be some metaphorical (or physiological) significance somewhere in that sentence….

I do not have any words of wisdom for myself tonight so I think I’ll keep this short. I simply had to blog since today on the twelfth of November, I joined NaNo—no, no—NaBloPoMo. God. I don’t even know what it stands for, but there I was: signing up, giving out all my most personal of information, signing my real name, agreeing to god-knows what terms, uploading photos of myself, writing out a way-too-long and also boring *About Me* section and signing up for about 30 groups. All I know is that I’m supposed to blog everyday in the month of November. Since I was doing it anyway, it had to be worth my time to do all that fixing up of yet again one more social networking group. Right?

Time to go. I hope those Terms of Agreement that I didn’t read didn’t include having to be brilliant.

Hah. No real chance of that on either end.

It’s going well.

I’m staying on track with the word count. It’s a little scary because I have no cushion but maybe that will come in the loveliness that is (usually; if your lucky and good) Week 2.

What?
We’re already days into Week 2?
oh my.

Yesterday one of those moments we writers live for happened.

I was doing something else. Not writing. Not thinking about writing, though I guess my mind was wandering over the literal landscape of the novel-thus-far, and without warning, an IDEA came. Whew. So great. This idea is so perfectly good and unexpected. It gives me real, plot-driven reasons to continue what I’m doing and will tie this (the third) book into the histories of the first two with such symmetry and excellence that it has left me with the FEELING that I know what I’m doing after all.

HOORAY!!!

It’s all illusion of course (that I know what I’m doing), but we writers don’t care. We love illusion.

Must. Go. Write.

I have to get my cool back so I can write today.

I’ve been searching through my computer looking for files that are lost.

I’ve never been a tidy person. Try as I do, my actual paper files are not organized perfectly. I’m always behind on filing things and even I cannot remember whether I filed car insurance papers under “I” for insurance, “C” for car or “H” for Honda. But for all that, I can usually find things.

This morning I was searching for business cards I made in August or early September. I have a folder for these things. It’s labelled: EPIC/logos, letterheads, business cards. But they aren’t there. Sheesh! I can find other things I made at that time. But these are simply not where they are supposed to be. It’s so completely frustrating!

If I can’t rely on my computer to keep the things that I’ve filed in the place I tell it to file them, what the hell can a slightly disorganized person do?! I would ordinarily assume that I’d just wasn’t paying attention and that they’d gone into an alternate graphic folder but, no. I can’t find them. And it seems even more mysterious because there are five files, one for each Board member! How could five separate files disappear?

Sigh.

Anyway, I have to give up because I’m using all my writing time to search for files that aren’t essential right now. I just kept thinking that I’d find them, because I know they have to be there! Writing time is dwindling as I have a dentist appointment this afternoon. No end to the fun today!

Yesterday went pretty well. I continue to feel that I’m setting everything up and am not sure where the plot threads are, much less where they are going. But I seem to remember that this is First Week stuff. You have to get everyone in place and the backstory related without simply plopping it on the page in one huge dollop and you have to introduce the main characters and give them a setting that the reader can visualize. It’s not the most compelling part of writing a novel. That’s the problem. But that’s also the beauty of doing so much writing in a month. Get this set up (mostly) out of the way in a week rather than a YEAR at which point, most sane people would say, “Chuck this! It’s never going to go anywhere!”

I’m still slightly behind on word count and it doesn’t look promising that I’ll catch up today, but you never know.

Sorry for the missing computer folder rant. I needed it.

UPDATE:
The word count is now on track (though God Knows if the writing I did today is worth a single dnaldo (currency of the country Dnemz in the novel I’m writing).

And, more importantly, the files were found. They were in a back-up folder in the backcountry of my computer. I don’t how that happened but I found them not through any of the dozens of Searches I did but in Recent Files—though it was at least two months since I did them. Anyway, computer, it seems I owe you and apology. You kept my files and for that I’m grateful. That I can’t find them is, I admit, my fault, not yours. I’m sorry.

birthday present!,
originally uploaded by nuanc.

Today is my birthday. This is a wonderful surprise gift from my husband. I’m thrilled to bits and pieces and would be out taking photos except that the battery has to charge first.
I should be reading the manual but I can only absorb so much at a time. Especially before I’ve even had a chance to take one shot!

Here’s a poem written on my birthday in 1995, revised for today

Birth Day

Sunday,
glistening glinting
but growing grayer
Yesterday,
not as showy
but with morning rolling into
an afternoon of full summer
changing to cool deep night
full of fire flies and intimacy
dissolving into the first thunderstorm
of a dry season

Today
is no memory
yet
present moment
elusive fleeting
already gone
capture impossible
unlike those fire flies
who let themselves
be caught
Let me catch
this moment more fully
these summery sights
this singular smell
symphonious overlapping sounds

As I write,
the sun comes
through clustering clouds
for the third time
I know
because I am witness
that today is no better
than the last two days
I know
because it is now
if there were but one
in all of creation
this would be
the day

I ended my last post by saying I’d be busy for a while with my school girl friends who were going to be visiting from Texas. But instead I’m here because they opted out of coming. It was a shock, as they cancelled abruptly the day before they were to arrive and the decision was already made without my input.

I’m still wandering around picking up the pieces.

My friend decided not to come because the forecast for the week was for rain. She says it’s just a postponement and not a cancellation but that just makes me laugh because when—I wonder—does she think she can come to Nova Scotia with a guaranteed forecast of no rain?

I’m using this photo manipulation I call “Peeling Rain” since it’s supposedly a rainy post.

Peeling rain seems especially appropriate since it’s NOT a rainy morning here in Cape Breton. It’s a gorgeous, perfect summer’s day. Bright sun, light breeze, slightly cool. All I can think is that it’s their loss. They…stuck as they are in blisteringly hot Texas for the summer. And yet, it is my loss as well. I would have loved to have shared this day with them.

Here is my proof of the wonders of a Nova Scotian summer day. All taken this morning, July 5th:

“inner sunshine”

“joy around”

“bee happy”

“blue breeze”

“volunteers”

“purple non-rain”

made myself laugh with that title.

So, I will attempt to regain my focus and work on that almost finished short story…or maybe I should go lie in the hammock and soak up the warmth before it starts to rain.

Cheers.