A Novel in 10 days

Ok. So I've either completely lost my mind, or I'm about to embark on some brilliant plan that I should have stumbled on a year and a half ago.

Here's the story in a nutshell. I'm lying on the bed at physio this morning, thinking where I'm going to go shopping this afternoon, while wasting time on twitter. Lo and behold, I see a tweet that catches my interest from Avon publishers (you know, the crowd I'm hoping will buy my regency when it's done.) The tweet says "NEWS: Avon Books Issuing a Call to New Writers - NaRoWriMo!" (National Romance Novel Writing Month)

Well, it turns out that theres a writing contest held every year that challenges people to write a novel of at least 50,000 words in the the month of November. It must be a new book, not one you've been working on. Anyhow, the fine folks at Avon's e-book publishing division figure this is a great way to find themselves some new writers, and will be accepting the output of this contest for consideration. A bit more research and I find out that they are really looking for some contemporary romance novels. Well, that's a far cry from the regency book I'm writing, but if it means a shot at having someone read my work and possibly publish it, then sign me up.

Of course, my darling Reg is all for it, and is already trying to find ways to keep Rowan occupied so mommy can write. I'm very lucky to have him.

So my friends. For the next 10 days (until November 30th) I am going to do my best to write a novel. From start to finish. 50,000 words. That' 5000 a day. And given that it's 2:26 pm here in Newfoundland, I doubt I'll get 5000 done today. But for anyone that knows me, I tend to do well with deadlines. Grad school, copy writing and journalism makes that a perfected skill of mine.

I'm going to update this blog daily so you'll know how I'm making out.

I'm not truly crazy....... I think.

I had a baby!

Remember that time I started a blog and said this is the year I'm going to finish a novel? Yea. That was a great year for me. Because what I wasn't blogging about was that my priorities in life followed in this order:

1) Have a baby

2) Write a novel

3) Everything else

I wasn't blogging about having a baby because I'd been trying for five years and it still hadn't happened and to be honest, it was getting downright depressing. But then guess what happened about a month after I wrote that last post? My doctor said I'd finally been a good girl and had lost all the weight I was supposed to and that we could finally try fertility treatment. So our fall became all about trying to get pregnant! 

I'm thrilled to say that after just two months of treatment I was able to pee on a stick and see that ever elusive plus sign. And in August our little boy came out all perfect and happy and life has been a whole new experience ever since. 

So I didn't finish my novel last year. And I don't feel guilty about it because I accomplished something much bigger. But that's not to say I've given up. I'm hoping that as I get used to motherhood I can find some time to write. In fact, a few weeks ago while baby slept and daddy slept, I did manage to get in a few new paragraphs. It may take a little longer now, but on the plus side, next to being the best mommy I can be, writing a novel now moves up the list. 

Oh, and just so you know, I did try writing while pregnant, however everytime I sat down in front of the keyboard I kept wanting to make all the characters pregnant. And I hate novels where the characters are either forced into marriage because they're pregnant, or have sex for the first time and get pregnant. That wasn't the book I wanted to write. 

So when I do manage to find a moment, and some inspiration and sit myself down and do some writing, I'll blog about it and let you know. Now back to the baby... 

Tall tales

Once upon a time there was a lady who thought, "I'm gonna write a blog about writing a book." And she did, for a little while. Until one day an evil hag came to her castle and tied her up in miles and miles and miles of rope. "Now," cackled the weathered old crone, who just happened to hate romance novels, "no more writing for you." Until one day, the fair writer was freed by...

Ok. You're not buying it are you. I bet you're sitting there reading saying, "Right Vicki. You were held hostage by a regency-repulsed retiree. If that's the best excuse you have for not writing, then I'm logging out."

You're right. No need for excuses. Cause I don't have one. The summer came. Long evenings. Long cold evenings with rain, drizzle and fog, perhaps, but still ok to sear meat to on the open grill and consume wine. And I just sort of forgot that I was writing a book. Or a blog. And that's not a good thing, is it. I mean, how the heck am I supposed to finish a novel, when I just kept forgetting to write the bloody thing. And as for the blog, well, I convientently forgot that too. And then, last night as I sat at my computer, frustrated with work because I've been working a lot lately, goofing around posting pictures of my cats and fish and mom's dog and the birds from last winter on Facebook - which I never do because I hate Facebook most days - I thought, "Why the hell am I not writing?"

So that's a good question. And there's no good answer other than, " Right. Back to it." So there you have it. I'm not making any blog promises now that I might not keep, but if I get all my work done this weekend, then maybe I'll get back to writing. After all, there's three months left to the year. And I said this was the year I was going to finish my novel. So stay tuned, friends. Because as the fall approaches, I expect so will the words.

A long weekend on the horizon...

Do we want to take bets about whether I'll manage to get a sentence, let alone a paragraph written over the Victoria Day weekend?

Let's see. Saturday morning I might get some writing done. Unless I drink too much wine while celebrating my sister's 30th birthday at a fancy downtown restaurant.

The rest of Saturday will likely be a write off. I'm heading to my parent's cabin for the night, and I have a feeling my darling 2 year old nephew will not stand for Auntie hiding away and trying to write.

Sunday. Gone again. Off to the hubby's parents cabin for a 40th wedding anniversary party.

If we can manage to get up and on the road Monday morning, then there's a slight chance that I can manage to hunker down at home and write.

Now you might wonder why I'm not taking this nice long weekend to write. Where's the dedication? Unfortunately, the May 24th weekend has never been one where relaxation is on the agenda. Between birthdays and cabin trips, and the unofficial start to a good Newfoundland summer -never mind that quite often this weekend late in May is peppered with snow-well, there are things that must be done. And writing doesn't seem to be one of them.

Happy long weekend to everyone in Canada. And happy regular oh-so-short weekend to everyone else.

Definitions

Is it a bad thing to tell your boss that on your list of priorities in life, this is the lay of the land?

1. Starting a family

2. Writing novels

3. Doing my job

I honestly don't know. But I figure there are times to fudge the truth, and times to be honest, and that moment just seemed like the right time to set it straight. That doesn't mean that when I'm at work, I'm not committed. I am. It's one of the reasons it's so hard to write in the evening. I'm too busy checking emails, thinking about my projects, reading up on how to do my job better. But when it comes down to it, my job is just my job. It doesn't define who I am.

I'm trying hard not to let the things I want define who I am either. After all, I'm not yet a mother, nor a novelist. But that doesn't keep me from trying to become both. So new rule. I'm going to try harder when I'm home in the evening to think like a novelist, and less like a marketer.

Let's see how it goes.

Know thy enemy. Know thyself.

Today I received a copy of the Romance Writers Report from the nice people at Romance Writers of America. The cover was lovely. A woman (in much better shape than I am) sat resting peacefully on a rock, water behind her, and a laptop perched on her... well, lap, of course. And there it was. The headline. "Defeating your own worst enemy-yourself."

Did everything Shirley Jump, the article's author, say apply to me? Of course not. We all have different issues. And her point-of-view was from that which I wish I was, an author able to stay home all day and procrastinate. I, on the other hand, need to fit my procrastination in to my weekends and evenings. Still, it was timely. And some of her advice seemed written just for me. Here are my favourite take-aways from her article:

• Bribe yourself: She uses candy, or a lunch with friends. I think I'll use wine. Or that lovely 12-year-old Macallan Reg gave me for Christmas.

• Find extra time: Ok. The person who can get up at 4 am to write, wow. Good for her. I don't think I can do that. But maybe I can get up by 5:30. I can try that. Or commit to two nights a week. I'm going to give it a go.

• Make a list: Oh boy. I'm the queen of making lists. You should see my desk. And my notebook. And even the Things app on my iPad. I make great lists. But I don't follow them that well. But... if I combine making the list, with the bribery, then I might be on to something.

• Stop bad behavior by doing something different: My bad behavior (I'm talking that behaviour that keeps me from writing, here, not those bad things I've done in the past!) is telling myself I need to feel inspired to write. As in my current mindset, which is, I can only write when I have lots of time and freedom and am hidden away in the woods. If that's what it takes, then I'm never going to finish this book. So what should my something different be? Thoughts?

And finally, this didn't come from the article, but from my dear husband, who never stops being supportive.

"Write something on that blog of yours everyday. Even if it's just two sentences." He's right. If I can update twitter, I can write a little post.

So there we have it. Think I can pull it off? Stay tuned tomorrow.

PS: I had no idea who Shirley Jump was, so I googled her (did you know Google doesn't want to erode their brand by turning their search engine into a verb? Silly google. It's too late for that. We all go googling.) Anyhow, turns out she has a blog, and I like it. At least the first few posts I've seen. She writes about writing, and food, and drinks. I think I'll like her blog a lot. I linked to it above. So if you click on her name, you too can read about food and drinks.

Out of the woods

Good news all. After a week in the woods, I have emerged with six chapters written.

What I need to do now is keep up the momentum I've created and not let work take over again. It's back to the grind tomorrow, and I hope that it won't end in another three month long dry spell. I think the hubby and I have created a plan though to prevent it. Every second weekend we'll try and slip away.

Yes, I said we. Because the only downfall of my week was the realization that I don't like spending nights alone in the wild anymore. Before I met my hubby I was quite the independent lady. In fact, I once went to my parent's cabin alone for almost two months! Then I fell in love, got used to having him with me wherever I went, and Voila. Eight years pass and I find myself alone in the woods, terrified at the slightest creak and shimmy. Needless to say, the remedy for this was to have Reg come up to the cabin every night. Good for me. Bad for him. I'm a very lucky woman to have a man like him in my life.

So aside from the scary nights, here's a quick rundown of how a day progressed.

I'd get up around 8, make coffee and have some grapefruit. Take a quick scroll through what I'd written the day before. If it wasn't snowing or raining I'd walk down to the pond with the camera to see if I could spot the two ducks that had holed up in the little bit of the pond that wasn't frozen.

Back at the cabin, I was working at the kitchen table. One thing I discovered was that a lack of distraction is wonderful. No TV. No internet. Just me, some music, a vase of tulips and a lovely view. I'd sit and write, whole scenes jumping out of my head, onto the page. One thing I didn't do was sit and stare at each sentence, reworking it over and over.

My goal for this trip was to get as much of the story out of my head as possible. There'll be lots of editing and tweaking to come, I assure you. But now at least I have a clearer idea of what's happening, who my main characters are, what makes the chemistry between them work, why they care for each other, what is the primary obstacle that they need to overcome. With each day came new ideas, whole chapters coming alive.

It was a heavenly week. I proved that I can make progress on this, and I have a better idea of what's happening next. I need to stay out of the over-thinking pit, at this stage at least. There'll be lots of time for that once I have a complete draft in front of me. For now, I'm just going to write whatever comes to me. It seems to be working that way.

All I need is some peace and quiet, a pretty view, and a good husband not too far away come night fall.