Stream of consciousness

I was on my way to a nearby park, wandering along the sidewalk with my nose in this old journal I have had in my pocket for years, ready to receive any brilliant thoughts I should have. It is a small Moleskine, apparently a lifetime supply based on the number of brilliant thoughts I have written into it so far. I did jot down a couple ideas recently, and when I checked to see what I had written previously, it was an idea about the possible form this very novel could take, written in October 2006; the idea would solve a few problems I am currently facing with the story, and should make the job of writing it a lot more fluent. I hadn’t realized I had been carrying this story around in my head for so long, but when I stop to think about it, it’s been around nine years since I had the original dream that lies at its center. So instead of continuing my walk, I ran back to my PC to blog about it.

Doing it, baby

I am doing it, baby. You can watch here.

The Metamorphosism Theory of Writing is, writing is like a cat going to the bathroom on the litter box. And re-writing is sifting through the litter with the little shovel, and going, “turd, turd, pee, turd, pee, hey is that a ruby? Nah, just a Barbie shoe. Turd. Pee. SAPPHIRE!!!”

The thing is, you have to go to the bathroom first and not sift until you’re done and it’s cooled off. And then you have to sift for long enough, yet know when to quit.1

1MToW is a work in progress


Has it been five years since the metamorphosism challenge? Was 2003 really the last year I participated in Nanowrimo, and wrote 2 novels in a single month? I forgot how exciting this is. Tiring too, and today is the first day. It is coming back to me, though. How burned out I was afterwards – five years worth of burned out, I guess.

The story I want to write is, emphatically, not about zombies, so all I can think of right now is zombies. Zombie Tools in particular, are to blame.

Zombies, zombies, zombies.

Possibly a bad idea

I didn’t feel like looking for the official Nanowrimo icon for 2008, so I’ve inserted a magician’s assistant.

Life is a series of compromises.

Reasons to be pessimistic about Nanowrimo, for which I have registered but cannot recall my login info:

  • no plot, characters, genre, or other details in mind
  • leaked way too much mojo last time
  • it’s kind of a silly thing to do

Reasons to be optimistic about doing it:

  • it’s all in good fun
  • it will make me look busy at work
  • I will think of something
  • when it’s over, you have a manuscript of some sort

Sometimes when I write, it’s this sort of automatic writing thing, where all I need is a blank page and a relaxed mind, or maybe a word or two or three, and the story writes itself, or I just write down what the characters say, but often a real straitjacket of strict rules helps.

In case I find myself in the latter situation, you are cordially invited to contribute rules of your design in the comments, which I do not promise to, but might, apply, and for which I would be grateful.

The story starts when the protagonist opens a lost diplomat’s email

Pew-pew-pew! Lasers! Pew-pew-pew!

Nanowrimo. On the one hand.

But, on the other hand.

Who knows?

I’m tempted.

I have this mental image of a rusty bus overgrown with blackberries, being jumpstarted by kids plugging half a mile of stolen extension cords into a socket at a dialysis center.

Who knows?

I googled “plot generators”.

Castles are popular.

In her new book, “How to be an explorer of the world,” Keri Smith mentions a meditation exercise used by Leonard, which involves imagining being Leonard Cohen. What exactly would he have to do?