25 years young and Nano Wrimo 2010

I had an excellent birthday last week. I got up at 9:00am (on a Saturday!!!) and went to breakfast with my Meggie. My sister made me a beautiful cake. I got a snuggie and many other very fun things, and had fun just hanging out with my family.

That night, I went out to dinner with (most of) the fam-dam. The main conversational themes were: near death experiences (apparently, we are a dangerous bunch) and our weirdest/most memorable dreams. When we get together and start re-telling our favorite memories and stories, we just can't stop. We definitely took pictures, but I have no idea whose camera they are on. When I find them, I'll put them up.

ALSO!

I have probably mentioned this to quite a few of you (ok, probably all of you) already. November is National Novel Writing Month, and I am participating for the first time!

I have stalked NaNoWriMo for the past 2 years, just to get tips and tricks on writing, but never thought I'd participate. It is such a cool experiment in creativity. Also - it is ok if my little story totally sucks! Its about word count, baby.

At first when I decided I was going to participate, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone. I don't know why. I think I was embarrassed, and worried that people would think I had deluded myself into believing I was a 'real' author, so I was going to write a 'real' book and get it published. I'm definitely not. I'm using it as an exercise in creativity, but nothing beyond that.

Whenever I read authors say that 'they are their own worst critic,' I want to say, "Ho-hum. How humble and gracious of you. You can't possibly mean it that you are literally your own worst critic."

I totally get it now.

My characters are flat. My plotline? Weird and improbable. The dialogue is cringe-worthy. The worst, though, is when I'm especially impressed with how awesome a certain plot point or character development or narrating technique is and I scribble it down at work in between calls thinking to myself, 'Oh my gosh. I am so clever and imaginative.' Then when I get home and type it onto the computer screen, the stupidity of it reaches out and slaps me across the face and it takes all of my willpower not to erase it. That, however is the beauty of writing where quantity matters more than quality. I am temporarily banning my inner editor.

And who knows? Maybe some of the things I currently find laughable and shamefully dumb may turn out to be kind of clever, or at least interesting, when I go back through it all to edit. Knowing that kind of unlocks all of the ability to imagine and be creative, because I'm allow myself to ignore that annoying little voice in the back of my head that tells me my ideas are stupid. That voice kind of deserves to get shut up.

So...

I'm writing a novel.