Quick First Week Update – NaNomania

The first week isn’t technically over until after tomorrow, but my weekend is looking busy so I’m throwing this up now. The bad news is, I’m a tad bit behind. The threat of a head cold required a night of cold medicine intake which resulted in sleeping the night away. All of it. So, one slow night and one zero night means writing like a fiend tonight and tomorrow. I’d really like to at least be caught up before week two starts.

The good news is, I’m having a blast. Turns out, being able to tell yourself you don’t have time to second guess, and meaning it, works wonders. Can’t remember a minor name you used 12 pages ago? Put [look back for name] and move on. Know that you need to add some info to the first two scenes to make the motivations clear? Make a mental note and keep those fingers going.

Talk about freedom!

I’m seeing parts of the story I’ve never been able to see before. Thinking of goals and motivation without wanting to jump out a window. And looking forward to having something substantial to revise. Crazy. I also wrote the most words in one night that I've ever done when 2000 words flowed onto the paper last night. I'm still wondering where all those words came from.

Would love to hear how everyone’s first week is going. Is the story writing itself? Are the characters running amuck? Anyone brought in an alien abduction just to spice things up? Fellow NaNoers want to know!

Amazingly Proud

Last week, we had our first parent/teacher conference of the school year. Kiddo is in fifth grade this year and I’m happy to report, this is her best year by far. Her teachers love her, she loves them, and other than getting off to a slow start, she’s doing very well. We started the meeting with one of her teachers reading me something Kiddo had written that day. It was so amazing I nearly cried. I’ve been waiting ever since to get a copy so I could proudly share it with all of you.

This short work was inspired by Dr. Seuss and I’m completely willing to admit, my daughter may turn out to be a better writer than I will ever be.

To Fly by Isabelle Osburn

I flutter and I flit, it’s time to leave my nest.
I say it’s time, but they won’t listen to me.
As I take my stance, ready to fly, the world is big,
But I can do it.
Colors and coral trees and flowers,
But as I say, it’s time, it’s time, it’s time.
I hear those words again and again.
I hear one voice, a voice that tells me great things.
“You will fly,” it tells me. “You will fly.”
The power of the Universe will help you,
The sun, the wind, the trees, and the sea will help you.

I jump off that nest and the voice was right,
I do fly, I do.

I think it's clear where I find my inspiration.

Letting LETTING GO Go

I know this title is confusing, but it’ll make sense in a minute. And for the record, this is a POSITIVE blog.

I received feedback on the first three chapters of my WIP this week, and the information was encouraging and enlightening. There were observations I’ve never heard before, which was great. And much of it confirmed issues I’ve been feeling but couldn’t pin down.

Imagine the opportunity to climb into the mind of a top editor, read their thought processes, understand what they’re looking for, and receive tips on how to achieve what it is you want to create. So many authors write in a bubble then submit, get rejected, and never really know why. I’ve been fortunate to learn now why I would be rejected and what I need that I’m missing.

What I’ve also figured out is that LETTING GO as it is now, the plot and conflict I’ve created, is not a viable story. At least not to be a Single Title Contemporary, which is what I want to write.

I’m not completely giving up on Bryan and Celi and I already have some ideas to transform the story. But for now, I’m moving on. I’ve had several story ideas pop into my head in the last couple years, all of which I’ve pushed to the back until I could finish this first WIP. It’s time to give those stories a chance.

I’m now plotting and developing a new story in preparation for NaNo. It’s set in a small town high school in Ohio (no resemblance to Glee) and comes ready-made with great built-in conflict. I’m excited about starting something new and look forward to making it shine.

Thank you to everyone who visits this blog and cheers me on in this crazy endeavor. And thank you for loving my characters and always having something sweet to say about my writing. As I always say, you can never have too much sunshine shot up your…tookus.

Your turn to share. Anything you’ve given up that you realized you should have let go of a long time ago? Ever have that liberating feeling? Anyone jumping into something new and exciting?

Honors and E-Readers and Company, Oh My!

I interrupt the progress report nature of this blog to throw a little life update into the mix.

This Saturday, I will don my black, tent-like cap & gown and join hundreds of other crazy adults to attend my college graduation ceremony. It has been nineteen years since I sported this get up, though the last time was bright yellow so this is exponentially better, and I'm still a little dazed. To add to my surreal state, I learned I'm graduating Magna Cum Laude. Upon reading those words on this little name card of mine, my first response was "What does that mean?!" I knew it was good, but I didn't know specifics.

My next response, upon learning the details, was "No freaking way." I have since progressed to "Ha!" And I'm ignoring the annoying inner critic in my head who keeps saying, "You know, if you'd tried a bit harder and not waited until the last minute to do everything, you could have reached Summa Cum Laude."

Bitch.

To mark this momentous occasion, my family is coming to visit. My ENTIRE family. None of them have ever seen my apartment. Neither of my brothers have ever even been to this city as long as I've lived here. My dad hasn't been here in over four years. This is a big deal. And I'm excited, but I'm also a little trepidatious. You see, these are not the happiest people on the planet. In fact, they're downright miserable and tend to bicker. And fight. A lot. It's not pretty.

But I'm looking forward to having them visit (partially because I've rented them an apartment for the weekend – cheaper than it sounds! – and I can still sleep in my own bed.) We're also celebrating Christmas while they're here, since I never sent presents home last December and I want this stuff out of my storage room. Presents always reduce cranky-pants behavior, right? Anyone?

In other awesome news, one of my bosses and another co-worker went in together and bought me a Sony Reader (that's exactly it to the left). Can you believe that? It's the touch screen one that reads to you. Seriously! I can plug in my headphones and relax to the robotically soothing sounds of a monotone love scene. Okay, I don't really know what it's going to sound like, but it's still cool. Now, to figure out a) how it works and b) where to find digital books that aren't priced stupidly high.

To tie in some writing news with this, I'm still waiting on the feedback from the writing coach, though she did say at first glance that it looked "hilarious". Her word. Can you believe it? Me neither. I mean, I kind of go for funny, but hilarious? That's just cool.

I also posted my first paragraph in Nathan Bransford's 3rd Sort-of-Annual Stupendously Ultimate First Paragraph Challenge. Coolest title for a contest ever. But then, I expect nothing less from the coolest man in the writing industry blogosphere. (I can't believe my Word did not mark blogosphere as misspelled. It didn't recognize trepidatious but got blogosphere?) While I'm writing this there are well over 2000 entries and still nearly five hours left to enter. I'm not holding my breath at all.

I am participating in NaNoWriMo though not in the traditional sense. I'm not about to start a book from scratch just to appease the rules over there, nor am I willing to figure out how to navigate that site. But I have made a deal with Hellion and we'll be doing it together. She hits the 50K mark, she'll finish the first draft. (Freaking show-off) If I hit the 50K mark, I'll be right around the black moment and that works for me.

So there you have it, what is going on in the life of aspiring-writer, slacker-extraordinaire Terri Osburn. If you think this is boring, you should have read the original post that included my new matching coffee table and end tables, and the exploits of my cat who in less than 24 hours managed to crawl inside my fridge and to the highest point in my closet, which is nearly seven feet off the ground. No idea how he accomplished either feat.

Anyone else doing NaNo?

You May Think It's Funny But It's Snot

I promised an update and I have been remiss. But I have a good excuse. I’ve spent the last three weeks revising the first three chapters of this WIP, and then last week I also needed to write the synopsis. The synopsis is what I was dreading. On the plus side, I had already loosely plotted the story, loosely being the key word. On the minus side, I still hadn’t completely settled on the black moment or how I was going to make the resolution believable.

But I’m happy to report, I did it (with the help of Anne Gracie!) and the black moment is awesome (if I do say so myself) and I’m super excited about writing the rest of this story. That could all change in a matter of days, but for now, I’m feeling good!

Now, to the snippet. So Celi and Bryan had another encounter in the bar (before drinks were had) and Bryan ended up stepping on Celi’s foot. For the record, once again, it was Celi’s fault. Not that she would admit that, stubborn child (don’t tell her I said that). Anyhoo, Celi was so fed up with how her weekend was going, she drank a few Amoretto Sours too many. Okay, like eight too many.

Bryan did not imbibe and has just arrived back home to find a surprise sitting against his door.

Balancing on the balls of his feet, he couldn’t decide what to do next. He had to let her know he was there, but he didn’t want to startle her. Gently, Bryan reached over and tapped her on the shoulder.

Without lifting her head, Celi said, “What?” So much for startling her.

“You’re in front of my door.”

“Wha-,” she started but as soon as she looked up, her arms flew up to cover her head and she started screaming. “Don’t hurt me, oh God, don’t hurt me.”

Taken by surprise, Bryan lost his balance and found himself sitting on the floor with her. “Would you calm down? I’m not going to hurt you. Why the hell would I hurt you?”

The crazy woman stopped her imitation of a banshee but refused to lower her arms. Peaking under her elbow she said, “Every time I’ve seen you in the last two days you’ve hurt me. First my hip when you almost ran me over, then my hip again when I ran into that ugly chair, and tonight when you stepped on my foot.” Taking one arm down to point to her foot she added, “I think you broke my toe.”

Bryan wanted to yell back. He wanted to tell her she was out of her mind and all those run-ins were her fault. But he couldn’t. She looked so sad and lost, and he was so tired. Tired of being angry.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I don’t even know you. What are you talking about, an ugly chair?

“This morning, when I walked out of my apartment, I nearly ran into that chair you were carrying and ended up landing on my ass. Again.” After wiping the tears from her eyes she reached her right hand inside her left sleeve and used it to blow her nose.

Bryan struggled to keep a straight face. “I had no idea. How about we start over?” Bryan thought about shaking her hand then remembered the nose blowing and kept his hands to himself. “My name’s Bryan.”

“Celi.”

“Sealy? Like the mattress?”

Going from sad and lost to angry and sarcastic in record time she said, “No, that’s my name. Celi. C-E-L-I. It’s short for Cecelia.”

“Well, Celi, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed.”

“I am not going to bed with you!” Celi punctuated her outrage by kicking him in the foot.
Just when he started thinking she might be sane. “I didn’t mean go to bed with you. Just to bed. In my own bed.” Before she could kick him again he clarified. “Alone.”

Celi crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Then go. Who’s stopping you?”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.” They sounded like four year olds and before she could keep the comedy skit going, he said, “You’re blocking my door.”

Celi looked behind her as if she’d forgotten where she was. When she turned back he raised his brows and waited for her to get up. He should have known it couldn’t be that easy.

“This is my door. Your door is over there,” and she pointed to the door behind him, her door.

Taking a deep breath then letting it out slowly, Bryan put every ounce of patience he had left into his next words. “That is your door.” Holding up a hand to cut off her argument he continued. “See, that door says 3A. The door you’re leaning on says 3D. You live in 3A, don’t you?”

Celi’s face went blank and Bryan worried she might be too drunk to know her own address. Then the dawn of enlightenment hit and her eyes became giant blue saucers. “That’s why the key wouldn’t work. I knew I had the right key.”

Basking in the joy of knowing she knew which key went to her front door, Celi didn’t seem in a hurry to get up. Leaving her out here started looking better and better.

“Do you think you could get up now? It’s late and I’m tired.”

Celi stopped celebrating with her keychain long enough to look into his eyes. “If you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed?”

Time for drinking stories. Ever been so drunk you couldn’t find your front door? Your street? Your hand in front of your face? Lets share!