The End of NaNoWriMo

So, my dear blog readers, National Novel Writing Month is over.
I didn't finish my novel, but I made it to 33,644 words in 30 days. That comes out to almost 80 pages, which is more than I've ever written in my whole life -- On all my stories put together! It was such a good experience and despite being stressful at times, I would recommend it to anyone who's ever wanted to write anything but can't just seem to get going. That was mostly my problem before, I would mull over my ideas, and say "Ok, I'll write a chapter tomorrow," but it would never happen because not everything would be outlined for me. For my novel in November, I had an outline at the beginning, but I was making up the actual meat of the chapters as I went along. That worked okay until I realized that my story was going to finish before I hit 50,000 words. To compensate, I just made up another character and dragged the story along in a completely different direction, which worked all right until I figured out that I had no clue where the plot was going to go. I kept making stuff up, and the plot got more and more ridiculous and unbelievable until I finally came to the conclusion that I was out of ideas completely. I stopped writing with three days to go. I had already been slowing down on my recommended number of words to type every day, and I had missed some days and gotten a little behind, so my goal was to make it to 40,000, but that wasn't to be.
Despite the struggles of lack of a good plot and the fact that all my chapters were kind of crappy, I had fun writing the first part of my strange, strange, novel. It's such a good feeling to be able to know that I hit almost 80 pages in something I made up and wrote completely on my own. I'm looking forward to taking a break from that story, however. The characters, sad to say, are boring me and I need to write something else for a while! I currently have a new story that I'm in the process of figuring out. It's there in my head somewhere, I just need to find it, dust it off, and try it on for size. I may need to make a few adjustments along the way, but that's all part of the fun.
I had some friends that were also doing National Novel Writing Month. Two of them finished, and I'm happy for them. I'll do it next year! (With a more detailed plot and a backup plan.)
My NaNoWriMo was a success in my book. I might not have crossed the finish line according to their guidelines, but I sure did for me.
:)


Story


Quote of the day:
"We are what we believe we are."
-C.S. Lewis

NaNoWriMo!

GOODNESS! It's been a while since I posted last. Well, I'm here again to let you know about an upcoming project that I'm going to start, and to ask you to join me!
It's called "National Novel Writing Month" (NaNoWriMo), and it is exactly that: A month where you write a 50,000-word novel. Yes, a novel in ONE MONTH, from November 1st through the 30th. Don't think you can do it? Well, neither do I, but you get brownie points for trying! Honestly though, it's a doable goal, believe it or not. Well, that's what the website says. I suggest you check it out and join me in conquering something we all should experience in our lifetimes!
The website (url included at the end of this post) says that the novel you write will be 175 pages (or thereabouts) of kind-of-awful-quality-writing, but what else do you expect what with writing 1600+ words everyday? You need to rush in order to get the novel finished (and get a sweet certificate and your name on the winner's page), so don't expect it to be anywhere close to perfect, just go with it and celebrate on November 30th!

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

On another note, I currently have a song stuck in my head that I've been singing for the past few days and I think I should let you know about it... it's called "The Saga Begins" by Weird Al. It makes me laugh and I love it so much...you should check it out if you haven't already. ^^

Peace Love and Tacos,
Story

Sparrow

This a piece that I wrote for my online writing class. It's a prologue/introducing character/introducing the setting thing. Yup...hope you enjoy :)

Sparrow stretched out on the ground and closed her bright green eyes, trying to relax. She heard a twig snap behind her and shot up quickly, her body tensing, ready to run. She surveyed the dense forest around her, searching for the source of the sound. It was middle October, and many of the leaves had fallen from the tall trees around her, making it easier to see -- and be seen.

After scanning her area with a practiced eye, Sparrow caught sight of a squirrel holding an acorn a yard or so away from her. It cocked its head at her, as though puzzled as to how she got so close to him without him realizing it. After a short pause, the squirrel went on with his business of finding a place to store his provisions, and Sparrow breathed a sigh of relief and tugged her gray jacket more tightly around her settling down silently on the forest floor.

She lay on her back, looking at the October sky, her bright orange hair spread out around her head, almost matching the leaves she used as a pillow. The sky was the clearest and brightest blue of any other time of the year, and she smiled as she watched the puffy white clouds drift by over her head. She wore a different smile at this moment than she usually did; one of contentment, rather than triumph or spite.

Her tranquility was short-lived, however.

A short while later, after Sparrow had allowed herself to fall into a light sleep she was abruptly awakened by familiar sounds. Unwelcome sounds. Large footsteps marched through the forest, snapping branches and crunching leaves. The ominous men that made the sounds didn’t try to keep their tones quiet as their gruff voices called out words that Sparrow didn’t care to make sense of.

The now-familiar feeling of fear welled up in Sparrow’s stomach. She hated the feeling more than anything else, and tried to push it away as she jumped up from her position on the forest floor and sprinted as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the voices.

She expertly dodged tree branches and jumped over logs and ditches without once slowing down. The forest walls became a blur of brown, orange and green and she continued, aware all the while that she was being followed closely by her pursuers.

She began to grow tired as she reached the edge of the forest. She slowed slightly as she pushed through the undergrowth. She had come to a meadow; there was no place to hide here. Sparrow slowed to a full stop, completely out of energy. Her slight body was shaking with exertion as she inwardly cursed herself for running in a blind panic without even a plan of where to go.

Behind her, the sounds of her hunters drew nearer, and she didn’t try to run. There was no escaping them now, and she would face them bravely. She turned around and watched as out of the forest came two large, dark-haired men. One of them was holding a cage, and the other reached forward swiftly and grabbed Sparrow’s thin arm. She tried wriggling free in a last ditch attempt to escape her captors, but the men just laughed at her attempts.

“Here’s a birdcage for the little sparrow!” One of them joked as he shoved her inside in the cage, designed for a large dog. Her tattered blue jeans caught on the rusty metal, and she just managed to tug herself free as the other man laughed locked her inside. The two men lifted her cage easily and began the long trek back the way they had come.

Sparrow didn’t cry as the trapped feeling began to close in on her again. All she felt was raw disappointment and rage and she watched what she thought was her last safe-haven disappearing slowly before her eyes.

Excerpt from a story

This is a piece of dialogue from a story that I'm planning to start writing, but haven't yet...except for this! It's a fanfiction for the TV show "Unnatural History".

“I don’t mean to go all Velma on you here, Henry, but I can’t see anything. We really need to find my glasses.” Leila said, as she leaned closer to him and squinted her eyes in order to see his expression. Henry stared back blankly.

“Velma who?” He asked confusedly.

“Velma. You know, from Scooby-Doo?”

“Ummm….?” He shrugged.

“The cartoon about the four kids who solve mysteries, and the talking dog? Ruh-Roh, Renry!” Leila did her best Scooby impression and waited for Henry’s reaction.

He chuckled. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Leila gave up all hope of him knowing what Scooby-Doo was and explained: “Velma is this girl on the show who wears glasses, and in just about every episode she loses them at some point and crawls on the floor – much like we’re doing know – and says ‘Oh no! My glasses! I can’t see a thing without my glasses!’” Leila paused for a breath and finished. “She’s also really smart and wears some killer knee-socks, but that’s beside the point.”

Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement. “I see. So you really can’t see anything?”

 Leila shook her head. “I’m blind as a bat.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He lifted his hand.

Leila squinted towards him again. “I’d say anywhere from seven to fourteen.”

“I’m only holding up one hand.”

“Yup.”

Henry shook his head, and the two went back to searching. Leila slid her fingers across the floor, feeling around for her black frames. Half a minute later, Henry spotted them underneath a chestnut desk pushed against the wall.

“Got them!” He said as he reached under and pulled them out. He blew off a dust bunny and handed them back to Leila, who hurriedly put them on her face.

“Yes, I can see again!” She said, her hazel eyes focusing on Henry through the rectangular frames. “Thanks, Henry.”

“No problem, but I think we should get out of here. The museum closes in…” He checked his watch. “Thirty seconds ago.”

“Oh jeeze, do you think we’re stuck in here again?” Leila’s eyes widened with apprehension at the thought of being trapped inside the museum.

“No, Maggie said the Board did away with all the fancy technology after that computer almost got stolen,” Henry said, as the two made their way through the various exhibits toward the exit. “I think we’ll be able to get a guard to let us out.”

“As long as he doesn’t think we’re stealing anything,” Leila added. “But I’m pretty sure they all know us by now.”

What does it mean to be a writer?

This is a freewrite that I did for my writing class. To freewrite, you just set a timer for 10 minutes and write anything that comes into your  mind. It is just a rough draft and I didn't do anything to it except spell-check.

9-21-10

Freewrite

What does it mean to be a writer?

I grab my book and pencils and clutch them to my chest. I turn around and march resolutely upstairs, a determined look on my face. I’m going to face it. Confront it. Writing. It’s a difficult process, getting things to come out the way they are in my mind. It all seems to clear up there, but when I finally take time to put pencil to paper or fingers to keys, I hit a bump in the road. Where do I start? I have a great idea for the climax, the last paragraph or even a character nickname! But do I start with those things, or do I begin at the beginning? My head is spinning. “Once upon a time…” No, far overused. But I like it. So why shouldn’t I use it? Writing should be something that I choose for myself, and I shouldn’t be pressured pr intimidated by others. Sometimes I feel that way. I’m sure all writers do at times. Like for instance, I’m not too good at using fancy words to describe beautiful places in my head. I prefer the personal sound and emotions of writing in 1^st person. I would love to be able to make up a beautiful tale on the spot, but it doesn’t work that way for me. Right now, being a writer for me at least means practicing. But not giving up. So what if my thoughts seem a little jumbled at times and I can’t find the right words to describe something. I just need to be free with what I do. It will come. Imagination. I have plenty of it, let me tell you. I’m never bored--ever! Wherever I am, my mind is there also. And with my mind comes my fantasy world. I would love to write down everything in there and turn it into an epic tale of twists and turns, deep characters and intricate twisting plots, but I’m not there yet, it’s still all just bits and pieces right now. I believe I have potential--we all do. Everyone does. But I need to release mine. I need to release all inhibitions. That’s what it means to be a writer: being free. Free to just scribble random words down. Draw sketches of characters even though the only thing I have in my mind is their looks. Don’t worry about it. It’ll come. Drift off, daydream, muse. I think about the world around me. How could I make it different? Should I just abandon this world and make a new one? I close my notebook and pick up my pencils. Holding them close once again, I step lightly down the stairs, a triumphant smile on my face. Sure I didn’t write a novel, but I started with one of my dreams and worked off it. I made progress. Hey, maybe I’ll get the hang of it someday. Because that’s what it means to be a writer: dreaming of the impossible and letting go.

Project 365

There is a project that I heard about a while ago, that I thought would be a cool thing to start. So, I'm going to share it with you. It's called Project 365 and it involves taking photographs. Lots of them.

Project 365 was started by a guy named Taylor McKnight. It's all about measuring your life through photographs and being able to relive your year once you're done with it. The goal is to take a picture of something that represents what your day was about, or reminds you of what you did, everyday.

What you need to accomplish this task is, most importantly, a camera. You always need to take it with you, wherever you go, in case an photo opportunity comes up. Taking pics with your phone is a good way to do it too. You don't need to be an amazing photographer, just give it a shot and you won't regret it...or so I'm told. I'm planning to start doing it myself and I'll be sure to share my pics with you.

(here is a link for more info about that project ^^)

Something random to get this blog started!

Harry Potter Saved My Life

Ever since I was six years old, I've been reading the Harry Potter series. In these nine years since, I've found myself get quite attached to the characters, setting, and books themselves. They are most important to me because thanks to J.K. Rowling, I have been inspired to start writing myself.

Fred and George are my favorite characters!! ^^

I have always thoroughly enjoyed reading. I spend whatever free time I have curled up with a good book, oblivious to the world around me. I get so much joy from every book I read, and I thought that I would like to give some of that joy to others in my own words; through my own writing.

I first looked toward J.K. Rowling's books for ideas and began to write Harry Potter fanfiction. Fanfiction is about taking another author's story or characters and making up your own plot around it. Harry Potter, being the most popular category for the "books" section of fanfiction.net (as well as my favorite book series), seemed like a good place to start.

Though I only recently started writing HP fanfiction, it is clear that it is something that I can enjoy doing for the rest of my life.