My plan is to give myself a week after the wedding, and then jump back in. I miss it. I miss using my imagination for something other than wedding plans. The ideas are churning once more, but my brain can’t focus on them now. All I see are details, colors, and coordination. That being said, I plan to write my next blog on: 10.22.11. Look for it, and thanks for reading!

I’ve done a lot of thinking today though. I went to B&N and found all of my favorite childhood stories. I sat down on the floor of the children’s section pawing through them with the book on one knee and a notepad on the other. I want to write stories. I want to use my imagination. I have to. So, I am actually going to take the advice of the many books I’ve read on writing and just write. I’m going to sit down everyday and write SOMETHING. Even if it’s just a journal entry (which I need to do regularly anyway). The only way I’ll ever really think of myself as a writer is if I do it on a regular basis, and I produce finished works from that act. I don’t care if they’re crap. I’m in a horrible rut though, and it’s time to dig myself out, one word at a time.

It doesn’t matter where it happened though. In one month, I still wrote a novel. It definitely didn’t turn out the way I planned. My head was thinking fantasy, my heart was thinking romance, my characters thought otherwise. Given, there is still romance, but it was a romance I didn’t expect. You see, Autumn, my main character, is so utterly romantic, that she fantasizes about the boys in her class, but never acts on her feelings. She so desires to have that feeling of passionate love, yet she isn’t brave enough to move past a crush (or two or ten). She does find herself, slowly, getting herself into trouble along the way. It all ends well though. She finds her happy medium, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and I couldn’t be prouder of her. I’ve had thoughts of writing a sequel of sorts, and I would love to star Miss Autumn in the story, but I feel she’s found her way enough that there might not be enough drama for a sequel. I can’t really know for sure though. I suppose if she wants to be in another story, she will be.

I also suppose I sound like a crazy person, but for the first time in my life, my characters are real. Not in the sense that they’re in my head talking to me, but rather, they’re in my heart and they’re real in the creative part of my brain, my subconscious. I find that a lot of my inspiration comes to me in my dreams. I think that’s where the creative juices are stored. If I could only find a way to inject them into my bloodstream or something. Ha!

In all seriousness though, this has been an amazing experience for me. I was really questioning myself as a writer before NaNoWriMo came into my life. It’s just a silly “competition,” but it has done more for me than I can ever say. I’ve actually written something. Sure it was difficult, trying to catch up and writing 5,000 or more words in a day, but I found a way to make writing make sense in my life. It’s not about the page count, it’s the word count. It’s the words that make the story worth writing and hopefully one day, worth reading.

Now, if I could only find a title…

Here are some excerpts from different parts of the book:

Autumn never wanted to be herself. She didn’t like her dull, weird hair, or her B.O.Ts a.k.a. Boobs of Terror, as she liked to call them. She longed to be beautiful and popular…and loved.
Her crushes and desires to have a boyfriend only worsened as she became older. If any of the guys in her class took notice of her, she stole it and ran with it. The diary entries continued, filled with pages of desperate sentiments of longing.

Dear Journal,

Why do I go so crazy over cute guys?? Why doesn’t anyone want to be with me? Guys like big boobs right? I’m humongous! So what’s the deal? Doesn’t that give me some kind of noticeable quality?
P.S…Matt looked at me today in Study Hall.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Autumn, now walking down the hallway at school, her long, brilliantly shiny red hair swaying back and forth and blowing in the wind, walked directly towards Matt. His mouth gaped open as she strutted down the hall in her new red heels. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, and she was basking in the moment.

“Hey there,” said Autumn, brushing past him and turning around so Matt could absorb all of her.

***

The drive home was a quiet one. She didn’t want to hear anything except the wind blowing by. Autumn rolled down her windows and let the breeze caress her face. She always liked driving with the windows down. It was freeing, in a sense, to be part of the wind. She loved to drive that way on the interstate, because she felt like she was flying.
“This is so wonderful. I feel more at home and at peace like this than I do in that stuffy church. That can’t be right,” she thought. “Why don’t I get into church the way everyone else does? Why am I different?” She stuck her arm out the window, letting the wind push against her hand. She made a swimming motion, feeling the breeze intertwine with her fingers. It wasn’t too cold yet for her to roll up the windows.

***

Autumn took another deep breath, closing her eyes and listening to the sounds of the waves softly rolling against the shore. Then there was another sound, like someone running. She opened her eyes, and she saw…him. He was tan, golden from the sunset on his bare, glistening skin. His shaggy blond hair flowed behind him, bouncing slightly with every step. Autumn could see that he wore simple red shorts and gray tennis shoes, as he got closer. She tried to focus on her book, but it was impossible. He was too perfect. Autumn wondered if Hercules might have looked like this wonder of a man. He looked to be about her age, but she couldn’t be sure, nor did she care.

***

Autumn smiled at her and went to change into her yoga pants and a t-shirt. She sat Indian style and laid her hands on her knees. She closed her eyes, hearing nothing but the sound of buzzing from Jim. Autumn began to visualize the ocean the day she sat in front of it, watching the sunrise. She saw the waves slowly brushing the shore. Then she heard them, crashing against each other from a distance. The sound became louder as the waves grew larger. She saw the sun peeking over the ocean, beginning to shed it’s golden rays on the now sparkling water. Then Autumn smelled the salt.

This has really been an amazing experience, and I’m sure those who are presently or have participated before will tell you the same. I’ve always had trouble chaining myself to a desk, writing everyday, like it was a boring cubicle job, not unlike the movie “Office Space.” Luckily, I didn’t have any Lumbergs hovering over my shoulder though.

Things have changed though. I believe the reason I didn’t write everyday is because I didn’t want to write everyday. I wasn’t passionate about the projects I was starting (and never finishing). This book has given me a new chance and a new outlook. I’m excited to find out what is going to happen to my main character, despite having a rough outline. She always seems to do what she wants. Plus, a hero appeared in my story, and I never even dreamt of having him in there. He just showed up! That’s the beauty of writing novels I think. I have realized that I am a detail kind of person, and I like to explore blank pages with my words. You can’t do that when you’re writing picture books, or even middle grades. Well, not as much. I think Young Adult may be my gateway to the writing world. It feels right, and for the first time since I began writing, I want to sit down at that desk…chain free.

I’m mildly worried that the story is progressing to fast, because I’m going back into the chapters I have already written and adding content. It’s really difficult for me to write outside of the timeline of the story. If something needs to be reworked, it’s most likely in the same chapter, making it nothing to fret over. I just hope I don’t get to the end of the story and have nothing left to write while I’m still 20,000 words short or something.

That being said, it’s exciting to watch a story take form, even if it only contains 10,000 words. I’m beginning to really see my protagonist, a young girl, much like myself at 17, desperately longing to be loved. It sounds completely cheesy, but it’s also completely true. Every girl has these feelings, and guys too. Only, it doesn’t end when we’re out of our dorky teenage years, does it? At that age, we all believe we will become different people who will eventually have all the answers, but we never do, and we never stop looking for love and appreciation and respect. It’s a universal human truth that cannot be ignored, no matter how hard we try. Inside, I think we all still feel like we’re 17 sometimes, but I think that’s ok. It’s what keeps us humble and young at heart. And for we writers, it’s what keeps us thinking.

I’m beginning to really love this character, and the teenager within as well. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

©www.inkygirl.com

How does one figure out where one’s story is supposed to be set? I understand that part of that could be inspired, but I don’t get inspired to write about places. I’m inspired by the characters and their situations. So how do you figure out the proper setting for a story?

I’m thinking about my NaNo story. I could set it in Tennessee where I grew up, or I could set it where I’m living now. Neither of those options appeal to me however. Should I just make up a city? I suppose there are a lot of ways I could do this, but I want the setting  to “feel right,” if that makes sense. I want to identify with the place and time, so it would make sense to put my character somewhere that I can work with. Those choices just seem so…blah. That is the only way I can think to describe them. Not that I don’t like either of those cities. I adore them, but I don’t want to put them in this book. What’s a girl to do?

I even found a site, as I was looking up popular names from 1998, that would tell the popularity of those names in that state. I could use that method. I just don’t know. I’m stuck. I don’t want to set it in a popular city like New York, L.A., etc. I just want to find a city that clicks with my character and with me. Is that too much to ask?

I’m a little scared, to be honest. At the same time, though, there is an element of excitement and adventure. Sure it might be hard and a few tears might be shed on account of this novel, but it might be good for me. One might even call it therapeutic. I don’t have much time to ponder and come up with another idea. November 1st is only 9 days away! So do I come up with some generic idea that I could simply spat out of my system, or do I write something from the soul, something that might touch others besides myself? I think the latter reflects my decision.

Writing isn’t about making money. It’s an art form, produced from the mangled mass of the human soul. That’s why people invest in it. We’re all looking for answers and for meaning in our lives. Stories can evoke such painfully wonderful memories and feelings. It would be a shame to keep them pent-up.

“Sharing our stories can also be a means of healing. Grief and loss may isolate us, and anger may alienate us. Shared with others, these emotions can be powerfully uniting, as we see that we are not alone, and realize that others weep with us.”
~Susan Wittig Albert

I sat in Barnes and Noble today and created an extremely rough outline of what I though I might be writing. It took me days to figure out what I wanted to do in the first place. I’m super excited to actually have it on paper. I still have until November 1st to plan things out a little better so I won’t be wasting time researching when I could be writing. The goal is to write 50,000 words by midnight on November 30th. Craziness, I know. I’m really excited about it though.

I think the experience is going to be a great one, although my boyfriend may say otherwise…I’m going to be in my little loft space for the majority of November. Although, I’ve broken it down to 6 pages a day, which is really like a high school essay a day. That’s not so bad. Plus, I can let my imagination run wild without thoughts of revision. It’s the quantity that counts, not the quality. Product first, then revision. I hope I can get through it with that mentality. I tend to revise as I go, a habit I’ll need to break.

Wish me writer’s luck!

©www.michaelrex.com

Goodnight Goon is a delight to read, parodying the classic story Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown and Clement Hurd. Upon opening the first page, you’re immediately struck by an eerie gooey green color combined with adorably creepy illustrations. Thinking back to the classic, peaceful, lulling words of Goodnight Moon, Goodnight Goon is very humorous all the way through. Rex follows the original story really well, delighting the reader with the same lovely rhymes that you would be used to hearing from the original. This story however might not be the best pick for bedtime as it will keep you laughing from page one until the very end.

Rex’s illustrations are wonderful with little bits of humor weaved into the obviously funny big picture images. Keep an eye out for things that might have found their way into a few creature’s hands and mouths. Goodnight Goon is definitely one to have in the library, even if it’s only brought out for the                                                                                                                             holidays.

Another holiday choice to ponder might be Miss Fiona’s Stupendous Pumpkin Pies. This is a fairly charming picture book, although it might not be considered one to remember. Published by a branch of Guideposts, there isn’t any description of the author or the illustrator which makes the story seem a little generic. All in all though, it is a cute Halloween story about an old, well-known neighbor who makes magical pumpkin pies every year for the holiday. Upon reading it, there are a couple times in the middle of the story where one might think the story would take a different turn, but the ending reveals something different. There is a hint of wanting  once the reader reaches the end, as if the story needed a little extra something.

© www.idealsbooks.com

The illustrations for this book, done by Karen Hillard Crouch, are very quaint and cute, giving it a “feel-good” Halloween vibe. It is refreshing to hear a witch story that is warm and homey in a sense, rather than the evil, mean witch shown in other stories of the season, and the illustrations demonstrate that idea.  Miss Fiona’s Stupendous Pumpkin Pies is a cute story, but it isn’t quite as magical as her pumpkin pies seem to be.