Caterwauling

I wrote the prologue of my NaNo novel. I like to believe I’m brilliant under pressure, but I may be reconsidering that line of thinking.

It’s cool, in a way, though. I never finished last year’s novel, so I decided to pick up with the same characters, but a year down the road. And while I suck at plot development, I am better-than-mediocre at exposition. So, right now, I get to encapsulate all the shit I was supposed to put my characters through, but in just a few paragraphs. Muse help me when I have to start writing real action scenes.

1,000 words and counting. And trying to find the time for this? A way bigger challenge than writing coherent, cohesive thoughts.

I echo the thoughts of one of my writing buddies: “It’s gonna be a long month.”

Gorgeous line, Pat Conroy. Now do you think I could write something like that?

*tapping on head*

“Come on, ideas. Shake out.”

*tapping harder*

“Nothing? Oh, come ON now.”

*bangs head against wall*

“Seriously, that ought to shake SOMETHING out.”

*a thought starts to stir!*

“Ibuprofen? That’s all you can say? Brain, what am I going to do with you?”

*torrent of thoughts dumps into my conscious — I’m too overwhelmed to even think to grab a pen*

*conscious smiles slyly*

I sigh.

“OK, Muse. Next time I ask, I’ll be near my computer. ”

Dear Muse — the ideas? Thanks for them. Now to see if they’ll hold till I get home. And seriously, you want me to make her do WHAT with WHOM?!?! Shame on you, you cheap whore! I mean, lovely Muse. Lovely, lovely Muse. I will indulge you, then, as long as the thoughts actually start to make sense at some point. Love, Moi.

November — a month when it’s perfectly acceptable to have schizophrenia. 🙂