That’s right. Three days remaining. I am participating in NaNoWriMo this year, hoping for a win. At the end of November I plan to have the first draft of my first novel complete. This is something I’ve been wanting to do for so long, and waiting to have the time to do it. Well, that never happens. It seems that in some cases Yoda was right. There is no try. All the try in the world has gotten me up to, but not past, the Prologue. Now I’m doing it. Hoping for encouragement, patience, and a steadfast hope that I can meet my goal – 50,000 words in one month. 1,667 per day. A complete story, even if it is a little rough. So, if you don’t hear from me much for the month of November, rest assured that I most likely *did* fall off the edge of this world, into one of my own creation.
I dropped off my son to preschool the other day (well, I do that every day, but this story is about the other day, and, well, moving along…). After he washed his hands he was having a hard time getting the paper towel from the dispenser to dry off. I offered to help him, but he insisted on doing it himself. One of the moms made the comment, “They think they’re so big at this age.” I didn’t say anything to her, but these are my thoughts:
Why tell him that he’s not big, and that there are things he can’t do?
There is no limit to what he can do, or who he can be.
Just because I’m ‘big’ doesn’t give me the right to make him little.
He is going to accomplish things simply because he was never informed by the learned that they were impossible.
Fifteen years ago today was a Sunday. Not just any Sunday. It was THE Sunday. I stepped out and boldly invited myself to a Superbowl party that my friend had been invited to. It seemed at the time to be an insignificant decision, but it was one that would completely change the direction of my life. That tends to happen when you meet The One. Despite her being annoyed at my audacity to just show up, by continuing to do so, within a few short months we were in love, a year later engaged, and in anther three, married. This has been an amazing journey, which I wouldn’t trade for anything. It really gets better every day. Here’s to the next 15.
Because the title ‘Blogging for Great Justice’ was not only misleading, but just a bit too epic. Speaking of epic, I have decided to write a novel. Well, I decided to do it about a year ago, but now I have actually started writing it. I don’t necessarily intend for it to actually be *epic*, but I do expect it to at least be grand in scale. If it turns out to be epic, then so be it.
My secondary decision is to blog about it, or just to blog in general. It takes me a long time to write. I’ve spent this past year relearning how to type, so that part isn’t too bad. I shudder at the thought of spending the entire time of writing a novel looking down at the keyboard. No, the slow process for me is creation. I’ve never considered myself a very good storyteller, and I’m not that great at being quick and thinking on the fly (what does that phrase even mean?). Couple that with a fair amount of perfectionism – yes, I’m working on that – and you’ve delved to entirely new depths of writer’s block.
So that brings me here, to this blog. I need the practice. I need to get stuff out and not worry about how it sounds and learn to revise it later. To me this is a very safe place to do just that. As for the storytelling thing - well, I’m just going to do my best, take it slow, and trust that I will get there. I have this concept for a story that I just can’t shake, and I really feel like it could be so much bigger and impact people more than I allow myself to believe I am capable of.
Now that I’ve built it up… I’m not ready to release any details yet, even the genre (I thought I would, but decided against it – that’s interesting). Perhaps in the future once I get the basic arc nailed down I will invite some beta readers to provide some feedback – after passing through a very stringent application process of course, that may or may not involve beer. .-)
Maybe in the meantime, for even Greater Practice, I will try my hand at some short stories and post them directly to the blog for all to enjoy.
They way I look at it – every single person has a purpose in this life that is unique to, and for, them and no other. Regardless of any (yes, any) circumstance, that purpose is possible and attainable, but it takes choosing. Deliberate choice can be hard. I love the line from “Where the Red Fern Grows” – “I don’t want character, I want a puppy.” The process of getting himself what he wanted was exactly what built that character.
Introduced Noah to the Fibonacci Sequence the other night.
“Here’s a pattern. Write the number 1, then make the next number the sum of the previous two.”
“But there is only one number.”
“So what’s one plus nothing?”
“Oh, ok.” 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 “Hey, this isn’t a pattern.”
“What’s the next number?”
“If it’s not a pattern then how did you know?” <EvilGrin> He looks at me as if to say, “Smartypants.” So he goes to 144 and decides to stop because “this is gonna get big really fast.” <proud dad>
So then I have him draw a square. Then a square next to it.
“Now draw one here at this edge. Now at this edge. Now here. How many squares wide is this one?”
He writes a 1 in the first one, then in the second, then 2, 3.
“Are these numbers familiar?”
“Draw another one.”
“How about now?”
“Well, I’m 8, and Liam is 1.”
“13. 21. 34. 55.” !!! “Hey, that’s the same pattern! You’re tricky!”
Of course it lead to a nice little Google image search episode to see the original pattern and some examples of FibSeq in nature. Next I’ll show him some architectural applications of the Golden Ratio, then on to the Mandelbrot Set. Train a child up in the way he should go, and all that jazz. .-)
Miss ya, Dad. Wish we could play another round of darts. Take another road trip. Wish I’d had a chance to sit and have a beer and smoke a pipe with you. Hear about your time in the war. Know who you were when you were a kid. When I was a kid. Share another bowl of clam chowder. Learn an off-color joke or song. Learn something obscure, archaic or arcane. Discuss sci-fi. Play with fireworks and frisbees. I miss your humor. I miss your unconditional love and acceptance. I miss your passion. I miss you.