That Which We Cannot Name

Yesterday I ate Christmas dinner. Twice. That itself may have been tiring, but it was the company that was most exhaustive. I’m an introvert; I can’t help but feel weighed down in large crowds.

Even if they are family.

Yet for all the anguish and agony, today I’m thankful for my family. Of course, I’m thankful for my family every day (or at least most days), but today I’m making something special of it.

Silent Night

The semester is over and all through the house, not a word is spoken, not even a shout. No pages are turned, no pencils are moved; no papers frantically ferried to professors behooved. Instead there is silence, a deep blanketing veil, a solemn rest now overcoming those students whispering, “Farewell.”

From their shoulders are lifted great burdensome weights, and tall and mighty now they stand and await. In days’ time, in weeks’ time, they’ll find peace at last; and once more, and once again then, classes will begin at first light. But now, now they rest, all wrapped up in bed, and tired and lonesome, no thoughts in their heads. In silence they slumber, in silence they wake, and through silence, to silence, their futures they make.

Truth and Recreation

I’ve written a lot lately. In fact, since my last post here I’ve written over 23,000 words–or the equivalent of approximately a month’s worth of posts, if we assume I post about twelve times a month and each of them are slightly less than two thousand words a piece. Then again, this is what I expect during NaNoWriMo: A lot of writing but not a lot of writing here. Or on school papers. I’m so glad they’re not due till December.

Lately I’ve also been hung up on saying “the truth is.” Well the truth is I don’t know why I’ve had this obsession, but I’m almost certain that the two might be related.

It’s what I like to call truth and recreation.

Chaos is Order

My intent was to keep a NaNoWriMo journal going.

November first. Tuesday. Busy at school all day. Didn’t write a word till the kick-off party–but we had such a great turn-out, it was awesome. So glad so many people showed up. It really made my day. I got just past two-thousand words. Reaching my daily goal made me happy.

But I missed Tuesday. And then I missed Wednesday. And then I missed Thursday. And then the weekend came and homework followed and I realized I still hadn’t even posted here. At all.

Imaginary Teammates

Tomorrow begins NaNoWriMo and this is an exceptional year for me: Not only is it my sixth consecutive year competing, it’s also my third and my last year as Municipal Liaison (or regional coordinator) of the North Carolina Triad region (formerly the Greensboro region). I have so many exciting things I want to get done, and one of them is continuing to build upon our sense of community. I know I’ll be leaving next year for Raleigh to finish my bachelor’s degree at NC State, but I want to leave our region thriving and strong.

One way I hope to accomplish this is through encouraging my fellow Wrimos to embrace their own inner potential–and my intent is to do this while teaching them how to unlock their characters’ hidden potential. This all sounds bright and lovely, and if I can tangibly create what I envision in my mind, this is going to be an incredible and stupendous year for our region and our writers.

Luckily for me, this year follows a lot of leadership development on my part, and although it’s hard to imagine how leadership training coincides with stronger writing, once the connection is clear, it’s an amazing revelation. See, leadership is all about interaction and direction–and what’s a story but a collection of character interaction and plot direction? A good character is a good leader, or if not, can be properly distinguished from one–and when the author can tell the difference, the possibilities expand exponentially and even endlessly.

This then is merely the first of hopefully many lessons, a short piece expanded upon from a recent email I sent out to my region. Nonetheless, the advice is worthwhile for any writer or any leader, and I hope no matter which you are, or even if you’re neither, you can find some worth in the words that follow.

Something About Driving: Stuck in Traffic

Time passed. I had every intent to write “Something About Driving” and finish it, but instead I got carried away, In Amarantis Sedicia, and never came back to it. Like that piece of creative nonfiction I mentioned, I wrote it, but then left it. Except here the story got clogged even before I got that far, coagulated in my throat and stopped moving.

At least frogs can hop out, you know? Clots just sit there till they kill you when you least expect it.

An End to Reflection

How fast time travels when we’re having fun, right?

So far most of the year has gone by in but two days of recollection–the ups and downs and loves lost and found and lost again, the trials and triumphs of dire courses and cross-country adventures, the happiness of new friends and the sorrow being away from friends inflicts every day. And yet, the year is not yet over.

NaNoh-no!

It’s about this time each year that I stay up at night, pacing, talking to myself about what just happened and unable to sleep, unable to go to bed without knowing–how will my story end?!

And every year I surprise myself.

NaNoMonday

The best part about NaNoWriMo is sometimes not knowing what to write at all. Especially at the write-ins. We’ll look up, stop writing for a moment, and ask odd questions such as: “I need a last name.” or “Is an angel saying ‘God dammit’ sacrilegious?” or “How do I write small talk?” And so on, so forth.

But at home, or anywhere when writing alone, sometimes you’ve just got to plow forward blindly. Having faith in yourself like this is oftentimes close to impossible. At least for me, I want to analyze and edit and make the story perfect. But I’ve got to take time to turn all this off and just go for it, let the characters walk themselves for a while, and simply witness the story evolve.

NaNoWriMonday

It’s National Novel Writing Monday!

Not quite. But it is–or until ten minutes ago at the time of writing this–the first Monday of National Novel Writing Month, or November for those unawares. And since the year 2006 I’ve been a dedicated participant and often find it’s one of the few things I do truly for myself, and mine self only.

The story of my Wrimo-ing is purely coincidental. I was on a writer’s forum for Neopian Times writers (who write for the Neopian Times, a subset of the Neopets virtual pet site, which contrary to popular belief, is not just for children), and it came up in conversation about writing novels this thing called NaNoWriMo. I was intrigued.