NaNoWriMo T-minus 9 days!

We have nine days until the beginning of NaNo and I am frantically running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I have been somewhat successful in planning so far, but I'm afraid that I'm going to run out of time and/or steam. I think I'm focusing too much on the details. As I'm writing out my scene outlines, I'm trying to get out as much detail as possible so 1) I can breeze right through it come November and 2) so I can remember it all.

Hopefully I'll get it all together. I'll be blogging (mostly) everyday again this year. Here's to the first November win in three years! Hopefully.

NaNo plotting

I'm currently at Starbucks with some members of Wicked Wordsmiths of the West plotting our NaNo novels. I think I've got some good ideas and finally a conflict. And a subplot. Progress!

I'm back for reals this time....

So the wedding has been had and I've had some time to decompress from it all. Being married doesn't feel any different than our relationship has been for the past three years. But it is kind of fun to be able to call him my husband. :-P

So NaNoWriMo starts back up in less than a month. I plan on participating and hoping for a win this November. I'll be posting my progress, which will probably be me complaining that I'm behind in word count. But it's okay. I'm hoping to get about 2000 words a day. This is more even than the 1667 they suggest, but I'm hoping to get ahead of myself so when those days do happen where I don't want to do anything *cough my birthday cough*, it won't be so devastating.

I do have a working title for my 2013 NaNo novel, and that's something to be excited about. It's called Behind the Lines. It's YA (of course) and the main character is Mari Breckenridge. I look forward to writing it in November.

Names

So I'm sitting at Starbucks and a random thought came to my head: how do I want my name to be printed? I have a few options with just my real name alone.

Last year for NaNo when I actually made a cover for my novel, I put myself as S. Elizabeth Davis. Currently, I'm not feeling it. Like at all. I don't think it flows the way I want it to or originally thought.

And I'm definitely for sure wanting to use my married name because I hate my maiden name with a fiery passion and can't want to legally change it next month. (23 DAYS!).

I've been thinking something like Sarah Davis or Sarah E. Davis. Simple. And I need simplicity in my life. I've never, ever thought of using a pen name.

Okay, so I just Googled both "Sarah Davis" and "Sarah E. Davis". Apparently "Sarah Davis" is a children's author in Australia. Well, that's the end of that one.

I also have the option to use "Sarah B. Davis". (The B standing for my maiden name.)

I know this is a silly thing to worry about something so simple as a name, but names are very important to me. I take extra care when naming a character, so why not take the extra care while naming myself. This would be something that I would be stuck with, so I have to make sure I like it.

I have asked the future husband. He seems to like Sarah E. Davis. Though he doesn't seem to care either way. So I guess that's it. I guess that was easier than I though.

I can explain...

I missed judged my abilities. I thought, "Sure, I could put together 56 invitations in two days. Piece of cake."

No. It has not been a piece of cake. Two weeks later and I'm not even done. This sucks and I've been halfway tempted to say fuck it and get married at the courthouse today. I won't. Just because I've spent so much time, effort, and not to mention money on things for this wedding. Ugh. September can not come quickly enough.

Anyway, I figured I would post my prompt that I had written for the most recent meeting of the Wicked Wordsmiths (and especially since I didn't get to go to the meeting). The prompt was that we had to write a story using four words that we drew at random. (Luckily I'm familiar with such an exercise as I worked on Ohio University's 48-hour Shoot Out several years in college). My words were: drive-in theater, sizzle, tattoo, and antiquity. Enjoy.

Let’s All Go to the Movies

Courtney was an enigma. She was the girl everyone loved, but no one really knew about anything about. When she tricked me into taking her to the drive-in theater, I didn’t complain. She was, after all, my dream girl. This was the girl that I had spent hours and hours writing bad poetry and cheesy songs on my guitar. Courtney was the girl I thought of when the crappy love songs came on the radio.

            My mom and dad had let me borrow the car after a half hour of begging.

I spent more than usual getting ready. I wanted to look casual, but not too casual. I wanted to be cool without looking like I was trying too hard. Which I was, but that was beside the point. I opted for my Nirvana shirt with a flannel shirt over top even though it was still summer. I combined it with my jeans with the huge hole in the right knee and my Chuck Taylors. My hair. Well, there was nothing that could be done. It had a mind of its own.

I pulled up to her house very carefully. Seconds later Courtney stormed out of her house, slamming the door. She wore a crop top and a mini skirt, while stomping angrily in her platform sandals.

I didn’t even get a chance to get out of the car before she swung open the door and plopped herself into the seat with an audible grunt.

“Hey,” I said.

“Can we just get a move on it?” She didn’t look at me.

I shifted the car back into drive and made my way to the other end of town where the drive-in was. The sun was still up. The heat from the setting sun burned into my face. The car felt like it began to sizzle and I became suddenly embarrassed that I wasn’t allowed to use the car’s air conditioner. It had been one of the conditions my parents demanded when they agreed to let me use it. My parents were weird like that. It could be a bajillion degrees out and they would refuse to turn on the car AC.

“It wastes gas,” my mom would say.

“Having the window open works just as well, son,” my dad always countered.

But it wasn’t. It never was. And I was half tempted to turn it on. The car wasn’t exactly “cool.” It was an antiquity and probably needed to be taken out of its misery.

Courtney said nothing. She just watched the houses go by with a bored expression on her face.

“So what’s playing tonight?” I knew very well what was playing as I obsessed over it as soon as I got home from school. It was a summer double feature: The Lion King and Angels in the Outfield.

“Don’t know.” Her eyes never left the window.

“So it will be a surprise then. Cool.”

I pulled into the drive-in, paying for both of us. Still Courtney looked out the window like she didn’t want to be here.

I suddenly became very self-conscious about the situation. Maybe she had changed her mind. I imagined she tried to call my house to cancel, but I had already left. If only I hadn’t left five minutes early.

“Do you want any popcorn?” She turned towards me.

Her sudden question surprised me and I was a little caught off guard. “Huh? Oh yeah. I can go get us some if you want.”

“I’ll get it. You paid for our way in. The popcorn will be my treat.”

She quickly climbed out of the car and walked to the concession booth. Her sandals crunching the gravel with each step she took.

I felt awkward being here alone. Glancing around I saw mostly kids running around and climbing onto the hood of their parents’ car. They were excited about staying up past their bedtimes. I know I would have been.

I fiddled with the radio, turning it to the station of the theater. For the time being, it was just advertisements telling people to remember to go to the concession booth before the movie started. There were a few local ads as well. Nothing that was worth paying attention to, but it kept me busy while Courtney was gone.

“Care to give a girl a hand?” Courtney stood at the passenger side door, her arms full with popcorn, sodas, and other movie treats.

I scrambled out of the car and walked as fast as I could to the other side of the car. “You made out like a bandit.”

“I just flirted with the boy at the counter. You would be amazed how easy it was to score all this. For free even.” She got in the care. I looked at all the junk food, then at Courtney. That poor boy didn’t have a chance.

The sun was almost down. While the temperature had gotten lower, the humidity had stayed pretty high and I was really beginning to regret the flannel shirt.

“I’m sorry I was in a bad mood earlier” She popped a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. “My dad was being so lame. He didn’t like what I was wearing.”

I looked once again at what she was wearing. My dad had a similar argument with my older sister the other week. Then again, she was wearing way less than Courtney was currently wearing.

“It was all to distract him from this.” Courtney placed her right leg onto the dashboard and right above her ankle was a butterfly.

“Is that a real tattoo?” I leaned in closer to get a better look at it.

“Yep!” Courtney had a smug look on her face. “I got it today after school.”

I had never known anyone with a real tattoo before, especially not someone around my age.

“I got it for Princess Diana. She died yesterday.”

The mesmerizing butterfly with its pink wings and dark body broke its spell. I looked up at Courtney with confusion.

“Seriously, Marcus, don’t you watch the news? She died in a car crash in France.”

No, I didn’t watch the news. Most of the time my parents wouldn’t let me. They said I was too young to understand things that went on in the world.

I didn’t quite get why a seventeen year old girl got a pink butterfly tattoo for some dead princess. But when the African chanting started up and her eyes got wide with excitement that was the moment I completely fell in love with Courtney Fuller.

I Think I've Got It!

I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing for NaNo 2013. I've already started developing the main character and the plot.

 WOOO!

NaNoWriMo 2013

So in order to plan out exactly what I'm going to do for NaNo this year, I actually have to figure out what the hell I'm going to write. I've got nothing. So I'm taking my day off to think and scheme and get this shit ready. I'm ready for a NaNo win this year. 2013 is going to be the year of awesomeness for me. I won Camp NaNo in April (I set my word count to 10,000 but whatever), I'm getting married, and I WILL win NaNo in November.

And I just got called into work. Ha ha ha. Oh well, more hours, more money.

33 Words and Goals

Last night was the June meeting for Wicked Wordsmiths of the West. During the meeting, we went over our prompt from last month: write a story using only 33 words. Sounds easy? Maybe difficult?

It was a lot easier than I thought. After the meeting in May, I went home and started working on one. My fiance got in the fun and next thing we knew, we had a whole page of them.

“This isn't going to be fun,” I said as I slid onto the hood of the car, kicking off my sandals. I cocked the gun and shot the first zombie between the eyes.

Out of all of them, I used this one. Not because I thought it was particularly better than any of the other ones, but I really like zombies.

1. When we were writing them, it felt a lot like writing poetry. Not that I'm particularly keen on poetry, but it was nice. Here are a few of the other ones.

2. Nothing more that could be done. It was finally over. The wounds from the sword stung like hell. And as the blood ran down my body, I walked off. Into the setting sun.

3. There I stood, back where it all started, back to the beginning of it all. I caused this and I will be damned if I’m not the one to end it all now.

4. Finally, I had everything I ever desired, but I was empty. I still craved even more. I was never going to be fully satisfied until I had claimed everything. That was my curse.

5. The skies swirled and the lights faded. Thunder boomed as lightning struck a nearby oak tree. The Earth cracked as fire shot up to the sky. Heaven and Hell were at it again.

6. “Full steam ahead, Mr. Tin,” she said, placing her goggles on her head. The wind blowing back her hair as she felt the airship gained speed quickly.“Aye, Captain.”
Now this was flying.

For next month's meeting, our prompt is to create a story using the four words we drew at random. My words are: Drive-in Theater, Antiquity, Tattoo, and Sizzle.

I already have a first draft. I'm feeling pretty good about myself.

Also in last night's meeting, we wrote down our writing goals. These are things we're wanting to accomplish before NaNoWriMo starts in FOUR MONTHS (!) It's time we held ourselves responsible because a lot of us are getting lazy (myself included). I'm posting my goals here so I can be held extra responsible, because let's face it, I'm terrible about getting things done. I like making the lists, but never can seem to completing everything on it. Anyways, here we are.

Before November I will...

1. Completely outline my first NaNo novel: Everything Ends.

2. Figure out what I'm doing for NaNo 2013 - not flying by the seat of my pants this year!

Hold me responsible, dear readers (if there are any of you at all).

Rejections

Early 2010 was a bad time for me. That past November I had been forced to move from Athens (which felt more like home than any other place I had ever lived) back to Jackson, Ohio to my mom's. I had recently graduated college and I was without a job and money. While it was inevitable that I would leave Athens, I wanted to do it on my own terms, not like this. Never like this.

Over the years, the pain has gotten easier to deal with, but every once and a while when "Alma Mater Ohio" plays on my iPod or I look through my Facebook pictures, I tear up in the worse way possible. Don't even get me started on always having to miss Homecoming. I don't expect a lot of people to understand an OU alum's everlasting love for her Alma Mater. Ohio University wasn't just a college, it was home. Once a Bobcat, always a Bobcat

This blog post isn't about whining that I can't go back to college. Actually it's about rejection letters. Eventually.

The beginning of 2010 marked the beginning of my grand scheme to get back to Ohio University. The had this notion that I could get into grad school about as easy as I got into college. Turns out, it's actually rather difficult to get everything ready to apply to grad school. The hardest part was finding past professors who could write letters of recommendations. I wanted to go for creative writing. I was wanting to get serious about this crazy writing thing. Now if you know me in real life, you know I graduated with a degree in Psychology. A majority of my "professors" were grad students. And of course those grad students wouldn't be able to recommend me for a spot in the creative writing program. I did eventually get one of my creative writing profs to agree to write a recommendation. She wanted a writing sample and I sent her one. She sent it back with comments. To be honest, I never opened it up. I knew it was bad and I was embarrassed that I sent it. I gave up my dreams of going to grad school for the time being and decided to focus on writing and finding a job instead. But mostly on finding a job.

I'll get to the point of this, I swear.

I took my first creative writing class in... 2008? 2007? Spring 2008. That's it. It was a creative writing: fiction class. One of our in class writing assignments was to write in the style of a short story we read in class. The story was written in 2nd person. I finished shortly after ten minutes. I was so pleased with myself. It was like one of those things where you go back to read what you've just written and smile, thinking to yourself, "Damn, I'm awesome."

I always felt like this was the only thing worth submitting, so I did. And on January 4, 2010, I took the plunge, submitting my story to Mid-American Review and StoryQuarterly. (I also submitted it to Every Day Fiction in June of that year). June 2, 2010 is when it happen. I got a response from Mid-American Review.

Dear Sarah Baker:
Thank you for sending your work to Mid-American Review. Although we have decided not to accept it for publication, we wanted you to know that we read it with more than the casual amount of interest. 

We hope that you will send more work our way in the future and wish you luck in all of your literary endeavors, including place this submission elsewhere. 

Best wishes,
MXXXXXX CXXXXXXXXX,
Editor

Oddly enough, I wasn't upset. I was proud of myself for doing it. I knew the likelihood of getting published on my first try was very small. I was actually happy. That was the moment I considered myself a real writer. Stephen King nailed all his rejection letters to his wall, I have them saved in my e-mail under the proud folder: Literary Journal Rejections. And now I'm posting them on my blog for the world to see.

A couple days later I got my second rejection.

Dear Sarah Baker:
Thank you for submitting your story "Syllabus Day." 

Unfortunately, it really isn't right for us, and we need to pass on it. Thanks for submitting, and we wish you the best of luck in placing it elsewhere. 

Sincerely,
The Editors
StoryQuarterly

And of course, my rejection from Every Day Ficition.

Dear Sarah E. Baker,
Thank you for your submission to Every Day Fiction. I regret to inform you that we are unable to use it at this time.
Amusing piece, however EDF is probably not the right forum for publication, as this is not a story with plot and character development.
-- MXXXXXXX JXXXX

Well that's a funny way of saying "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here", but as Michelle points out it doesn't tell a story and is not appropriate for Every Day Fiction.
-- JXXX TXXXXX

We wish you good luck in placing the story elsewhere.
Sincerely,
All of us at Every Day Fiction

When I got them, I was surprised they all were the cookie cutter "insert name and title here" kind of rejections. Every Day Fiction actually took the time to read it and provide comments. I know this isn't all too common, but it felt nice.

For sticking around through my whining, here is the short in question. I will be working on it soon so I can start submitting it again.

Syllabus Day

Good afternoon. And welcome to Psychology 101. Before we start, let’s go over a few things, shall we? You are to show up to class every day. You don’t have any unexcused or “freebie” absences. If you miss one, you will fail the course.

There will be a quiz everyday worth twenty points. These will have nothing to do with what we are talking about either in class or about anything in the field of Psychology. If you fail more than two quizzes, consider retaking the class next quarter because you will fail the course.

As part of your grade, you are required to participate in ten psychological experiments. These experiments will probably be unethical and there is a 99.9% chance that you will come out with psychological damage. If you do not complete all ten experiments or I feel you should have chosen different experiments, you will fail the course.

There will be an exam every two weeks. The exams will not be covered by what we talk about in class. You must buy an old, expensive, obscure book. It is out of print, so you will not be able to buy it. However, if you don’t know what the book says, you will not do well on the exams. If you do not do well, consider retaking the class next quarter, because you will fail the course.

During class, I will give notes that have nothing to do with what we are talking about in this class and I will ramble on about stories from my sad, miserable life. I don’t put notes on BlackBoard and I don’t present a PowerPoint. You are responsible for figuring out what I will ask on the exams. If you don’t, I’m afraid you will fail the course.

There will be no food or drink in my classroom. I know this is a class during lunchtime, but nonetheless, you are here to learn, not eat. If I see as much as a piece of gum in this room, you will fail the course.

This is Robert, my TA. He is a graduate student studying Physics. He will not help you. Some days he will teach the class, but I assure you, it won’t be an enlightening experience since he has no idea how to teach a class of undergrads. If you try to ask Robert for help, you will fail the course.

If you have any complaints about this class or my style of teaching, please tell me, but you will fail the course.

Changing Names

To continue on with Everything Ends, I finally found a new last name for the character of Oliver. Up until this morning, Oliver had always been Oliver Davis.

Now I've been working on this story since about 2005/2006. It was around that time. Anyway, in 2010 I started dating a boy with the last name of, surprise, surprise, Davis. In the back of my mind, I told myself, “Maybe I should change it?” It would be weird to have a character with the same last name as my boyfriend. Right? It wasn't like that character was based off of him because the character definitely came first. Well, three years later I’m still dating the boy with the last name Davis and in fact come September; MY last name will be Davis.

I've been more inclined to find Oliver a new last name. If I felt weird about having a character and my partner with the same last name, I definitely feels weird with a character and myself sharing a last name.

So this morning, I got on my phone and Google researched last names. I spent the better part of a half hour reading through a very large list of the most common names in the US. Davis was in the top ten. Baker (my last name now) is in the top twenty. If you’re like me, name a character isn't something very simple. It’s not like I can just throw a first and a last name together and call it a day. When it comes to naming a character, I try to take the same care I would when I will name my children.

I spent that half hour saying “Oliver” in front of hundreds of last names. Oliver slowly became a jumbled lolling mess in my mouth. That’s what she said?

Long story short, Oliver Davis is now Oliver Owens.

I like it. It flows easily.

Back To The Future....I Mean Beginning

I totally had a whole post planned out and then I finally got to the internet, clicked "new post," and forgot all the witty things I was wanting to say. Damn.

Wait. I remember it was about my first NaNo novel (now called Everything Ends).

Right. I'm working on it. Kind of. For last month's meeting for Wicked Wordsmiths of the West (my writing group) I wrote a flash fiction piece that featured my two main characters from Everything Ends: Oliver and Juliet. After I wrote it I figured it would fit nicely in my unfinished novel and the piece even got a good reception.

It was the first time I had ever let anyone read anything I had written (aside from my fiance, of course). WHAT? I call myself a writer and I don't let anyone read anything! What madness is this? Extreme madness, I know. But I'm getting over my fear of getting out there.

Anyway, I have been trying to start at the very beginning and actually outline where I want this to go. I have many, many holes that need filled in and whatnot.

Then there will be the editing. But let's not go there just yet.

I Really Suck At Multitasking

There's hasn't been much writing in the past few days. Or any at all really. I have been trying to work on wedding things to be fair. Writing, I guess, can be done at any time, but my wedding is only three months and seven days away. It's, like, crunch time.

I also really suck at multitasking. It's something that my fiance is always teasing me about. I can barely text more than two people at a time. Not that I get to do that often. Anyway, my whole problem with all these things I need to do, or want to do, is that I can't multitask worth shit.

Take the last few days into consideration. I could have easily divided up my time between reading, writing, and working on wedding stuff. I didn't. I get one thing on my mind and that's what I run with. That is until I get bored and start running with the next thing.

On the plus side, I have an awesome title if I ever want to write a memoir.

Disorganized Hot Mess

Lately I've been suffering from overwhelming-itis. I feel like I have a ton of crap to do, and I want to do it all a once. There's work, plus wanting to write. Not to mention to the desire to read every single book EVER! And then there's the big thing that takes a lot of my free time: wedding planning. Not that I'm actually getting stuff done with that, of course. But I spend most of my time worrying over whether or not I'm going to everything done in time. I have 102 days (thanks The Knot for giving me such a detailed deadline). O_o

The point is, I feel like I have so much to do and not enough hours in the world to complete them all. I'm a disorganized hot mess.

Umm...oops!

I totally forgot about you dearest blog. I'm guessing flowers and a sincere apology isn't going to do it, is it? I blame the internet. Or rather my lack thereof at home. Yeah. I'll go with that.

Seriously blog, you need to kick me in the ass when I forget about you.