Ever have one of those days when you don't know what the f@#k you're writing, you just write? You get it out because if you go back...you'll keep going back.
All you can do is pray that when it's all said and done, you can make enough sense of it to fix it into what it's supposed to be...
God...I need a drink. But that won't happen for about 6 more months.
What in the hell did I get myself into?
That me posting the word count might not be EVERY day only because my internet works sporadically. But, when I have a chance, I will definitely update it as soon as possible.
Not much to say today. I got to see my little peanut on the ultra sound yesterday, which was great. They had a little trouble finding the heartbeat on the doppler, so I had a quick ultra sound and everything was great.
I'm in a weird reflective mood today...not much for blogging today.
I'll make sure to keep updating The Countdown as daily as possible!
Sometimes I wish I could gather all the people that I love and take them to a place where time doesn't exist.
I wish that I never had to worry about losing them--about the grief that would come when they are no longer there. Some days I feel like I go crazy with the idea of loss...of not having the people I love so desperately not be there.
I had strange dreams last night. I always have strange dreams. I really do think I'm losing my mind sometimes. Or maybe it was already lost and I'm only now realizing it.
In books...no time exists aside from the time you create. Maybe after you finish the last page you can imagine what their lives were after. But there is no after. You can always start over and relive as many times as you desire.
But life goes on. Time moves forward. There are losses and times to say goodbye. I just don't like the idea of it very much all the time.
-donatedth_b.jpg)
So...at this moment, less than a week after coming back to this blog, I have a bit of triumph today--the first in a very...very long time.
I wrote 2500 words like I promised myself I would do. And I figure, 2500 words at the end of 30 days means 75000 at the end of a month...which means...a novel. A finished manuscript.
So...I'm going to challenge myself. I know this is going to sound like NaNoWriMo...but I wasn't even remotely interested in doing that. There was way too much hub bub and hub bub makes me anxious.
I instead, plan on doing this with as little fan fare as possible. This is my own personal challenge to see if I can just STICK to this one thing for a month. I realized what was making this so difficult was me trying to revise as I went along and trying to get it perfect in one shot. Maybe that worked for Kurt Vonnegut--but it is driving me insane and I really am turning into a raging bitch because I can't get crap done.
I have to literally tune out my daughter and fiance to get any writing done. I literally told him to get away from me and do something with himself...and at 12 am this child is STILL awake and I had to threaten her to get her to lay down.
Like I mentioned on my facebook, if I keep letting distractions keep me from doing what I need to get done on this manuscript, then I will NEVER get anything done.
So here, for all you folks to see, I am stating that I am giving myself until May 27th to finish this. No more, no less. It HAS to be done by then. I let this sit for entirely too long. Even for the days when I think I have nothing, I'm going to give something.
So...as of today, I have 3855 words written. Yesterday I had only 1338. I added 2500 to that and came up with 3838 which I am over by seventeen. Everyday I'm going to add 2500 to that number and keep tally here. I won't write about my progress every day, but I will add a section here on Blogger with the word count and days left.
And...here goes nothin' folks!
Now, I'm going to reward myself with reading a book while I'm in the bathtub. Hey...I'm pregnant, so the wine it out of the question..unfortunately.
Trying to write and get your sticky two year old to take a nap. Seriously...I've been on the same sentence for 20 minutes.
Me: "Izzy, LAY DOWN."
Izzy: "Whatever momma."
Yeah.
Good times.
About a month ago, a little seven year old girl got gang raped about ten minutes from where I live. She was sold out by her 15 year old step sister. It made national headlines and even the creator of Def Comedy Jam and ex husband to Kimora Lee, Russel Simmons came to this dump of a city we called Trenton to make something happen.
They ended up organizing a group called Peace Keepers or something. I'm not sure what it's supposed to do. The gang problem, the drug problem here is way out of hand--too much for a group of 50 well meaning guys to have much impact.
The difference from kids today and back when I was a kid--that there are no limits. There is nothing sacred to them. And I know I can't raise my children here in this place. There is a dark, dark shroud over this city in which light refuses to penetrate. I don't believe any good can come from this place. When I was a girl--my mother struggled to get us out of here...and she did. I was blessed that I got to go to a good school system and be raised in a very good neighborhood.
It's raining here today. It's gray and cold and wet, but my apartment is warm. Israel is watching Nemo, the boyfriend is getting ready to leave for work and errands...and I'm sitting here thinking about things too much.
I wrote--but I didn't mean to. I mean...I wasn't trying to. My neice came over this weekend to spend the night and she saw it on my lap top and she asked me to read it to her. So I read it...and explained the story to her...and she liked it. She told me she couldn't wait until I wrote some more. So I think my main purpose now is writing so I can tell her the whole story. She wants me to read it all to her when I'm finished--which I think is funny. She'd read it herself, but she's only 8 and some of the words, she says, are too big. And she likes how I explain things.
I told her the gist of the story in less than five minutes. And she told me that I was going to be famous and when I was, could I take her on a cruise.
I promised I would. So...there's some incentive.
I always come back to her.
I've left her alone for nearly a year now. But I can't seem to write anything else because I can't forget about her.
It's supposed to be normal--this starting and stopping. Stephen King started Under The Dome in what...'76 and it came out in 2009. Granted, he had tons of other books written before that. But I honestly can't see myself doing anything else until I finish this. I don't know where to start...but I definitely feel like I'm wasting time.
I can't tell you how many books I've read since then. What's even more ridiculous is that I know the story from beginning to end. And yet...nothing.
I'm trying not to think about it so much so early in the morning--but I can't help it. That strange little depression is starting to descend on me. It's either hormones or that sneaking suspicion of being a failure.
What am I doing wrong? I miss Charlie. I don't want to lose her story.
So it's like what? Almost the end of April now? Yeah, that's about right. I always have those 'it's been forever' type posts. One every few months when I get so caught up with life that I don't find the time to be here...or the desire. I guess that makes me a little horrible. My inspiration has been more than a little lacking. But it's mostly because I've been suffering from morning sickness for almost 14 weeks now, along with a bunch of other little unpleasant aspects of being pregnant.
No.
I haven't been writing. I've been thinking about writing. I can't tell you how many times I've sat with MS Word open and absolutely nothing has come out. I won't say it is as severe as me having lost my mojo. But I am so unbelievably distracted that I can't think.
So I am back. And I don't know what's going to happen. I kind of learned to stop trying to plan these things and just do what I have to do. Whatever that is. There's so much I need to catch up on. It's strange because like--I remember NOT having my own computer and finding a way to be here, and now that I do...I've been MIA.
I have this horrible flaw of not being able to stick to anything. My inspiration dries up faster than ice in the Sierra desert. Really. That's sad. I should be ashamed of myself.
So we'll see what happens this time around. Maybe reading some of your fantastic blogs will spark something to life.
But for now, I'm here.
And I think for me at least, it counts for something.
