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NaNo 2014: Week #1 Recap

In order to finish the rough draft of my novel by December 30, I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year. I’ve done NaNo in the past (I won the challenge in 2009 and wrote a fabulously bad novel), so this experience is not new to me. But what *is* new this year is that I’m using NaNo as a way to complete the rough draft of a novel I plan to publish. So the pressure is on to write 50,000 words this month, more so than in past years of NaNo.

My first week has not been spectacular. I’ve found it hard to write after a long day at work, or the baby has demanded my attention for most of the day and I can only write for the 45 minutes she manages to nap. Or I’ve had to grade papers (day job = teacher).

I’m up to 7,806 words, which is almost double what I had written for the novel before November 1st (current total word count for the novel: 15,750).  So in a sense, NaNo has already helped me increase my productivity. So that’s good.

But I’m also finding out that I am not a fast writer. I have moments where I get going and the words come faster, but for the most part, I just do not come up with ideas, words, lines of dialogue, descriptions, or plot developments fast enough.

This past weekend I tried a new strategy to see if I could get my word count up: Using the “Writercopter” (Courtesy of Hillary Rettig)

And so far, it has been helpful. I am not a writer who outlines her story (i.e.: a “planner,” as many in the NaNo community call it), but I do sketch out the basic structure of my story by figuring out what should happen in each chapter (and this is all very sketchy and rough; ex.: “Ch. 8, Merlin uses some kind of spell to find the Nomad [she is wandering on a distant planet]; she uses the whetstone to sharpen her sword and defeat the spirit creature that has stalked her”). So the Writercopter method works for me because I can skip from chapter to chapter whenever the mood strikes me, or I get an inspiration for a particular part of the story. Yesterday, when I was struggling with Chapter 6, I skipped ahead to Chapter 7 and then even did a little bit with Chapter 12.

Unfortunately, even this method hasn’t increased my word count by all that much. My new goal is 2,000 words per day. This should get me over the 50,000 hump. But so far today, I’ve written 46 words (and I just wrote them two minutes ago so I could claim to have written something before posting this blog).

The only thing that gives me comfort at this point is that my average per day is 780 words — which is more than the 350 George R.R. Martin supposedly writes each day.

Boardwalk Empire Finale and How to End a Story

I find endings to be the most difficult to write. Beginnings come easy. Middles can sag, but there are simple ways to beef them up (add more conflicts, introduce new characters, do something surprising, flesh out subplots). But endings? Endings are impossible (or at least they feel impossible every time I need to write one). Of course, anyone can write “The End” and come up with some convoluted conclusion (after all, even the ancient Greeks had the deus ex machina). But to write an ending that sticks, that makes sense, that surprises, that satisfies — that is the hardest thing to do.

The series finale for Boardwalk Empire has me thinking endings, what works and what doesn’t. I have been watching the show from the beginning, and since that time, I’ve often thought about how I would write and structure the show if I were the creator. If I were approaching the ending, I’d first consider whether Nucky would live or die. There are basically four types of endings (although I concede that there are variations): The main character wins and something changes; the main character wins and things go back to normal; the main character loses and something changes; or the main characters loses and nothing changes.

For Boardwalk, the first decision is whether Nucky wins or loses. Does he live or does he die? If he were to live, the most satisfying and thematically appropriate ending is to have him lose everything and end up destitute and alone (basically, everything he ever wanted has come to naught). Perhaps he goes to jail, perhaps he just lives in an old shack somewhere and is forgotten. But I think it’s expected that Nucky should suffer. Most gangster stories, in fact, are highly moral in the sense that the gangster “gets what’s coming to him.” So whether he lives or dies, it seems fitting that Nucky should suffer some kind of emotional damage.

If he were to die, then he should probably be struck down by someone he has hurt (again, this puts the gangster story firmly in a moral universe). If the show wanted to go for a nihilistic ending, I suppose Nucky could be killed by some random person, but this would make things seem less moralistic and more random/meaningless. There *is* room for that kind of ending in a gangster story (with the theme being something like, “if you try to make money in a dangerous world, don’t be surprised if it bites you in the ass”), but I am not sure the random/meaningless ending is the most satisfying.

And that’s the key to a good ending: it should be a satisfying and fitting ending to the story. Endings (and the climaxes that precede them) are really where the main theme makes its presence known. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that in the series finale, Nucky tells the story about how when he earned his first nickel he thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world, and then he thought, “but a dime… a dime would be better.” That’s the whole sum of his character right there; he was never satisfied with the wealth that he got. [Sidebar: I am reminded of the season two opening sequence where we watch a montage of the main characters while the song “After You Get What You Want (You Don’t Want It)” plays over the images. It’s the theme again: nothing is ever enough to satisfy the greed and desire to “get ahead.”]

BOARDWALK EMPIRE SPOILERS AHEAD

So the ending we actually got — Nucky is killed by Tommy Darmody — should be a satisfying ending. Nucky dies (punishment for his sins), and he is killed not by a random person, and not even by the police or a fellow gangster (both his “natural” enemies), but by the grandson of the woman he originally wronged way back in his early, “good” days. Nucky’s crime against Gillian is his original sin/fatal flaw, so in a very Greek-tragedy sorta way, Nucky’s punishment must come at the hands of Gillian’s grandson.

But is this a good ending?  Is it fitting? Is it both surprising and satisfying? Does it communicate the theme of the story? I was once told by a writing teacher that the best endings surprise us, but then as we reflect back on the story, we realize it couldn’t have ended any other way. Great endings are paradoxically both surprising and inevitable. Does the Boardwalk Empire ending do this? Does it feel like, yes, this was the only way this story could have ended?

I know I was surprised that the young man whom Nucky had taken under his wing earlier in the season turned out to be Tommy Darmody. I’m actually mad at myself for not figuring it out. (I even remember noting that this relationship seemed like Nucky & Jimmy Redux.) However, many fans online *did* figure out Tommy’s identity. So perhaps the ending wasn’t as surprising as it seemed.

Further musing: Is surprise necessary for a good ending?  Yes, but the surprise doesn’t have to be “shocking” or a “gotcha” moment. But I do think the best endings give us something unexpected. Maybe not in *what* happens but in the *way* things happen.

While watching Boardwalk’s finale, I was surprised. I did not expect the young kid to be Tommy Darmody, and I actually thought Nucky might live out his life in obscurity, left alone with his conscience. As I watched the finale, I found it satisfying.

However, looking back on it a few days later, I’m not so sure. The ending definitely shocked me, but part of me wonders if Nucky got off too easy. Death is a release, and it might have been more punishment for Nucky to live out his life with the crushing guilt of what he did to Gillian. There is a part of me that wonders, “Maybe a different ending would have been better…”

I still think the ending the writers came up with is a good one. It certainly brings the story full-circle, and there is a kind of satisfaction in that. But even with an ending that I think is good, there’s a nagging feeling that maybe it could’ve been better. That’s why endings are so darn hard.

Pottermore and Me

At first I felt guilty about joining Pottermore and wasting precious hours not writing. This was two days ago. But now, on my third day of “life with Pottermore” I am feeling slightly less guilty. Still guilty, but less so.

Yes, Pottermore is still a massive time-suck that is completely useless (WHY am I obsessed with dueling?! WHY?! I suck at it!), but it’s also helpful for my writing in two ways. One, it’s strangely inspirational. J.K. Rowling, who started off as just a random nobody who spent her off hours writing a novel about a boy wizard, is now one of the most successful authors in history. I can guarantee that I’ll never be as famous or as widely read as J.K. Rowling, but her success story is inspirational nevertheless. I’m not sure why that is — why Rowling and not, say George R.R. Martin? I have no answer for why I find Rowling an inspiration and not Martin, but I do. Perhaps it’s her accessibility. Not the kind of accessibility that lets me know what she had for lunch or which football team she’s rooting for, but accessibility when it comes to her writing life.  And that’s exactly what Pottermore is; it’s accessibility. It allows fans to get access to her writing process and the way her imagination works. I love reading about how authors work, how they get ideas. I love seeing what methods they use, and I love to use some of their methods for my own work. It keeps my mind stimulated and makes the act of writing seem fresh.  So Pottermore *is* helpful in that sense; I’m getting a glimpse into the mind of the Harry Potter author and seeing how she created her stories and her world.

It’s also helpful as part of my “stimuli” theory. When I’m writing a fantasy story, I need fantasy-based stimuli to keep my imagination buzzing. By using the interactive experience of Pottermore, by exploring the world of Harry Potter, I am able to generate ideas for my own fictional world. The swish of a cat’s tail in the darkness of Privet Drive is enough to get my mind racing with story possibilities. The rows upon rows of dusty boxes at Olivander’s stimulate my senses — the smell of the dust; the crinkle of the parched boxes; the pale, hazy light from the storefront window that streaks across the old wizard as he searches the endless stacks. The images and graphics and icons — they all work like little electrical shocks, reanimating my creativity and propelling me to open Scrivener so I can get back to my own novel.

So yes, I should probably spend less time on Pottermore and more time actually writing. But there is a place for Pottermore in my writing life; I just need to make sure I don’t get stuck there.

“It’s the eyebrows”: Thoughts on the 12th Doctor

Peter-Capaldi-Doctor-Who-Time-of-the-DoctorI like that he’s meaner. Matt Smith’s 11th Doctor will always be my first Doctor – and thus, a part of me will always claim he’s my favorite Doctor – but, boy howdy, do I love Peter Capaldi as number 12! I was the lone voice of reason amongst my group of Doctor Who friends, who all had doubts about “the old guy,” but having seen him be amazing on The Hour, I knew Capaldi would be fantastic as the Doctor. First, he’s Scottish. And as a fake Scottish person myself (Digression: I can do a wicked Scottish accent… and this is NOT bragging. It’s mostly to do with the fact that I have no life and once spent an entire summer watching nothing but Kelly MacDonald movies and the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, all the while perfecting my ability to talk like a Glaswegian), I appreciate the Doctor’s new accent and think it totally suits a rather grumpy, rather prickly Doctor (and I love that he noticed that he had an accent). The Scottishness of the Doctor extends beyond his accent — he’s clever, and smart-alecky, and gruff — and I’m glad Moffat and Capaldi didn’t gloss over the accent but used it as a way to explore a different facet of the Doctor’s personality.

I also love that this meaner Doctor is a throwback to the first Doctor, William Hartnell. The first Doctor was essentially a grumpy old man. Capaldi’s Doctor is what I picture a young Hartnell being like: smarter than everyone else in the room, annoyed by others’ lack of intelligence, uncomfortable with letting too many emotions show, snippy and caustic because it amuses him but also because it keeps his deep, deep loneliness buried.

rick-and-mortyAlso, I can’t be the only one to notice that the tone of this new season and this new Doctor feel like they are riffing on Adult Swim’s Rick and Morty. I know that Rick and Morty is an homage to Back to the Future (with a little Doctor Who thrown in), but I’ll be damned if the dialogue from, say, “Mummy on the Orient Express” doesn’t sound like it could be transposed word-for-word to Rick and Morty. Of course, Doctor Who is not copying a gross-out, R-rated adult cartoon – I don’t mean to suggest that – but it’s uncanny how well Capaldi’s Doctor matches up to Rick. Maybe it is the eyebrows…

Dear Boardwalk Empire: Thank you for giving us Mickey Doyle!

There are a lot of things I love about Boardwalk Empire – the soundtracks, the costumes, the fantastic sets, the fabulous acting from the entire cast – but the thing I love most about Boardwalk is Mickey Doyle. Paul Sparks has created a character not normally seen on television; in fact, he’s a throwback to the old character actors of the 1930s and 40s. These actors never really played anyone but themselves; they each had a shtick and they stuck to it. Elisha Cook Jr., Dan Duryea, Frank McHugh, Ned Sparks, Peter Lorre, Eugene Pallette, Guy Kibbee, Warren William. It’s not that any of them played deep, riveting characters with complex emotions and fully developed character arcs. What made each special was the quirky character he played. Mickey Doyle is one of those same great characters. Some how, some way, Sparks has taken a goofy, throwaway character, and turned him into a supporting character masterpiece. The bad jokes. The lechery. The sinister, rat-like smile. The implausible indestructibility. That laugh. Mickey Doyle could jump right into a 1931 Warner Brothers gangster movie without missing a beat.

I’ve been a big fan of Boardwalk right from the start, but what really made me fall in love was the moment when Mickey Doyle got thrown off the balcony at Babette’s and yet still managed to survive. He’s like a cockroach; nothing can kill him. My dream is for Boardwalk Empire to end with everyone dead or in jail… everyone except Mickey Doyle. I hope he gets the last laugh (literally).

Warming up to write

I have a problem. I know I should write everyday — and I am happier when I do — but I can’t simply sit down for 30 minutes or an hour and start writing. I need a “warm-up.” Basically, I need a (lengthy) period of time before I actually put words to paper in which I let my mind wander and my imagination imagine. I need to visualize things, play around with story ideas, and just basically get lost in my own head for awhile before I can start writing. And this presents a problem because my warm-up time often exceeds the actual time I have to get my writing for the day done.

Since my little one arrived (she’s four months old), I don’t have hours to devote to warming-up and then writing. I have maybe a half-hour, maybe an hour total, but that’s not enough time to rev up my imagination and get through my daily word count (which at this point is 600 words a day, IF I want to make my deadline of December 30).

Does anyone else need a “warm-up” time before she can actually sit down and start writing? Or am I alone in my sorrows?

One thing I’ve found helpful — since I don’t have enough time to do my “warm-ups” — is to basically immerse myself in stimuli all day long that keep my imagination flowing. For example, my current novel is a retelling of Arthurian legends (basically, Merlin trying to save the world, but in the present day), so I listen to Celtic-sounding music all day, read books and watch T.V. that are fantasy-based, and try to only read and look at things that put my imagination into the world of King Arthur, the Middle Ages, dragons and monsters, magic, etc. etc. So far my total immersion plan has been going pretty well. I feel like what I’m doing is “feeding” my imagination all day long so that when I do finally get a few minutes to sit down and write, my imagination is “full” and I can get to the business of writing without wasting time.

The difficulty, however, is when I can’t do total immersion. At the moment, I am completely stalled with the novel because I haven’t been able to immerse myself in stimuli. So as a result, I haven’t written in over a week and I’m not feeling the “heat” of the story anymore. I need an emergency dose of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, two doses of my Sandman comics, and a flip through the new Brandon Sanderson book I just downloaded (The Way of Kings). If nothing else, I need to start listening to my old Clannad albums (Legend for the win!).

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