Well, I said this novel would get off the ground ¡Cuando monos vuelven de mi culo! Then one of those little organ grinder ones escaped, shrieked and ran off.
Yesterday’s "Introduction " was written tongue in cheek but Gene aka Hoss aka Lowell wasn’t too far off the mark in his comment. The only thing I could come up with for a plot is a very average girl who alternately takes up too much and too little space in her own life. She is of average intelligence, lives average, looks average, and has no particularly redeeming characters or quirks or interesting flaws. The only thing she really has are stories about the OTHER people in her life who actually are quite a bit larger than life and exceptional in numerous and quirky ways. I also came up with a good title: The Night Buckminster Fuller Came to Dinner, and I had some good material for that chapter about a tractor salesman, a giant geodesic dome and a subsequent conflagration of monumental proportions.
That’s when it occurred to me that there are significant problems with NaNoWriMo. The Top Ten Reasons this is probably a bad idea are:
10- I don’t write fiction. Sometimes I write slightly exaggerated life but I don’t know how to write fiction. Never took a class, never joined a group, never aspired to write a novel. I have poor grammer skills and use far too many ellipses.
9- I don’t like group activities. This is because I’m so average that when I’m in a group I’m either trying to be smaller or striving for the center of attention. Tonight, already, the Ann Arbor Chapter of National Novel Writers Month is meeting at the Cafe Espresso Royale.
8- My reaction to caffeine is akin to mainlining cocaine so coffee and coffee houses are not in my lifestyle. I want to go to Starbucks like I wanted to be in Lamaze classes. Better we convene at a bar.
7- I live in Ann Arbor, for pete’s sake. The only writer’s group more serious is meeting at Starbucks in Elyria, Ohio this morning. These people are not likely to be average writers and they are definitely not in the frame of mind that they are average writers.
6- Rich has decided to write a novel. He announced this night before last as he hovered over me, well into my personal space, with a mouthful of Lay’s potato chips. Since then every time I sit down with my laptop he is standing, leaning over me, two inches to the left and 14 inches above me asking, "So how’s it going? So whatcha doing? So how many words you got? Huh? Huh?" When I glare at him he bends down, pats me like a dog and says, "Ooooo, I just love you SO much! What’s for dinner? I’m going downstairs to write!" He has already written 6,000 words.
5- We both can’t write because someone has to earn a living, cook, clean and rake the leaves.
4- I have a job, a career, a profession if you will. Patients keep showing up to interfere with my writing.
3- If I go to that meeting (or a bar) tonight, yoga tomorrow night, plus watch Survivor I’ll already be 4800 words behind. And that is too much like the bad dream where it’s final exam day and you haven’t even been to the class all semester.
2- A newborn infant and her parents will be living here for two weeks during November. I would rather hold the baby.
And the #1 reason this is probably a bad idea is because: NaNoWriMO reports that as of now 47,393,236 words have been added to the word count and we’re only starting day two. I know, for a fact, that most of that has to be very average doggerel. I’m not always a good recycler but I am a karmic environmentalist and I have to decide if I can, in good conscience, be a contributor to the diaper landfill of so much crappy verbiage.
Mamacita says the T-shirts are cool. I think I’ll order one today and then see how I feel. Right now- writing this NaNoWriMo novel feels as though it could really bring out the, hmmm, average in me.
P.S. There’s one other problem. I have such an average spell check program that it wants to change ¡Cuando monos vuelven de mi culo! to "Candi moons eleven of my cult" and NaNoWriMo to Panorama.