Monday Moanings, November 4, 2013

NaNoWriMo - My Lite Version

It all began on Friday...

Image courtesy of
National Novel Writing Month

NaNoWriMo, a whole 30 days of intensive writing, a kind of writer's marathon (check out this link for details on the official scoop). Now I'm not a registered participant because firstly I'm not writing a novel and secondly, I'm not that driven, and so I'm doing a 'Lite' version. My approach is a little more relaxed because I've learned, finally, that it's okay to give myself permission to have fun, to accept the better offer when it comes along without obligingly picking up a side order of guilt, and it's okay to attend to my own well being.

So on Friday, Day 1 of NaNoWriMo, I spent a good chunk of the day with my sisters instead of writing. We had a great day together revisiting some of the wonderful stories of our childhood. We laughed a lot, learned a story or two one or more of us didn't know and simply revelled in time together. With a bit of a stretch I could claim that this was valuable research for the memoir I'm writing, but in truth no actual writing occurred, not a single word.

Day 2 - Saturday I was snookered by a TMJ/migraine tag team that effectively blocked all incentive to write, and replaced it with fatigue and an aura of unremitting gloom, coincidentally matching the weather. Again no writing, not a single word, unless I can count a grocery list.

Day 3 - Behold! A day of glorious redemption! A full day, crisp, bright and AWAY at Writing from the Centre. Many thanks to my friends Elaine and Janis for the time, space and great food. Sunday, I put words on paper, the ink flowed from a fully charged fountain pen, (which I had to refill half way through the day!), my brain actually formed sentences and put them together into meaningful paragraphs and the coherent (relatively - as is typical of first draft) pages stacked up. I estimate the word count to be just shy of 2000, but it matters more to me that I wrote, that I knocked off an episode or two of the book and that feels good, really good!

Day 4 - Well of course it's Monday and there is no sense in moaning about it. I'm off to the gym then the afternoon is clear for another luxurious stretch of writing. I'm thinking a modest goal of 1500 words a day is doable and if I manage that on 5 days out of 7, I'll reach 30,000 by month's end, which is just about what I need to flesh out the middle section of the memoir.

So here's my goal for NaNoWriMo Lite: Complete the first draft of Section B, currently titled "As Time Goes By" by November 30.

Cover me! I'm going in...

©2013 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - July 11, 2013

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."

This William Wordsworth quotation has been bouncing around in my consciousness for a few days now, and I'm happy to report that several more pages of the memoir I'm working on have been filled as a result of that bobber in the midst of the otherwise placid lake of my mindfulness. Yay!

Some days fishing is a good metaphor for my writing process - just throw out a line and see what's biting.Today I'm honing 'catch and release' skills, which in fishing is a fine and admirable practice but in writing nets a very paltry take, unless of course you are my inner critic. My inner critic is having a blast. She can hardly believe her luck on the lake today. All I can hear is her gleeful cackle: "That one's too big. That one's too small. That one's no good. That one bites."

The write fish has got to be out there, somewhere. I check my tackle and recast the line, aiming for the quiet pool just beyond the reeds, just over the rock ledge, that ... perfect ... spot. Ahh but alas, perfection is the inner critic's splash park. No wonder she's having so much fun today!

Time for me to exchange my pen for the camera, for today the breathings of my heart inspire me discover wordless images of beauty and wonder, joy and love. And that's about as perfect as anything gets.

Let's go for a walk in my garden.

Now let's head over to the York Regional Forest - Hollidge Tract

And back home again for a good roll in the grass:

All photos ©April Hoeller 2013

Monday Moanings - June 10, 2013

Oh woe is me, woe I say!
I have managed to fritter away some seven hours today. Perhaps "fritter" is a little harsh - enjoying a good healthy breakfast and then heading off to a Curves workout in town were surely commendable pursuits. So let's award two hours for good behaviour. Now what about those other five? Well okay then, "fritter" is actually a fair word...

Fuelling this wasteful behaviour was, and is, my complete inability to make a decision, to simply choose a topic for this blogpost and then apply my backside firmly to a chair and write it. I was clobbered by some kind of tsunami as a sea of hands rose up in my classroom of topics each one demanding my attention. I'll have you know though, that I've been doing the 'backside in chair' part very well! The World Wide Web is such a great outlet for displacement activity.

Finally my inner critic goaded me with enough guilt that I just picked up my pen, grabbed my journal and started to write...

Almost all of my writing begins with pen on paper, as opposed to fingers on keyboard. There is a highly favoured writing instrument for this activity; a Parker 'Sonnet' fountain pen made in France, that my beloved bought for me some fifteen years ago. The perfect weight of the pen in my hand, the fine balance; the perfect tapered thickness of barrel between my fingers, the lush coolness; the satin smooth flow of specially blended ink accompanied by ever so soft scratching sounds as letters become words at the tip of a golden nib; all work together to make writing the most natural, most soothing, most pleasurable thing in the world.

The fountain pen comes with a history and character that only some papers can bear. The paper must be smooth enough to allow the pen to move unimpeded across the page, thick enough to resist bleed through and plentiful enough to encourage whole truths.

Maybe next time I'll be able to call on one of those urgent, waving hands in my writing ideas class, but for now I'll just let a fountain pen caress paper and enjoy what happens.