BUT! I’m still putting this experiment in the “win” column. As I mentioned when I started this, the true reason I participate in Lent is to change bad habits. I’ve done that. I haven’t found a 30-minute niche in my daily schedule to write, sadly, but let’s face it, I can’t stick to a schedule as it is with all the chaos happening these days. I wrote more in those 40-ish days, in a variety of places for a variety of audiences, than I have in quite a while. This bad habit may not have been “fixed” but I certainly put a considerable dent in it.

Most importantly, I pulled my fiction writing motivation out of the muck, which was the goal within the goal. I started off strong, elaborating on a dream, but once I got through “the moment” that was motivating me to write, I didn’t feel like continuing on to the next part of those characters’ story. This left me floundering a bit, but that didn’t last long. Old ideas crept back into my brain and forced me to pay attention. The simple act of thinking back on those stunted stories was enough to keep me going. I spent lots of my not-writing time thinking about what I’d write if I had the time. Insomnia is good for that. All that re-awakening lead to some new thoughts on old works that I briefly entertained (mentally if not always on paper), but it kept me fed.

My really-real goal for Lent was to kick-start my fiction-writing brain so that when it was over, I could pick up where I left off on my “Epic Idea” way back last August. I’ve been afraid of starting the actual writing process for this idea because I know it’s “The One” and I don’t want to start it until I’m really ready. I even pushed it aside for last year’s NaNoWriMo because I felt I needed to practice with a similar type of storytelling. Until the world is fleshed out and the history is fleshed out, I don’t feel like I can safely start telling the story. I wanted to get closer to being able to start it, and since I’d decided that notes and outlines didn’t count for Lent, I’d set everything aside for some sort of Easter-related celebration. I needed to earn them.

Did I?

I’ll never know. Just before Lent was over, without checking any of my notes, simply with the strands of story that still lingered in my head, it began to surface amid all the other stories bouncing about in my brain. A new beginning and a new way to introduces a few key characters emerged. I didn’t wait until Lent was over to get the new ideas down, and over the past few weeks, I’ve felt my mind glue itself to this story. It’s still not where I want to it to be to start writing, but the characters are starting to take real shape and are helping shape their world and history (like they do). Specific scenes have started writing themselves and I’ve been taking notes on the actual story as much as the history.

It’s a great place to be, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s Mission Accomplished for Lent 2010.

I experienced a bonus, too. About half-way through Lent I realized that not only had my writing motivation stagnated, but so had my reading. I had such literary plans for the first part of this year, and they fell ridiculously flat. For some reason I’ve got a mental block the most recent murmur book club title and I couldn’t even begin it. I still haven’t read past the first paragraph. I don’t know what that’s about (my reluctance, not the book), but I plan on reading it this week and including that in my (now out of date) review.

I’m going to need some help staying motivated through the coming months, and nothing motivates me like crossing something off a list. To that end, I’ve been using a web application called TeuxDeux to keep track of miscellaneous tasks and chores. During Lent, I used it to keep track of all my missed writing days (although I moved seriously out of date days to the “Someday” tab so that they wouldn’t be so depressing). Once I clear out my past-due writing days, I’m going to keep that up. I’ve also added weekly reading goals. On Sunday I add 3 of each for the week and tag them with the month/week in the title so I don’t just have a list of “read” “read” “read”. I’ll cross them off as they’re accomplished. When the week is over, any that I “missed” will be moved to “Someday” to be picked up on particularly accomplish-ful weeks.

Because I’ll have those. Right?

It was a huge flashback to nanowrimo in November, and my “excuse” was largely the same: pregnant.

My response, however, was not the same. I guess that’s the difference between nanowrimo and Lent. Realizing that the several days of backup was causing me stress (“I’ll never catch up” became my unwelcome mantra), I wiped the slate clean. It’s what Jesus would want me to do, after all. I took the the overdue assignments off my teux deux list so they wouldn’t keep haunting me and started fresh on Monday.

Although it wasn’t posted until Wednesday (it needed some graphics and a test result update, on Monday I started with a blog post about Elliott and my 26 week checkup.

Tuesday just wasn’t happening. It’s hard to make Tuesdays into anything but a rough day, and once I get home from rehearsal (the bright spot, granted, but makes everything else difficult) I need something to help me wind down, but writing is too much effort on a Tuesday. I know, I know. Hanging out in the desert being tempted by the devil wasn’t too much effort for Jesus, but still. He’s Jesus. I’m not.

Wednesday I went to the zoo and although I didn’t technically write fiction, I did spend a good half hour or so hanging out in the lakeside cafe plotting a crazy novel. I’ve decided it counts, since it was a dense 3 pages of notes and lots of character motivation and logistics got worked out. In short, it was a solid half hour of writing.

I also made this entertaining note, which isn’t a “story” but is longer than what twitter would have allowed me to say:

Today I watched what looked like a battle if the sexes, but may have just been sea lion vs. seals. I’m fairly certain that only sea lions hang out in this pool, but I have vague memories of a zoo keeper saying differently during a feeding time lecture. Anyway, three females (or seals) were sunning themselves on the main rock formation. The Alpha Male (or the lone sea lion) hops out of the water and starts barking up a storm, basically telling the girls to get off his rock and out of his way so he can have his seat back. In his defense, he had been there earlier, by himself, and when he went for a swim, the girls jumped at the opportunity for some sunbathing. The Alpha Female (who was sunning herself on the highest point) turns to the other girls (who are shifting to make room for the guy without so much as a complaint) and starts barking at them. I’m guessing she told them to hold thief ground, because they stop making room and go back to sunning. The Alpha Male starts to bark at the Alpha Female, but he eventually concedes and worms his way into some of the free space on the rock. Clearly discontent, he picks his head up every so often to bark or snort or wiggle around on the uneven surface he’s been resigned to. The crowd gets a kick out of it (most haven’t been there for the whole show) but the girls on the rock generally ignore him.

The larger brown lump in the center is the boy

It turns out that I’m much better suited to giving something up than adding something in. I can handle the “withdrawal” issues of giving up chocolate or internet, or soda (not caffeine mind you, with true withdrawal issues) much easier than forcing myself to spend 30 minutes each day writing. Last week I was at 7 of 8, but only 5 of those were “on time”.

This week, I managed to pull off 4 of 7, plus make up for the one missed last week.

On Thursday I wrote more fiction. The story I’m working on is one of those self-indulgent “will never see the light of day” deals triggered by a dream I had after playing a bit too much Dragon Age. It’s not fair to say that it’s fanfic, because it’s all original characters and could be anywhere at any time, but it’s certainly not quality and I’m not bothering to work on the world behind the story at all. I’m sticking with it, though, because it’s the first fiction I’ve written in several months and being all secretive and self-indulgent and letting it be the crappity-crap that it’s become is the best way I can get back into fiction writing.

My hope is by the end of Lent (and possibly before), I’ll be warmed up enough to take another stab at a fairly robust world that I’ve created. There’s still a decent amount of ground-work I’d like to lay before I start writing much of the story. Usually I don’t do quite this much pre-work, but I’d like the story to be more than just a relationship between two primary characters and to do that, I need a web. I’m trying to be more George R. R. Martin and less …oh, let’s go with Stephanie Meyer. It has not escaped me, however, that all this plotting is delaying the actual writing for more nefarious reasons. So long as I don’t write it, it has maximum potential for being awesome. I’m not so paralyzed by this silly dream story, which is why I’m working on it, instead.

Friday I posted a bunch of reviews on Yelp. This almost felt like cheating, since it was 4 or 5 very short efforts that I combined into about 45 minutes of writing. Since it was for an audience other than me, however, I feel like it counts. I was also getting (nicely) nagged by my community leader for not posting anything even though I’d received the “Elite ‘10″ sticker on my profile. I suspect I’ll be going back to the yelp well a few times this season, assuming I visit enough new places or dig through old ones I haven’t reviewed.

Saturday I did nothing. I’m not sure why.

Sunday I wrote more fiction. I stopped on Thursday in a good spot where I knew what would happen next, hoping (like Hemingway(?) suggested) that I’d easily be able to get going. Sadly, I failed to make any notes about what would happen next, so by the time I got to it, I’d forgotten. I also failed to note anything I’d thought about including on Saturday, so I was a little stuck. Eventually I worked it out and made sure to not only end at a high point on Sunday night, but to also write down where that note was going next.

Monday was a big day. Since Charlotte’s at daycare all day, I can sacrifice some chore or personal time and easily make up a day or more. I started with an article for murmur that’s been ridiculously popular. I can’t take even a portion of the credit. I mostly just opened the floodgates for everyone to talk about their favorite subject: themselves. Also on Monday, I made up for a skipped day in week 1 by whining about my easy pregnancy because it’s only 90% easy instead of 100% on my blog about my kids. Kids. The fact that’s plural is still pretty flipping absurd to me, and #2 isn’t even here yet.

And then…. And then I didn’t write any more this week until late this evening – nearly 3 full days later. Tuesday was more or less understandable, since Tuesdays are my fullest, most brain-stressy days. I still could have smashed a bit of fiction in that evening, but I didn’t. Wednesday I have a great excuse for, and yet not at all. It was another “Charlotte-free day,” but around 12:30 I took a pretty rough tumble and crashed into our TV console. I spent the rest of the day (and coincidentally free evening) lying on the couch playing video games while being both shell-shocked and relieved that I wasn’t spending the time instead in a hospital room dealing with a broken hand, dislocated shoulder, trashed knee, or god forbid, a fall-induced pregnancy complication. Any or all of which it seemed I had just narrowly escaped. Especially the shoulder one. Could I have spent some of those hours writing? Oh sure. I should have, too, but I was just…completely not in the mood. I could have dropped one or two in this afternoon, too, but instead my body decided that I really, really needed to sleep. Worth it.

That means as of completing writing this (which I’m counting – but for Week 3 since it’s Thursday), I’m now 3 behind. That’s not terrible, and it’s easily surmountable so long as I take the time to fix it, but it’s … disheartening.

So what’s the problem? Lots of things. Like I said, it’s much easier for me to be tempted by something restricted and walk away for a couple of moments over and over and over than to sit down and say “do this until it’s done.” It’s a procrastination issue. There will always be more time later in the day, or extra time “tomorrow” to catch up when I’m not feeling in the mood. Except there’s not more time later. Or there is, but I don’t use it. Or there is, but something comes up and I don’t have the chance to take it.

My plan for week 3 is to put myself on a tighter schedule and restrict certain other activities until after my writing is done for the day. I also need to up my reading (from not at all to every day – just like writing). I’ve been tempted to modify this lenten goal to be “read or write every day”, but I feel like I’ve committed to writing and switching it up now is cheating.

Plus, it’s a sneaky way to avoid writing, which is the opposite of the point.

“I was in Vegas for the first few days. I tried, but there was so much–”

“Sin?” he’d ask with one eyebrow arched as he jotted a note down with his quill on a gilded page.

“Well, I was going to say fun and distraction and stuff to do.” I’d push at whatever passed for ‘dirt on the ground’ when you’re standing on a cloud. “But fine. Sin. Although I didn’t really sin. I mean, unless you count the gambling and the unkind comments I made about all the hideously-dressed women, and the sips of alcohol and the general gluttony of food and…”

He’d look up through gold-rimmed glasses that he didn’t need, but had a powerful effect on the penitent.

“Right. Quitting while I’m ahead. Plus, you’ve probably got all that written down.”

“Indeed.” He’d set down the quill, fold his arms, and lean back on his throne. “And how did you compensate for your shortcomings?”

“Well, I pointed out the chorizo in the nachos Gina and I shared on Friday…after her first couple of bites anyway. I’d forgotten about the whole meat-thing she does. But it was after my first bite, so i think that counts. And then I helped that one kid at the blackjack table who had no clue what he was doing and…”

I’d be cut short by the arched eyebrow and simultaneous glare through the glasses.

“Oh. You mean about the whole ‘giving up not writing’ thing, don’t you?”

One curt nod.

“I managed to squeeze in a couple of reviews one morning before everyone else got up, but that was the only time I could really write without sacrificing time with my friends or husband, and you wouldn’t have wanted me to do that, would you? When we’d all worked so hard to give Gina that awesome surprise trip. You guys and Gina are real tight.”

He’d be silent, but I’d know I’d scored at least half a point.

“Anyway, I only came home a few days short and I didn’t want to just not-do those days because that’d be too easy of a cop-out, so I tried to make up the difference as quickly as possible.”

“Tried.”

“Well, I doubled up on Monday–”

“Writing an article enabling more people to sin , you mean? That’s how you compensated for slacking on your promise?”

“Yeah….” I’d clear my throat and study the cloud again. “Oh! But Tuesday night, I tried fiction instead of a blog post about Elliott or Charlotte! And that was after a long day and a rehearsal and everything. That was pretty good, right?”

“It lasted all of 20 minutes instead of the pledged 30.”

“Fiction is hard!” I’d whinge. “I was so out of practice and it was so late and I was tired and grumpy and I was still sick so I was coughing every few minutes and driving Ryan crazy.”

I’d hold my hands up to stave off what he was about to say.

“I’m not saying that 20 minutes was worthy of a day running around the desert being tempted by the devil, but it was way harder than anything else I’d written so far this Lent. It was humbling, even.”

“So by Wednesday afternoon of your first week,” he’d say as he checked the tome once more. “You’d skipped four days, but compensated for two of them, which means you technically pulled off six of the eight days, even if three of them were about or inspired by your vice-filled weekend.”

“And I was planning on writing more that evening, so by the end of the day I should have been almost caught up. That’s pretty good, right?”

“And did you?”

“Um…..” I’d look around the clouds for a moment and lower my voice before continuing. “I don’t know, It’s still Wednesday afternoon. I’m writing a blog post where I have a fictional conversation with a fictional construct so that it counts more as Wednesday’s ‘writing’ exercise and less as a status report.”

He sits back again, clearly satisfied, and the gates to the rest of my day slowly open. I exhale.

“So long as you don’t justify that single effort as both a post and as fiction.”

“No sir,” I say as I curtsy in my robe and skip on through.

I contemplated giving up soda completely. I’m already limiting my intake because of the pregnancy, but switching completely to tea and coffee would be a nice daily reminder that I was Giving Up Something.

Then again, I thought, why was I doing this at all? If I was a practicing Catholic, the pregnancy would render me exempt from participation, possibly to the point of sinning if I did it anyway (especially the fasting parts). I thought about not doing anything, but it just felt wrong not to participate. So I asked myself why, when I’m pregnant and “not even Catholic,” was this so important to me? Why do I do it?

The answer is simple: I do it to fix bad habits.

I’ve never been the kid who gives up candy or soda and then binges on it Easter Morning. I use the framework of Lent to help shape up some part of my life that needs the extra “support” of Lent’s camaraderie and structure. It’s like a New Year’s Resolution, only this case, people expect you to succeed instead of give up within the first couple of weeks. After all, Jesus is watching.

The question became “what bad habit do you want to fix?” I have lots of big and little things about me that I’d like to change, and even when you eliminate the dietary and physical changing that cannot and should not take place right now, there’s still plenty of options on the table. There’s one absurdly obvious choice that was so clear anything less seemed like cheating.

This Lent I pledge to give up not writing.

From now until April 4th (I do not subscribe to the “Sundays off” idea) I will spend 30 minutes writing something other than an email, a twitter update, or a grocery list. Some days it will be blog posts, others murmur articles, and most importantly, many days it will be fiction. Short stories, abandoned novel ideas, fan fiction if i’m completely swamped for ideas, poetry (okay, probably not poetry), whatever calls to me, so long as it’s made up. I’m so bummed at how completely abandoned my fictional pursuits are. It’s unrealistic to ask myself to write fiction every day, but I’m shooting for about half of the days to be fiction.

When I say writing, I mean writing. Not 30 minutes of note-taking or character exploration, or hunting down images or loading posts online. Not finding some half-dead article or blog post and polishing it up for publication. 30 minutes of really-real “starting with a blank page” writing.

Happy Lent!

(And yes, this post is today’s effort)

I’m a little bit pregnant, and unfortunately for nanowrimo, it’s the stage of pregnancy where I’m at my most exhausted and my most unmotivated. To say nothing of the 24/7 nausea that prevents me from doing much of anything except willing it to go away. I tried fitting writing in with everything else that was happening. I tried sacrificing what i could in favor of writing, because that’s what nanowrimo is about.

It just wasn’t working, and instead of being something that i was looking forward to, nanowrimo was becoming something that was adding another level of stress to my life when i really didn’t need it. It’s not likely I’ll get out of this phase until sometime in december, so “waiting for it to get easier” wasn’t an option, either.

I think it would have been different if i’d been more invested in my story. I can’t pretend that’s not also a factor in quitting. I’m just not into it. All stories come from outside inspiration, but there’s something that gets “hooked” internally to make it work. This novel has been lacking that, so far. It just feels like I’m assembling a puzzle into something that looks like a novel but isn’t right. In order to make the novel work, I have to invest much more into it, and like i said, I don’t really have the time right now. Maybe in my second trimester, when things are supposed to get easier before they get umpossible again, I’ll host a personal nanowrimo.

This doesn’t mean you get to quit. Far from it. Unless you’re also hiding a life-altering medical condition, you keep plugging away. I’m still going to be a cheerleader, so look for a post on murmur.com in the next couple of days about how to get past the ides of November.

10,398 words and out.

Except me.

For some reason, I feel like I’m not going to get through it this year. For the past few days, I’ve been blaming my story. It feels weak, and I’m worried it’s not going to be enough to propel me though the month or that once I cross over to the not-real world, that I’ll be completely stuck without motivation or direction. I’m worried that it’s going to feel cliched or that it’ll have some sort of “direct to disney family movie night” feel to it. I don’t know. It’s not like I’m expecting it to be the next Neverending Story, really.

Here’s the gist of the idea: A 12-year-old city-dwelling girl’s mother is remarrying and they’ll be moving out to the suburbs. She doesn’t want to go. She wants her father (who is either a jet-setter or works for doctors without borders) to come back and taker her with him, but he cannot. While packing (i think), she discovers a letter from her paternal grandmother (or a collection of letters from her father?) that her mother has kept from her. It also contains a charm of some sort. Furious that her mother has kept this from her, she runs (with her adorable great dane that her father gave her 4 years earlier) to her favorite spot in the park to mull things over. While mulling, a strange raccoon-like creature snatches the charm and runs off with it. She follows, only to go “through the rabbit hole” of sorts and into a crazy fantasy world where the first thing she notices is that her faithful companion is now a talking horse. Adventure quickly follows (the specifics and the initial motivation are still a mystery to me – as is the look and feel of the world). By the end of the tale she learns that she’s from this world (and probably royalty) but that she must return to the “normal” world and go about her business at least for the bulk of every year. Until the next book anyway. The mother may or may not meet up with her at some point. There will likely be a semi-shady character who ends up being her uncle (the bald guy from those dreams), but beyond that, most of the fantasy world is undefined. It’s clearly “real”, though. Not like Oz or Fantasia, where it’s possible the kid is just batshit. I think I want her to end up rescuing her father in some fashion, but that seems a bit too “Golden Compass” for me.

….You know what? I think I feel better. I don’t think it’s the story anymore, or at least, after writing it out, the story sounds kind of interesting. Maybe I’m just afraid of writing a “young adult” novel because that means i can’t get all sexy and curse-y and violent…y. I should probably see what my friend the internet has to say about writing novels for a teen audience to set my mind at ease and go flesh out that outline and such.

Like last year, I’ll try to post a few times a week to let you know how I’m doing. No staying up past midnight to get a jump start on this year. I’m still recovering from a rather brutal cold and my stamina just isn’t up to speed yet.

My favorites include a Gossip Girl recap where I mixed things up a bit and presented it like a transcript of what’s really going on. The format is a lot of fun to do, and it was such a hit on the site that I’m doing GG recaps like that from now on. I also enjoyed a recent article I wrote about why chicks dig vampires. It did me proud and shot up the top articles list in record time.

Oh Gosh! I forgot about the podcasting! I’ll go add that to the murmurings, too! :)

Enjoy!

This happens every so often. I start craving a specific type of story and I can’t let it go. If whatever I’m currently reading doesn’t fit the bill, I can’t focus on it. I’ve started three books in the last few days, questing for the “right” combination of voice, plot, and character and they’ve all been dissatisfying. I’ve flitted through my stack of books (both tangible and digital) over this same time and nothing even looks like it’s going to be the right fit for this craving.

The solution is somewhat obvious: write it.

Which works. It’s the primary reason fiction gets into and then out of my brain. The trouble is that until I have a better idea of what this story looks like, I can’t write it either. I flit from idea to idea the same way I do with the books. It’s like the craving itself is distracting me from fulfilling it. In the mean time i just, well, I flit.

And flitting is annoying.

High off the ego trip and full of “I did it and survived” endorphins, I signed up for the next one, this time about the new Fall TV season. This one went …less well for me, although thankfully the finished product doesn’t reflect too many of my sophomoric mistakes.

What happened?

Well, for starters, the podcast was recorded a few hours after I learned that Patrick Swayzee had died. How is this relevant? I’ve previously documented how Patrick Swayzee’s cancer causes violent emotional swings in me. I recognized a few months ago when he was hospitalized with pneumonia that his struggle was almost over, and the media silence since then all but confirmed it. Still, the announcement was a kind of shock, and brought all sorts of memories and sadness to the surface of me and I was still in a sort of fog. There was gin involved, i confess, but it was mostly out of my system by the time the recording session started. I wasn’t feeling it, or much of anything at the time, which lead to some general distractedness and dampening of my enthusiasm.

The second minor issue was my teammates. There’s a very, *very* real difference between chatting with someone you’ve been friend with for over a decade and a couple of other people, and chatting with 3 relative strangers. By no means do I mean to suggest that Ron, Conor, and Paul weren’t friendly and supportive (the tape would make me liar if I did), but having Jim “in the room” the first time allowed me to forget that the conversation was being recorded and just chat with some people about the things i liked. On the first podcast, everyone was considerate of my newbie status, almost to a patronizing extent. In their collective defense, I did make myself out to be rather helpless, so as not to set any expectation too high. On the second call, I was treated like a seasoned vet. “Just intro the day in a natural way” made a lot of sense before the recording started, but once we got to Wednesday, I drew a ridiculously awkward blank and nothing came out the way I expected.

In fact, nothing came out of my mouth the way i expected the entire podcast, and that was entirely my doing. Besides the Swayzee factor and being treated like I’d proven that I knew what I was doing, I was suffering from a twisted, self-inflicted concoction over-confidence and denial. Like any good sophomore, I thought I had it made. I overlooked the fact that in advance of the previous podcast, I’d spent hours pouring over relevant articles, crafting and recrafting things to say about the known topics. I’d put the devices i knew we were going to talk about in arms reach. I pulled up relevant web pages so i could quickly refer to them when we switched topics. For the second podcast, I did little more than make a list of the shows I was planning on watching and pulling it up alongside the skype chat window.

I should have done a bit more research on each show. I should have spent some time coming up with concrete reasons why each show was on the list other than “because it looks relatively interesting.” I’m so borderline Asperger that I rehearse what I’m going to say when I call to make an appointment at the hair salon. Sometimes i write it down. But did I do any of that for this podcast? Nah. Why should I? It’s not like i can’t just talk off the top my head like everyone else does. I did it last time, right? Oh, right. That’s not even what I did last time.

By the time the podcast got underway and I’d already had my lack-of-preparedness slap me in the face a couple of times, there was nothing I could really do about it, and it wasn’t until the next day, when my self-esteem recovered well enough to look back objectively, that I realized how much better the entire experience would have been if I’d just prepared a bit more. Fortunately, the podcast was well-edited and I didn’t do as crappy of a job on the outside as I feel like I did on the inside.

Next time I get invited and make the cut, though, I’m going to be better. I’ll do my research, or only sign up when I’m so knowledgeable about the topic that I don’t have to pre-write an essay.

Assuming there is a next time, natch. If not, I can just start my own. :)