I just read my 2015 Year in Blogging, so I decided to have a look back to see what I’ve written on this day in years past, Facebook-On-This-Day style.
I haven’t published anything on December 29.
But I did find The Fish.
Oh my, that fish. I’ll have to ask my mother if she remembers cooking a whole fish and scarring me for life. I’m willing to bet that she doesn’t.
My most-commented-on post this year was also about food; sandwiches, in fact. Yesterday Ian and I had sandwiches for lunch with a fellow blogger, her husband, and their triplets. We even discussed several of the points I made in that post. Because sandwiches are serious business.
Jesse’s book brought me the most views in one day, but my Listserve win brought the most views on one post. There’s some food for thought; one single real-life friend brought me more traffic with a Facebook share as did my own email to 22,000 strangers. Pretty neat, though.
It’s been a solid year in blogging for me. Especially since I decided to post every day. Seven months in and still going!
If I could just find the time and inclination to finish up my NaNo project…
So here are the first 726 words of my NaNoWriMo novel. The actual beginning part, not the first 726 words I wrote. It was about four thousand words in from where I started on November 1. This is quite possibly the most awkwardly written part of the whole mess. I’m not sure if most of it is even worth saving; I may scrap the whole thing, except a few sentences, and start over. What bits do you think should stay?
I was already in motion when I came back to myself; running fast, as hard as I could. I slowed down as much as I dared, but there were others running on all sides of me. I had to find out what we were running from. But ‘back to myself’ implies that I was coming from somewhere, headed somewhere, headed to where I am now; as far as I knew, I had come from nowhere. I had no past. But I didn’t have time to spare for more than a passing thought or two in this direction. I had more pressing issues at the moment.
I ran; I ran because that’s what I had been doing for my entire four seconds of existence. I ran without knowing where or why, without even asking those questions. I ran because I felt danger coming for me.
I slowed enough to turn my head and look behind me without falling flat on my face on the ground. What I saw blew my mind. Even now, telling you about it, so much time has passed, but still…I don’t know what to make of it.
It would probably be easier for you to understand the beginning of this story if I had some kind of back story to give you. Fuck, it would be easier to tell if I had some kind of back story to give myself, but I don’t have anything. I can tell you what I wore.
My shorts were the first thing are the first thing that comes to mind when I think about my clothing that day. I guess you could even call it my birthday. Yes. I like the sound of that. One hell of a party! And in a twisted sort of way, absolutely true.
My shorts were cotton, woven cotton, olive drab, maybe olive green. Kind of in between the two colors, not that there’s much difference between olive green and good old olive drab. They were super soft from many wears and many washes, the most comfortable shorts I have ever owned. I mean, that I know about, of course. I could have had the world’s largest collection of comfortable shorts before my birthday for all I know, because I know nothing about anything before then.
Have I gotten that point across? I know nothing about my past. I have read baby name books, trying and trying to find some name that rang a bell, and nothing ever does. Nothing seems like my name before, nothing seems like the name of anyone I know. I don’t know my parents’ names, I don’t know if I have any brothers or sisters or what their names are if I do have them. I don’t know my grandparents. I don’t know my aunts and uncles. I don’t know if I have any cousins. I don’t know how many friends I had, if I had any, because I don’t know their names either. I don’t remember my third grade teacher, or the neighbor who always yelled at me for kicking my ball into the fence. I don’t have a real childhood, because I don’t have any of that. And it isn’t fair. I hate that I don’t have any of this. I hate that I can tie my shoes but I don’t know who taught me. I have that I can read and write but I don’t remember a single spelling test. I don’t even remember school at all. Did I graduate high school? Do I have a doctorate degree? Am I a middle school dropout? I don’t know.
And I can’t even guess at a way to find out. I did remember, briefly, in a flash of memory, but that disappeared as quickly as it came.
But at least I can tell you about these shorts. Can you visualize the color yet? Olive green. Olive drab. Mix em up and there you go, the color of my shorts. I have to admit, thought, they were a little bit shorter than I would have expected myself to be comfortable with. I showed a little too much skin, if you get my drift. But it was okay in those shorts. Everything was okay.
Including the fact that I was running with a good thirty other people, none of whom I recognized, as fast as we all could.
I gave myself a week off from my novel, but now it’s time to go back and start to finish it up. I’m determined to completely complete this one, and throw it up on Amazon with my other.
Of course, then I’ll have to listen again to my friends and family moan and groan that I haven’t produced a sequel to Minotaur yet. They’ll be alright.
But the problem is that I don’t really have a story; I have a fantastical journey, but nothing that screams it’s over. I guess that’s not absolutely essential, since this was supposed to be fun entertainment.
Or is it not entertaining without closure? I know I get frustrated when I immerse myself in a book and then–it stops, and I’m left with so many questions, not least of which is what happens next.
But I realize I haven’t told you hardly anything about this year’s novel. I’ve only posted one excerpt, and that one was completely off the cuff. It’s certainly not in its final form. And I haven’t even told you my protagonist’s name: Sinew.
I don’t even know how to summarize this mess I’ve made. I think it’s going to take a lot of work to put a bow on it and send it out into the world. But I can do it.
I hope everyone else has enjoyed their November, whether NaNoWriMo’ing it up or not. Because we’re all winners, aren’t we? We’re alive, and we have internet access. So cheesy, I know.
I just validated 50,008 words!
Today I wrote 10,001 words. A good 10,001 words. I think tomorrow I will win NaNoWriMo. And then after a lot more work, I’ll have another completed novel.
And then I can get back to my regularly scheduled blogging commitment.
Today I challenged myself to write 7,000 words of my novel.
I decided that I would, but then I realized that I needed to tell someone. So I told Ian.
When he went to work, I posted on Facebook. For accountability.
I worked my way through sprints and crawls on the NaNo forums until I was over 6,000, then I just went for it.
Finished today with 7,030 words for a grand total of 27,504!
Also, I used the word ‘braggadocio.’