Building character

I love the part, when writing something new, when the characters start to live with you. When you begin to think about them like they are real people. When you fall asleep with them and wake with them and walk around with entire conversations, their conversations, in your head.

Eventually, they get on your nerves. After a little bit of time, you hate them a little. The trick, as with any relationship, is to work through that place, and love them at the end, despite their obvious flaws.

Am I a "Gretchen"?

So Project Runway just finished up its 8th season. I don't watch very many shows, but for some reason I keep up with this one. I am pretty much down to this and Mad Men, and occasional episodes of Parenthood. I usually catch the shows on demand and my cable programmer hasn't picked up the finale yet, so I haven't seen it. I do know who the winner is, thanks to these here internets. Apparently, this year's winner is very controversial.

Collections aside, no one really liked this gal. Not the people on the show, not the people watching, maybe not even Tim Gunn. Her nickname was wretchen. The thing is, I really don't see what the big deal was. She was opinionated, but it seemed to me, to stem from her passion around design. From a fashion standpoint she had a really strong point of view.

On one show, she got stuck in one of those I should stop talking moments while standing up for a group project before being prodded by the judges to pick out a loser. She ended up completely contradicting herself, but in fairness, no one else spoke up either and they totally put her on the spot. There was another episode where the designers had to make clothes for Heidi Klum's new sports line, Gretchen mentions to Heidi, "I made what I thought was missing from the collection." During judging, Heidi got snippy. Who was Gretchen to tell her what was missing? An aspiring designer trying to bring something useful to the table, that's who.

Anyway, I am not one of those people to go on and on about a television show and we all know that reality programs are the opposite of real. But I found myself feeling sorry for this chick. She's a little outspoken, takes herself too seriously, likely to be the first person to speak in a group (a little too often), bossy, but also tenderhearted, and genuine, someone who tries to learn from her mistakes. Just like me.

Am I a Gretchen? Yikes.

Wisdom from Walden Pond

Today I took a little field trip to Walden Pond. I thought, before I went, that it might be one of those places that wouldn't meet expectations. I was wrong. Of course, it is quite stunning. I don't think I have ever seen pond water quite so clear. In the south, the ponds are brackish, soupy.

And yes, the whole idea of Walden seems wonderful. The little cabin in the woods with a stove and a patch of beans and time to write. Before I had kids, it might have seemed a little too pioneeresque, too austere, but now I get it. Lock me up alone in the little house in the woods with my laptop and a case (or two) of wine. Not for two years certainly, but maybe for the weekend.

I walked the perimeter of the pond stopping at various vantage points to take in the scenery. Near the end of the loop there is a site near the original cabin, where people leave stones. A couple was there, placing stones in a little pile.

"Don't you want to leave yours with mine so they can be together?" The woman asked. The guy picked up his pile and put them around hers, making a little stack about three stones high.

"Are you sure you want to take that chance?" she asked, referring to the stack he'd made, "They might all fall." He shrugged and she reached down to rearrange his stack.

Geez lady, I thought, just let him put his rocks where he damn well pleases. And then I realized that the whole scenario, and the reason she irritated me, reminded me of myself.

Come closer, be with me, but do it on my terms.

I was thinking the whole way around the pond, that I wanted to come back with Hubs. Soon, before it gets too cold and just the two of us without the kids. Maybe I'll pack a picnic, some soup in a thermos, and show him the loop. I'll start us out in the direction so that the end of the path will take us to the cabin site, just so he gets the full experience, the building up to it.

But then, when we get there I'll give him his own space. I'll watch him pile his rocks anywhere he wants. Or not at all, that's okay too.

Come closer. Just be with me.

"Why can't we all just be smart?"

Writing might be making me fat. Okay, not the writing exactly, more like the hand stuffing cookies, tiny bits of halloween candy, bites of crackers, and whatever else happens to be nearby while I am writing, editing, rewriting. For the last few weeks, I've been working on a short story for my fiction class. I'll sit at the kitchen table pecking away at it and before I know it, bam, a half boxes of crackers is gonzo. Not to mention the sitting. See that's how you do it, sitting down. I've tried, but you can't write standing up. You can, however, write while eating snacks.

So the writing might be improving as the waistline is expanding. And this month I am staring down 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo. How many extra pounds does that equal?

It reminds me of a conversation I had with another writer friend about all the plastic surgery among women our age. We were wondering how these gals, also busy mothers, possibly had the time to maintain the teeth whitening, the botox, the highlights, the nails. "Why do we have to be pretty?" she lamented, "Can't we all just be smart?"

We can be smart. And our book jacket headshots can always be photoshopped.

Though, I might be getting a little ahead of myself.

Ready, set, write

So National Novel Writing Month, also known as NaNoWriMo starts today. 50,000 words in 30 days. Last year I made it to 30,000 and this year, I really want to get to the 50K.

I've had this idea for a book, started writing it, stopped, changed the voice, started again. Maybe it's not such a great story, but I am kind of stuck with it until I really get it down on paper. Anyway, I decided to start over on it. Same basic premise, keeping the title, but writing everything else from scratch and not reusing any of the old stuff (which is against the spirit of NaNoWriMo anyway). Maybe I will be able to get it out this time. And hey, don't you always read that a writer rarely gets his or her first book published. If I can finally knock out my first (albeit crappy) one, I'll just be that closer to brilliance.

I have a plan. Wish me luck.