29 october 2001 -
04 november 2001
 
 
 
 
 

 
01 November 2001
 

Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye

Lemme just say when it comes to boys and crying and wolves... it sucks to be the boy! So all my clever doctoring of photos, emails, and general trickery finally catch up to me and bite me in the you-know-what when I'm actually being honest. I was surfing the internet for information on scarlet tanagers (long story... I'll spare you) and realized it was the white rabbit hour. I sent a message at 12:03am and Kristen NEVER got it... worse still, she claims to have won several hours later! I've sent her screen captures from my "sent" mail to show it actually went out, but she doesn't trust that the image hasn't been doctored... It's like the old "the check is in the mail" expression... who really believes that? Damn! Wha-do-I-do?


 
31 october 2001
 

Tomorrow.

Call us crazy and devilishly daring, but starting tomorrow, LA Michael and I each sit down to write our own 50,000 word novel by the end of November. That's 1,667 words a day, if you write every day. Which is roughly six to seven pages double spaced in Word 2000 a day, if you write every day. Which is roughly two to three hours of solid writing time without editing or erasing or doubting or cowering to your fear that what you're writing is complete shit a day, if you write every day.

And it makes it even more words, even more pages, and even more hours a day if you can't write every day. Like when you're road tripping to Richmond, Virginia with your friend Erika for a weekend. And when you're taking a week's worth of leisurely vacation in the middle of the month. And when you're going home for a long weekend double celebration that combines Thanksgiving with your mom and dad's 50th wedding anniversary.

Which, I believe, makes me certifiably insane. If not that, definitely delusional.

So expect emails to go unreturned. Expect phone calls to be met with my "Blame It on the Bossa Nova" outgoing voice mail message. But whirlygirl... whirlygirl will live on. Supposedly.

When I signed up for NaNoWriMo! earlier this month, I asked Todd if he would be willing to take the reigns of whirlygirl for 30 days so that I could get down to the business at hand. Concentrate my energy on plotless stories and random filler dream sequences and all of the other back-of-the-cereal-box content that's going to go into making my 50,000 word novel. I told him that he would have complete control and a captive audience. And when that didn't work, I reminded him that he would have editing access to the white rabbit results for the entirety of his pitiful past year. He was sold.

So I'm off to tell a story. And we'll catch up again in December after my 50,000 words, endless streams of red wine, and amazing sense of accomplishment. Check my word count as I go and send me your words of inspiration when you can. Lots of words. Preferably with characters and a plot that are easily copied and pasted into a Word file. Believe me, I'll need all the help I can get.

 
 
 
2001:11:01:11:20
2001:10:31:17:04
 
 
01 november 2001
31 october 2001