Didn't You Get The Memo? My Top Tips for Nanowrimo

This post has been a long time coming, but seeing as Nanowrimo starts in eeeep....(counts on fingers) 9 days, I thought I'd better put it out there. So, if you're thinking of doing Nano, you're a newbie and you've signed up or you've done it before (winner or not), this post is for you.

Btw, if you're wondering wtf Nanowrimo is, it's a crazy month of madness whereby you try to write a novel - or 50,000 words of one - in a month. Hence National Novel Writing Month. I've only done it once before - last year - when @aliamck encouraged me to do it. However I should add that prior to November 2010, the last time I'd written more than a sentence was at university. So doing Nano last year was a little like running a marathon with no practice. That's not to say it shouldn't be done like that. Anyway, on with the tips aka "what I learned from Nanowrimo 2010 and how it might help you"

Tip One: Write Like No One's Going To Read It
You know that expression dance like no one's watching? And then you see people dance who adhere to that - some are bad, some are good, some are awesome. But, they're all putting their heart + soul into it. Well from what I know about writing, that's how you should write. Sounds a bit crazy I know, but the books I most enjoy and the authors I most admire, are the people who write with a true clear voice and stick to it.
That's not to say you won't worry about people reading your writing, but with Nano, I worked on the basis that no one was ever going to see what I wrote. Not my husband, not my friends, not agents or publishers let alone the general public. Nope, not a page/sentence/word/letter. Remember that actually, you're in control of who sees your writing, so if you don't want people to see it then uh, don't show it to them. I found that reminding myself of this - and I did most days when I was nano-ing - really helped me overcome my writing inhibitions

Tip Two: Have Fun!
I can see the looks on your faces....how does writing 50,000 = fun? Well try not to take it all so seriously. If you're adhering to tip 1, you're well on your way there....remember if your book/character/plot is boring you - chances are, it'll bore other people. When you're a writer you effectively get to play god :)
A good example from my experience last year was when I got totally stuck. I'd written about 12k words and I knew what I wanted to have happen but I seemingly couldn't get there without writing pages of crap. So I asked my husband what I should do. (Warning: typical man response coming)
"Blow something up!"

Switching Round - Word of the Week

(Perception n: becoming aware of something/The process, act, or faculty of perceiving. Ety: late 15c., "receiving, collection," from L. perceptionem Meaning "intuitive or direct recognition of some innate quality" is from 1827)

Okay, I'm about halfway up a rock face. The ground is approx 12-15 metres below me and I've got around another 6-8 metres to climb. After that climb I have to abseil half way down to a small ledge and wait for husbando to join me. Then I have to use various gadgets to pull down the rope, re-attach it to me, husbando and the rock and then abseil down again. But in the meantime, there's those remaining metres of rock to climb.

Graded at around a 3/4 in the book - well within my capability - the climb is closer to a 5+, something I've just mastered climbing inside, without the added complexity of more than one pitch and knowing I've got to abseil down after. The foot and hand holds are tiny pinches mainly, and my nails (and nerves) are shredded. Although you can can't see my face, I'm crying and tearfully sniffling my way up, inch by inch. After what seems like several millennia, I finish the climb and make it to the ledge husbando is on.

"Well done!" he beams at me. I am not impressed "That was so fucking scary" I am snivelling but he insists on taking a picture. "Didn't you see me crying?"

"What?! No, I didn't. You climbed that really well. There was a lady at the bottom taking pictures of you all the way up, seriously."

I think my facial expression reads WTVF. "Are you sure? Wasn't she taking pictures of the kids?" There are a bunch of them below me, climbing at what I am sure is at vastly higher grade and with a great deal less fuss.

"No, she was taking pictures of YOU because YOU climb really well".

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Huh, even several weeks later, now, my brain is just starting to compute this. Right, it says to me, you think that you're crap and you were crying, but some lady, who couldn't see your face, thought that you climb well and took pictures to prove it. Is this what perception is all about? 

Scary Things - Blog Award Nominating...

So, rather scarily, I have nominated my blog for the Cosmo Blog Awards 2011.....

You can see lots of information about it all here

However (this is where the big favour part comes in)....I would so appreciate it if you would consider also nominating the blog - I know that I have a fair few readers so even if just a few of you nominated me that would be so awesome!

If you do want to go ahead and nominate me, here is a link to the form :)
I've put my blog under the category of `lifestyle` as that's where it seemed to fit best.

So okay, that my big scary request over with, here is lots of *cake* to say thanks in advance.

xxx

Driving Me Crazy...Word of the Week

(Motivation noun: desire to do; interest or drive/incentive or inducement. Psychological definition:  the process that arouses, sustains and regulates human and animal behaviour. Etym: From Latin `Motare` to move/shake/stir, from proto-IndoEuropean meuə-)


I've been climbing for nearly two years now. I've been to most of the indoor walls in London* plus climbing in the Peak District, Portland and the Alps last summer. I even went hiking everyday bar 2 days on my honeymoon. I should now add that I'm terrified of heights. Yes, that's right, I'm petrified of being more than about 3 foot off the ground.


So a) how did I end up climbing and b) what the HELL has this got to do with writing I hear you ask. Good questions - and there are two reasons, both questions in themselves - and they revolve around that rather cheesy, management speak-esque word `Motivation` which is the WoTW. Why did I start rock climbing and in what universe could it possibly help my writing!?


Well, the answer to the first question is around what could drive me to the extremes of paying to scare the shit out of myself on a weekly basis. I have one word for you - husbando! Yes, he and I, are complete polar opposites when it comes to interests and personality types. I'm loud, lazy and un-athletic, he, quite frankly, isn't! At some point in our (now) nearly 9 years together, this was going to bite us in the ass a little in terms of our relationship - after all we'd started to lead almost entirely separate social lives outside of work + spending time together. It suddenly seemed to be rather a concern, particular as our wedding was looming at this point. 


In April 2009, H decided that he wanted to try rock climbing and by jove we were going to do it together. I'd like to tell you that I was incredibly enthusiastic and supportive about this suggestion. But that would be an outrageous lie. Still we struggled on, past our `taster session` at The Castle, onto a 4hr intensive climbing course + eventually began weekly climbing sessions. By the time we'd been climbing for 3 months, I think i'd feigned every possible injury bar none in order to attempt to wriggle out of going. These excuses included such gems as "I need to have long nails for the wedding, so I can't climb in case I break one" and also "I have period pain so I can't climb, it's the LAW". Husband was not fooled, and continued with his cause, manfully facing up to the prospect of endless public domestics + coaxing a tearful histrionic wife down from the top of the climbing wall. "Hold on to the rope" and "Let go of the wall" became regular phrases in our conversations. I think The Castle think of me as `that screaming maniac`.  Oh yes, did I mention the fear of heights?


So anyway, fast forward to 2011, we're climbing away, I don't mind getting up early, *and* last sunday I climbed my hardest climb yet (a 6a for those who have a clue about climbing grades) - for which my lovely long-suffering husband rewarded me with Chanel make up!


So what the fecking feck has this bloody got to with writing, can hear you all hoping I might be getting to the point soon. To recap, my motivation for scaring the shit out of myself was to get closer to my husband. And when you're all that stands between your loved one and if not certain death, but at the very least the strong possibilty of broken bones, then trust is at the very heart of your relationship. Learning to let go + trust someone with not just your heart but your entire physical being is the most extreme way of offering yourself to someone. I can absolutely say that husbando + I are closer because of climbing - because he's seen me test myself to my very limits for him (see more on this below) and because I've learned that despite all my fears, I can trust him. So a very powerful driver is love.


The first lesson then, which can be applied to writing therefore, is learning about what motivates and drives you. Look for motivation outside of writing. What motivates you at work, what motivates you and gets you excited generally in life, why do you do what you do? What makes you think hey! that's cool, I want in on that. That's where you're going to find what motivates you beyond all else and will keep you writing when you want to give up. 


My motivation is love and making people happy so that's what keeps me writing! I love entertaining people with my blog, if I've made one person smile or think or most importantly, value themselves a little more, then I am so incredibly happy - that's my job done. And maybe it sounds twee but sometimes that's the only thing that lies between me and not getting up in the morning when the black dog bites.


Second lesson about motivation from climbing is just bloody putting yourself out there/facing your fears. I know I bang on about this - and maybe I'm just really trying to convince myself of this but what's the worst that could happen when you put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. It's fucking scary writing + doing this blog + putting myself out there for criticism but how else do we grow + learn? And you know what it's bloody empowering. No one is going to reach out and say `Yes, you're special, I'm going to tell everyone about you + your writing` you need to be your own helping hand. I'm not saying be an arrogant prat but just dare a little more, push yourself a little harder. Add a new, crazy character, put a random plot twist in the book - I ended up with a pivotal scene in my book as a result of this. Have fun, live a little - it's meant to be enjoyable. If you're bored of your writing, chances are your reader will be too! Every time you're scared writing, just think about what drives + motivates you and then ask yourself, "what's the worst that could happen", chances are, it's not going to involve a broken bone!


I know that's been a long post so if you got this far, thanks so much, I hope at the very least it was interesting - I've put myself out there for your judgement. I've enjoyed writing this anyway! Don't forget to tune in on friday for an interview with the lovely Siren of Brixton, plus another guest photo essay, this time from Graffiti Living. Plus I am thrilled to announce that I will be featuring an interview with Gaz Parry - 6 time British climbing champion in a few weeks, check out his blog here.


Thank you and good night


Stupidgirl has left the building


* My fave climbing walls are West One in Marylebone, The Westway in Shepherds Bush and obviously The Castle! Other good places to try are The Arch and Mile End. Enjoy - and let me know if you check them out.

Fear - not just a river in North Carolina

Fear (noun) -  distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid. (definition + etymology from here)
Etymology - bef. 900; ME fere,  OE fær  sudden attack or danger; c. OS fār  ambush, D gevaar,  G Gefahr  danger, ON fār  disaster

So yes, fear, it's not just a river in North Carolina. We're all afraid of something from snakes and spiders to death, failure and armageddon. Today's blog post is just a short essay-ette on what lurks in the wardrobe and under the bed. 1,2,3 it's coming to get you....

When i was a child I was scared of the dark. I slept with my bedroom door open and the hall light on for comfort. I've never grown out of this feat, I'm still terrified of the dark - it reduces me to a gibbering wreck. I'm not sure what it is that scares me exdactly - it's as if "The Dark" is an amorphous entity in itself - but the lack of all senses save touch (I'm deaf) doesn't help.

I magine wraiths reaching out to grab me with cold clammy hands, demons hiding in the dark waiting to eat my soul, serial killers chasing me down endless corridors with locked doors either side, whilst spiders and snakes writhe underfoot! (did I mention, I have a vivid, childlike imagination!)

I think it's really a fear of being trapped somewhere with no escape route too - as I'm mildly claustrophobic (no spelunkers on this blog!) and paradoxically, I also have a touch of agoraphobia (from the ancient greek for fear of the market place). I hate airports and huge shopping complexes and municipal buildings with no visible windows or exits and entrances. For some reason I need to know I can escape....

I'm not even sure what I need to escape from, maybe it's more a need to escape "to" something - something familiar and known, which leads me to believe this is linked to a fear of being alone and abandoned, which I think we can all relate to. Self imposed isolation is one thing, loneliness is quite another. One of the worst nightmares I ever had was populated with people with no faces, no matter what happened in the dream. The feeling of total ostracism and isolation was so overwhelming, I woke up crying.

As well as these fears linking to a desire for the familar, the ordinary, everyday and known, I have real problems adjusting to change and visiting new places - these can be very difficult and stressful for me, and I am beginning to realise I'm not alone in this. With the world becoming smaller almost everyday and an abililty to contact people all over the planet, it seems common place for people to travel to extreme far flung places - and the implication is that if you don't do this, come judgement day all these non-travelling luddites will be left behind. That's not to say I won't try new things or go to new places but it's hard, sometimes the adrenline starts running through my body weeks before a change to my routine or visit to somewhere new.

It's almost pleasurable, a mix of terror at the unpredictability and pleasure and excitement at something new. And yet there is no 'high' when I have survived whatever it is, only exhaustion. It is rarely ever as bad as i have feared but I can never celebrate this, there is always something new to anticipate. Perhaps I am addicted to fear and anxiety.

A short survey of my friends would indicate that my other fears - spiders, snakes, sharks, heights, deep water, failure are also incredibly common. Many of them mentioned fears linked to other people - but the opposite of abandonment - a  fear of talking to people face to face, of walking into parties and not knowing anyone. I think we've definitely all been there - a fear of judgement, of laughter and talking behind our backs, mockery and fingers pointing. Which then leads back to feeling alone and abandoned. Linking to this, something that really came out of my 'fear surveys' was not of a fear for one's own safety, but a fear for one's loved ones - in particular your children. It makes me wonder, are all my fears just really selfish and will I change when I have children? I don't know but I hope so.

Sometimes it seems like every minute of every day there is something to be afraid of and worry about. To my mind, on a bad day, just getting out of bed is an achievement. To some people this may seem like such a total over-reaction but remember that all this fear and worry is in my head; few people - til this blog - really know the extent of it, I think the outside world would never know - until my fear completely prevents me from doing something.

That's because my over-riding fear is one of missing out, of being left behind - of a life half lived and all that. Every day I face my fears and battle my demons so that I can wrestle my life into some semblance of happiness and live the life I feel I should be living.

Thank you and good night (don't forget to lock your doors now....)

Stupidgirl has left the building

PS Thanks to all the tweeple who took the time to tell me about their fears, really appreciate your honesty folks. Hope you like the blog x

Facing your fears and all that crap

So, let's just get right down to the point of this blog. I originally started it, way back when in 2009, as a way of encouraging myself to just please, do a little bit of writing, in the hope that I might eventually write an actual book.It would be good to keep the people off my back who have, since I was about 15, been asking me when I was going to write a book. To which my answer was always "Okay just because I love reading, does not make me a) able to write a whole book or b) even good at writing." as this paragraph neatly demonstrates.


However I figured, what if I wrote a book with the proviso that NO ONE EVER SAW IT. Cunning plan huh, write a book, stick it a desk drawer, mission accomplished. Who cares about whether it's readable or whether, if I kept going, my next book might be readable. 


Note - being readable is not the same as being published.......(cf vanity publishing)


So here we are a couple of years later, with a few blog posts under my belt, some lovely people who actually read this blog AND a nearly finished Nanowrimo novel. Hmph, well what about that then. I still can hardly believe it myself but the evidence is on my hard drive - 50k words of a VERY UNEDITED and PROBABLY CRAP  and DEFINITELY NOT commercially viable novel.


In fact that sentence holds the key to what holds me back as a writer - the words `commercially viable`. I think they probably make any author's heart sink to be honest and, having spent 5 years working for a major bookstore and then two of the biggest book publishers in this country, they make my heart sink too. 


My book is based on an idea that I love - and has characters that I love and who do unpredictable, crazy-ass things that were not in my book plan - but whether it'll fit neatly into the supermarkets top 50 is a WHOLE OTHER QUESTION. And not really one with a positive answer, I think. But I still keep on writing it under the premise that NO ONE WILL EVER SEE IT. 


Um, small confession; I have shown some snippets to some friends. I think this was easily the most terrifying thing I've ever done - more so than rock climbing. I have learnt that I am QUEEN OF ADVERBS (sorry is the capitalization annoying you...) and maybe I should cut some/all/99% of them.


But showing it to people made me think about whether, as  writer, am I really challenging myself and being the best writer I can be, if I am not putting my work out there for criticism and feedback? How am I going to develop myself and my style without this and also, by facing my fear and eek, showing my writing to people, isn't this helping me grow a little as a person too - to have a teeny tiny bit of self belief?


So in the name of sharing below is a small excerpt from a project I started (and stalled) working on early last year. I never plan to do anything with this, hence putting it on here. It is COMPLETELY unedited - there may be heinous typos but I make no apologies, this is my writing, warts and all, in public for the first time.


PS The inspiration for this post came from 2 other supercool bloggers: Julie C Gardner and Graffiti Living 'Please Don't Read My....'


Except From StupidGirl's Untitled Project - Feb 2010

“Our time together is running out.” My voice in the silent room makes her jump, “try to work with me on this, it can only help.” Every session to date has been the same. The flickering lights, the chewing of the lip, the sullen stare. No amount of pleading, logical reasoning or brutal imagery has caused her to speak. Shocking events can cause involuntary muteness. But I do not feel this to be the case with her. She is deliberately holding back and, at times, I feel as if she is waiting for me to say the correct word or sentence and suddenly her long held silence will be unlocked.

I gather my papers and the clippings together. It is almost the end of the appointment and I can see that, yet again, we are going to get nowhere today. I could simply copy and paste my notes each session; such is the lack of change each time.  And then something happens that makes this one session different.

Looking back, it seems almost funny that something so simple could trigger such events. But isn’t that always the case – butterflies wings and thunderstorms as they say.  I bent down to grab my brown leather satchel and as I did so, some trick of the wind outside caused the crows flying past to caw and rasp loudly. My patient speaks “One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl and four for a boy,” she intones solemnly, her voice raspy and low from lack of use.  At this point, after hitting my head on the desk in shock at hearing her voice, I am sat bolt upright, scrabbling for the digital recorder.

“Five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told.”