A very snowy daily sketch.

 

Today was free draw on r/sketchdaily. I'm a little late getting it out since I ran out this afternoon without my sketchbook. I'm trying to get into the holiday spirit which thus far has managed to completely elude me. Suffering from a massive headache and trying to draw with dimmed lights while watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is totally not helping either.

In a wierd twist Chloe Bennet from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. did an AMA today.

Looking toward December.

In the last couple of days of November after finishing NaNoWriMo, I've gone back and picked up a scifi short story I had started to write. This story had been intended for a series of short stories based on the range of human emotional states. Here's a little taste from "The Torment of Ethan Stone" for your entertainment:

The most dangerous thing a mind can do is become complacent. Fear takes root in the soil of uncertainty. Even the silhouette of the unknown man outside the gallery held seeds of doubt. The sound of the door opened and slammed shut vexing a startled Ethan Stone. He dug his way out of the pile of books on his workspace, and hit the buttons to log out of the office on his way into the gallery. A fifth century jar wobbled as he brushed past it. He steadied the jar with a smooth motion that carried his momentum toward the gentleman that had just entered the gallery. He greeted the man with a hearty “good afternoon.”

“I like the glasses,” the man replied. “They’re a nice touch. You just don’t see them anymore.”

Ethan thanked him. His glasses like all the other items in his gallery were relics of times gone by. Most people were content to focus on what is rather than what was. Ethan and his visitors however were curious with how people lived in the times before. Even as a child he would marvel at the conveniences around him. Always asking “what if” to the point his parents would simply shrug and turn back to their own conversations.

The gentleman picked up the ball and fumbled with the rough surface. He tossed it upwards lightly. Ethan's heart skipped s beat. The ball came to rest in the man’s hand and he glanced at Ethan. "How much?"

Ethan puzzled at the question. Of all the objects in the gallery why would the man want the crude rubber ball. Ethan had read about the games. Many ended in injuries, many life threatening. A ten pound projectile hurled at amazing speeds that snapped bone and crushed organ. They were remnants of a brutal past, before society evolved. Ethan could barely imagine not wearing even minimal protective padding.

The story goes on to tell about the exploits of Ethan and his mysterious visitor as they enter the world of illegal sports in world where risk is the ultimate four letter word. Will Ethan keep his comfortable life where his ever need is taken care of? Or will Ethan fall victim to his curiosity and the thrill of the adrenalin rush?

I should be finished with Torment today and that gives me December to work on some shorts. I want to do a few winter or Christmas stories. I may split them up into a few genres. I definitely want to do a scifi short. I had wanted to do a scifi story involving snow and snow men but Dr. Who stole my thunder on that one with last years Christmas special. I'm not completely giving up on the idea, but I will need to do some massive restructuring of the idea.

I'll keep some updates going on my brainstorming progress during the first week on so in December. If you're not sure where to go after NaNo you should be able to pick up some tips here.

As far as revisions go I may do some revisions to the Torment short story. I would love to send it out to a lit magazine in the early months of 2014. The Eternal Wager (my Nano Project) will not be taking any active place in my December workspace.

Incubation.

Writers are mother hens. It's so easy to get emotionally wrapped up in the stories. Writing something and stowing it away in a file feels like leaving a story without an ending. However, there's a certain beauty in letting go, if only temporarily. Just like eggs stories need time to grow. Ideas need to simmer.

I just finished writing my NaNo project and I've already compiled a list of problems I've found without rereading. It's tempting to go back and reread the whole novel once I realize I've left things out or changed something halfway through. Instead I've been taking notes in a separate file. It's import to get those concerns out in a concrete form, however it also import to develop some detachment from the work.

So my advice to you is to enjoy December. Go spend time with the family and friends who thought you were dead in November while you were locked up in those 1,667 words a day. Save those desires to reread and edit for when the doldrums of January set in.

Try this easy experiment:

1. Write a short story today. Print out a copy and put it away somewhere. Put it away for seven days. Don't touch it until those seven days are up. 
2. Revise it. Print it out again. Put both copies away for seven days. You may notice some plot holes you didn't see or some glaring errors in your sentence construction.
3. Make a third draft. Finalize your revisions on the work. By this time you should be able to just polish it and clean up smaller errors.
4. After you've made the final set of corrections go back and reread each of the drafts. Notice how the work improved each time. Note the difference between the first draft and the third draft.

What I learned from NaNoWriMo.

This is what a month of writing every day looks like. It's not at all what I expected. I assumed the lines would be nice and even with a few jumps here and there. I was most definitely not expecting the big dips. There really wasn't much to explain them. I wasn't sick. I didn't have an travel. Those big dips were just life doing it's thing and getting in the way.

I learned that Mondays are bad. But I knew they would be strained. Coming off the weekend takes a toll. There are tons of extracurriculars on Mondays. It's one of those things that can't be helped. Life is going to push you around some.

You see that big spike there? That was Night of Writing dangerously for my area. Those spikes at the end, they were pushing to get done because of all the posts about finishing. Community was the one thing I valued the most in this undertaking. It wasn't the most surprising part. But it was so intensely inspirational since so often writing is a solitary path.

So after everything I'm left with this mass of words.  It's a complete mess. I have entire paragraphs that say the same thing in every sentence. There are dozens of sentences that start the same way. It's not a very pretty novel yet, but it's mine. I'm proud of it. I'm better for having written it.

Sure, there are going to be people out there that bemoan NaNo. They'll say it's clogging the works with poorly written material. They forget that everything starts somewhere. And if one person out of over 300,000 becomes a better writer for it, the challenge was a success. You don't just win NaNo by getting 50,000 words. You win by pushing yourself to get past all those nagging voices and put your own voice out there in that chorus.

I'm unbelievably excited for NaNoWriMo 2014. I hope we make it to 500,000 writers next year. In the mean time I'm going to be pushing myself and I hope you will too.