Holiday film preview: The blockbusters I'll (probably not) see

The holiday movie season is here! The holiday movie season is here!

Okay, sarcasm doesn't read well. Yes, the holiday movie season is upon us. Everyone is talking about James Cameron's "Avatar" and Hollywood is gambling that millions and millions of people will get so tired of dealing with Aunt Sarah and her dog stories that they will flee family gatherings in droves and head to the theater. It's a good bet.

I probably won't be one of those people. I simply don't make it out much to the movies these days. In the past, I never was one to go to the movies often, and now a trip to the cineplex is an incredibly rare treat. I might make it out to see a first-run film once, maybe twice a year at most.

Of course, there are good reasons for this. For one, I'm pretty much a homebody. One of my favorite things to do is to lounge on the sofa at home with Jean on the nights we have together, watching a DVD on our tiny TV.

For another thing, I'm not an early adopter of gadgets, social trends, or any thing else, so it follows that I'm not one of those people who has to see a movie when it first comes out. I'm generally happy to wait to see a film until I can get it at the movie store, or even better, for free at the library.

A few more advantages of staying in over heading to the multiplex are that I can control the temperature of the room (I usually come out of the theater with my lips having turned blue), I can drink beer instead of six-dollar buckets of soda, and I can pause the action whenever my tiny bladder demands. And, of course, there's the cost. A trip to the Rave in Vestavia for the family will set me back a quick fifty bucks, easy.

So it's no mean feat to get me out the door to the movies. A film must significantly tickle my fancy for me to plant my butt in a theater seat. This year, there are a couple of likely candidates.

Sure, everybody is going to see "Avatar" (Roger Ebert likened it to an event movie, like "Star Wars" or "Harry Potter"), and it looks good to me, but I'll wait for the furor to die down a bit. What should be an easy ticket is the new Terry Gilliam film "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus".



Gilliam's movies work best when he's dealing with the fantastic (See "Brazil", "Twelve Monkeys"... hell, just watch anything he's done), and from the trailer it seems that he's headed in that direction once more. This film might just be another "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen", but the cast -- including Johnny Depp, Jude Law, Heath Ledger, Christopher Plummer, and Colin Farrell -- should ensure that nothing like that happens.

Another flick that might find me out of the house on Christmas Day is "Tony Stark Goes to Victorian London", also known as "Sherlock Holmes". In "Iron Man", it seemed like Robert Downey Jr. found his acting niche as the charismatic, intelligent, tech-savvy playboy. The trailer for "Sherlock Holmes" appears to be more of the same:



Guy Ritchie is directing (I wondered about that when I saw the fight scene, and is that Bullet-Tooth Tony I saw in there?), and the cast includes Jude Law and Rachel McAdams. It should be fun to see the long-historic character of Holmes turned into an action/supernatural blockbuster.

So there you have it. I probably won't see you at the theater for these, but you can bet that by March, I'll have been to Blockbuster and you'll find me on the sofa enjoying these two films.

Between the devil and the deep blue sea

During our weekly visit to the Homewood Public Library this past weekend, Jean and I picked up the DVD of "The Deep" episode of the BBC's fantastic documentary "The Blue Planet". After work last night (and following a bit of universal remote finagling on my part), we sat down on the sofa and watched as Sir David Attenborough described some of the strangest creatures found on planet earth (a sample is below):

It was interesting to learn that not only is the sea bed the least-explored part of our planet (more people have been to outer space than have been to the bottom of the ocean) but also that every expedition discovers new and ever-more-odd species of life.

Most of these species fall into two categories: Hunter and hunted, just links in the food chain. At that depth, it's a short chain and the different species have evolved in strange ways to ensure their survival. There are some ugly mothers at the bottom of the ocean, to be sure. As we watched some of the more violent-looking creatures, Jean turned to me with this thought:

"They look so murderous," she said. "I wonder if that's some sort of karmic hell."

It's an interesting, albeit sobering, thought. In my humble opinion, you would have to lead a seriously horrific life to be reincarnated as a creature found only on the cold, dark sea bed, never seeing the light of day, with your previous transgressions manifested in your appearance.

My bigger question is this: If that is a karmic hell, how would you get out of it?

Writing and momentum (or lack thereof)

Fellow blogger (and really smart guy) Wade Kwon made the point in a recent blog post that "perfection kills". Essentially what he said was that if you try to make everything perfect (especially in the blogging biz) that you'll never get anywhere.

But what hit home with me was this quote: "Although I’m not a fan of NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, the event has at least one great takeaway lesson: Your momentum matters... Those who finish their 50,000-word novels in 30 days are rewarded with two things: a mass of sloppy, unedited writing, and the use of momentum to accomplish a once seemingly impossible accomplishment."

In my writing, momentum is -- simply put -- huge. Way huge. Godzilla-like ginormous, even. Once I get going, I don't want to stop. It's a great feeling to get thousands and thousands of words out of my head and into the computer.

But once I stop, getting back on track is damned nigh to impossible.

I'm in the middle of such a period right now. On November 30, when I hit my 50,000-word goal for NaNoWriMo, I decided I needed to take a little sabbatical. A week, at most, I thought. It would give me time to get some ideas flowing for other projects, and besides, I deserved it. I knocked out those 50,000 words in twenty days -- I was due some rest and relaxation.

But before I knew it, one week had melted into two, and the situation threatened to keep stretching until the holidays were over -- and I am certain that by then I could find one or two more reasons to keep from getting to the keyboard. I hadn't written a thing since December 1, not a blog post, work on Committed, or anything else of substance other than the occasional Tweet or facebook status update.

But thanks to the nagging voices in my head, I'm back at it -- even if the first steps are nothing more than some hand-scribbled notes in a spiral notebook and a blog post about how important momentum is to me. It's a start. And like the wise man said, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

I can guarantee two things: Those steps won't be perfect. But one will follow another until I get someplace. It might not be my initial destination, but I will journey far and wide before it's all said and done.

Lessons from NaNoWriMo

For the past couple of days I've had time to think about this whole NaNoWriMo experience and what it has meant to me. I think it is a wonderful, crazy idea to get authors from around the world to write a new novel in 30 days. To be honest, NaNoWriMo 2009 turned out to be an enjoyable, challenging, and -- at times -- frustrating experience for me. I'm glad it did it. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

NaNoWriMo made for a most memorable November, and one I'll likely not forget for a number of reasons. But the main reason is simply this: I have a first draft of my first novel. That was my goal for the month, and reaching it has given me an incredible sense of fulfillment -- as well as expectation for what I will do next with this story of Snakebit. It made me feel like I can be a writer, if I just sit down and do the work. It's a fantastic feeling. I imagine many of the other participants feel similarly; at least I hope they do.

And there were a lot of participants. I remain amazed at the sheer scale of the entire enterprise. If NaNoWriMo signifies anything, it's that there are a whole lot of people out there who want to write. The final numbers weren't up on the NaNoWriMo site the last time I checked (and please don't hold me to my recollection), but I think something like 170,000 people took part in the madness with around 16,000 people "winning" by hitting the 50,000 word mark. In total, there were more than TWO BILLION words written for NaNoWriMo. In a single month.

Whew!

It felt good to be a part of that enterprise, sharing a common goal with so many people around the world. I enjoyed seeing what other writers had to say about the experience, how they were faring, what techniques they used during the month. It was enlightening and informative, and a learning experience in many ways.

Lessons learned

The most important thing I think I learned is that I actually can can start and finish a first draft of a novel in a month. I can have completion, as long as I work for it. This has been a problem for me for years. My writing, before November, was generally a long, drawn-out process. For example, I've been working on my other major project, Committed, for nearly three years -- and I think I've only hit about 80,000 words in that epic. To start something like Snakebit -- almost on a whim, I might add -- and finish it in 30 days is incredibly encouraging for my writing career.

Also, NaNoWriMo hammered it into my thick skull that there is no substitute for sitting at the keyboard and writing. You write even when it's not fun, even when it's not easy; you just keep writing, one word after another. This sounds ridiculously simple (and it is), but I only really got the point this month. The ideas in my head are not going to magically transfer themselves into engaging prose in the computer. It's up to me to sit down and do the work. And it is work. Hard work. But I like this work, and NaNoWriMo reminded me why.

Imperfection is okay

The pieces on this blog may not always be evidence of the following, but I am pretty picky about how I write what I write. It's not the just the story I want to tell, but I want to tell it in an engaging and entertaining way, using just the right words to get my ideas across. This pretty much hampers any pretense of productivity, and such behavior is completely useless during NaNoWriMo. Learning that I can tell my inner editor to take a hike for a month is probably the most liberating thing I discovered in November.

Ditching my inner editor allowed me to get my story down, and that was the important thing. Good prose can wait. The draft I have now is undoubtedly a mess; there are holes in the plot the size of Connecticut, my main characters sometimes seem to be no more than cardboard cutouts, much of my descriptive work has all the flair of and vigor of cold oatmeal, and much of what I wrote is quite likely gramatically offensive. I can accept that. This is a first draft. I will edit, rewrite, and edit some more until the story is told exactly how I want to tell it. A good story isn't at its best with the first telling. Only after the tale has been retold, perhaps many times with details and embellishments added with each telling, does it get better. I have a foundation to build upon, and that is exactly what I wanted out of this adventure called NaNoWriMo.

I could not have finished the draft had it not been for some serious planning and scheduling. This point was driven home right at the beginning when I took off five straight days from writing at the start of November. I planned for the days off and I eventually overcame the word deficit, but not without some serious ass-busting at the end.

So why was the plan so important if I still had to pull off the literary equivalent of a cramming for an exam during the last three days of the month? Because without that plan, I wouldn't have been in position to pull off those last three days. I didn't always stick to the plan, but I worked with it and tweaked it as circumstances dictated. I will continue to use this kind of planning both for major projects and daily work.

All in all, I have to say NaNoWriMo 2009 was an overwhelmingly positive experience, and one that I will remember. I accomplished much and I learned much. I liked it so much that I plan to do it again in 2010.

But that's a year away. What do I do now?

What's Next?

For the time being, I'm going to let Snakebit settle. I plan to leave it alone for the month of December, at least for the most part. I'll walk away from it and come back to it for editing and rewriting when January comes. I'll admit that I probably won't walk too far away from it; I had an idea while I was taking shower this morning that filled up a big plot hole and I ran to the computer, still dripping wet, to get it down before it flitted away. I have committed to not reading the draft until at least January 1. Then I'll get back to work, and I'm shooting to have a manuscript ready to submit to potential publishers by March 1.

I'll also be getting back to work on Committed, putting up episodes on a more regular basis than readers have been used to seeing in the past. I learned quickly during NaNoWriMo that I can crank out some verbage when I just sit down and type. This should help a lot with the episodic nature of Committed. And that story is about to start being all kinds of silly fun, not only to read, but also to write. I sense some serious craziness about to happen for Tal and Liv and the bunch.

I'm also considering making some changes to my website; it's been static for too long, and I want to try some new ideas to get things hopping over there. Content will be a priority, but I also want to look at some technical things. I'm also considering changing the site so that Committed is available only to registered users -- this might be a way to save my rights of first publication when I get the story ready to submit to publishers, but it may be too late for that now. I'll be doing some more study on that issue soon.

Another avenue I want to explore is getting some paid freelance work. Momma needs a new pair of shoes, you know? I'm looking to do some short story work (I've got one idea for a story about a new arrival to heaven that tickles my funnybone) and possibly some other articles for submission to a variety of publications.

So that's that. One project done, another begun. I'm looking forward to the rest of December and the upcoming New Year. Should be a good one.

NaNoWriMo Update: Days 25-30 -- An End

Daily Stats

Days 25-30 Word Quota: 15,100
Days 25-30 Words Written: 15,167
Cumulative Word Count: 50,067

Reaching an end

At midnight on Monday night, NaNoWriMo 2009 came to an end. I have been woefully lax in blogging about my progress for the past week. I'll end the suspense early: I achieved the 50,000 word goal, and I am a winner (I have the PDF certificate to prove it).

I hvae perfectly good reasons for not providing an account of my doings over the past seven days, and although Thanksgiving is over, I'd like to share with you my recipe for How to Make The Last Week of NaNoWriMo Really, Really Difficult.

1. Start from behind

If you want to make the last week of NaNoWriMo as difficult as possible, you want to be behind schedule. Take my experience. After renewing my excitement about the story on Day 24 and writing a quite impressive 3,300 words, I found I was still far behind where I needed to be. To that point I was somewhere just under 35K words total; which meant I would need to knock out some serious word count over the next six days. Difficult, yes, but hardly impossible. I needed to add some more challenge.

2. Throw in a Holiday mix

I found that challenge in the approaching holiday weekend. I love Thanksgiving. It is one of my favorite holidays; there is something about family and food and the cool weather that touches me. It does not, however, make for good writing. Nor does an incredibly busy day at work the day before. Add in the Iron Bowl on the Friday following the annual gorge-fest, and you can make things really hard in that last week.

I knew both Wednesday and Thursday would be busy days, so I scheduled accordingly. I set small goals of 500 words on each day -- not where I needed to be, but I would make some kind of progress on the story. It was part of the plan.

Of course, on Wednesday, I completely blew off writing, thanks to work. The day before Thanksgiving is a big day at the Pork Palace for carry-out business. We sell a lot of smoked turkey breasts and side items, as is to be expected, but also a surprising amount of ribs (I imagine I could eat ribs on Thanksgiving, but it just seems very, very wrong to me. I'm a turkey man). As such, I ended up working a double shift of Wednesday, both to help out with the increased business, but also to make up for the shift I would miss when the restaurant was closed on Thursday. By the time I got home on Wednesday night, I was exhausted and had to call it a night without even looking at the computer.

I made up for it on Thursday, mostly writing in the morning. We had great dinner that afternoon with Jean, Caroline, Katie and Juliana, and after one of the best Thanksgiving Days in recent memory, I had ended up writing almost 1,100 words. Good for a holiday, but not good for my cumulative total. I was still just under 36,000 words with only four days to go.

I expected to gain some ground on Friday, or at least that's what I told myself. I scheduled a 3,300-word day, and I was eager to get some good writing done.

Yeah, right. It was Iron Bowl day.

I did some writing that morning, but most of the time I spent on the computer was taken by checking on pre-game information and reading articles about both Auburn and Alabama. Once game time arrived, any more writing I had hoped to do simply wasn't going to happen. I went to work during the third quarter of the game, came home after the Pork Palace closed early, and went to bed. I had written 1,500 words for the day.

3. Mix in new projects

At this point, I had three days left to write and more than 13,000 words to go.
The task before me was daunting. Scary, even. That's a lot of words-- a whole lot of words -- to knock out in three days. And not to just type them into a computer; I needed them to make sense and advance my story. Ah, yes; the story. I was rapidly running out of ideas for the story as well. By then I had only one phase outline completed for one of the chapters, and another phase outline sketched out in a raw form. The rest of the story was wandering around aimlessly in my head, making itself incredibly difficult to find.

But that just wasn't enough difficulty for me. Something else needed to be thrown in to make things really, really hard. Namely, a newsletter and a website.

Not only would I be typing like a madman over the weekend, but Jean would need a significant amount of computer time herself. Magic City Blues News, the newsletter Jean and I lay out each month, was behind schedule and needed a lot of work. Jean is also building a website for a client of hers, a gentleman who hand-builds guitars from cypress knots (more about that later).

Instead of panicking (to be honest, there was a little panic. What do you mean we have to do all this by Monday?), we planned. We plotted. We scheduled. And by early Saturday morning, we had a strategy that might -- just might -- let us get most everything done, if we stuck to it.

4. Hit your stride

Time was slipping away and there was too much to do. If I was going to hit that magical 50,000-word goal, something would have to happen -- and soon.

I guess I was exactly where I needed to be.

Maybe it was the deadline pressure, or perhaps the structure; it might have been the synergy I felt from working with Jean, but I hung in there and Saturday was the day when I hit my stride. We swapped time at the computer, each of us working in shifts that lasted between 45 minutes and an hour, and we each made the most of our time. And during my shifts, the words just started flowing. I was hammering out a lot of material, completely focused on the task at hand. If I got stuck with something, I just moved on to the next idea. Quantity was the important thing here, not quality.

I made a decision to work with the story in sections; trying to tell the story from start to finish wouldn't work. There was just too much story left to write; I figure that telling all of Snakebit will take 80,000 words or more. I took a hint from the NaNoWriMo website and worked on pulling together a decent beginning, middle and end, with highlights in between and the details to be filled in during the editing process.

And it worked. By the end of the day on Saturday, I had written more than 5,000 words. My cumulative total was over 42,500 and I could not only see light at the end of the tunnel, I could also make out the exit and what lay beyond. After Saturday, hitting the 50,000 word mark was practically a foregone conclusion.

Sunday was another very busy and super productive day, following the same pattern as Saturday. I knocked out more than 4,000 words on Sunday, working mainly on the ending of the story.

5. Bask in the glow of success

Monday was more difficult than the other two days, mainly because I almost ran out of things to write. I was happy to type out the words "The End," but when I checked my word counter afterward, I was still 800 or so words short. I ended up adding two more sequences to the middle of the story, and sometime around 3 o'clock that afternoon, I became an official NaNoWriMo winner.

That's 50,000 words in the month of November. For me, that ended up being twenty writing days. And there there is still much work to be done on Snakebit. There are plot holes to be filled, characters and descriptions to be fleshed out, and probably two months of editing work to do. It is a book that is far from complete, and I know it. Yet I also know this: I have a foundation. A good one. My first one.

I am eager to see what happens next.

Tomorrow: What NaNoWriMo taught me

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 24 -- Renewed efforts

Daily Stats

Day 24 Word Quota: 4,000
Day 24 Words Written: 3,300
Cumulative Word Count: 34,861

Renewed efforts

After Monday's realizations, I decided to take a long, hard look at at Snakebit and where it stood with regards to the remainder of NaNoWriMo. I knew I was behind, but I didn't know exactly what I would have to do to finish 50,000 words by midnight on the 30th.

I know now.

The first thing I did on Tuesday was to review what I needed to do to reach my word goal on time. It wasn't pretty. It looks like I'll need somewhere in the neighborhood of 4,000 words per day to reach my goal (not counting two days mostly-off for Thanksgiving). I'll also need more phase outlines, because I'm running out of things to write. So I made a plan, and I'm working it.

I also became un-bored with the story. That happened when I figured out that it was entirely up to me to make the story fun. Throwing in a redneck wedding to a Mississippi stripper upped the fun quotient to be sure.

So even though I'm behind, I feel good. I have a plan, and although it will be difficult to attain, it is far from impossible. I guess the most important thing is that I want this. I really, really want it. I not only want to hit that magic 50,000 word mark, but I also want a first draft finished by the end of the month. Can I get a draft finished by then? I don't know. But I will at the very least finish 50,000 words by the time the clock strikes 11:59 on the night of the 30th.

You can take that to the bank.

NaNoWriMo Update: Days 20-23 -- Falling behind

Daily Stats

Days 20-23 Word Quota: 10,000
Days 20-23 Words Written: 3,333
Cumulative Word Count: 31,561

Falling behind

After a fruitless writing weekend, I find myself in a bit of a jam. I've realized that I don't know where my story is going, I'm bored writing it, and I am 8,500 words behind schedule with a week to go in NaNoWriMo.

A bit of a jam, indeed.

Things all seemed to be going swimmingly on Friday. It was a good day for output, but not a great one where my writing was concerned. I made my word quota just before I had to leave for my shift at the Pork Palace, which was the good thing for the day. On the downside, I had a hard time writing that day and an even more difficulty getting into the story. Most of the time my writing seemed lifeless and dull. I plodded ahead until I went over 2,500 words for the day, and topped 30,000 to date. I went to work pleased but somehow unfulfilled by the day's progress.

Saturday was not even close to Friday's efforts. I didn't give myself a chance to be bored with the story because I had so many other things going on. The day's big chore was to rake the yard before the rains came. Like so many other projects, this took longer than I expected, and I ended up with limited writing time for the day. I was able to sit down and get almost 700 words in, but like Friday, I was uninspired.

Sunday and Monday can both be labeled as NaNoWriMo "EPIC FAIL" days. On Sunday, we spent most of the day cleaning the house and getting ready to have some friends over to play music that evening. I completely blew off NaNoWriMo for the day. Even when I had a chance to write, I didn't take it. On Monday, Jean worked from home, so I did not have access to the computer for most of the day, and planned not to add anything to my word count. I was glad about it; I just flat out did not want to work on Snakebit in the least. I thought I would spend the day working on some phase outlines, but I didn't even do that.

On Monday night after I got home from work, I looked at the computer and wondered why I wasn't sitting down to write. I was falling farther and farther behind with Snakebit; what was going on?

I realized a couple of things that night. One, I was getting bored with my story. I was doing a lot of exposition and introducing new characters, and not in extremely exciting ways. I was in the doldrums, stuck in a literary sargassum, and like the Ghost Pirate said in my favorite episode of the "Venture Brothers", "any way you cook it, it still tastes like hot sargassum."

I also realized that I was running out of things to write. I became a big fan of phase outlines early on in the writing process, but I've just about used up all the ones I've written. Putting it bluntly, I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to get where the story needs to go.

To sum up: My story is boring me. I'm not sure where I'm headed. And I'm 8,500 words behind schedule with more than 18,000 words to write in one week.

I'm not going to panic. I think this is exactly where I need to be right now. More to come.

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 19 -- Seeking motivation

Daily Stats

Day 19 Word Quota: 2,500
Day 19 Words Written: 1,402
Cumulative Word Count: 28,228

Seeking motivation

Following Wednesday's less-than-stellar output on Snakebit, I decided on Thursday morning that what I needed was some good motivation. So I searched. And searched. And searched some more, until I found good stuff!

Some of the best came from the staff at NaNoWriMo. These people are incredibly encouraging, not to mention funny. They send out weekly "Pep Talk" e-mails which challenge, boost, and encourage all the NaNoWriMo participants. They tend to be humorous, and they usually speak directly to whatever it is I am experiencing at the moment.

This week's pep talk was a good one, but what really intrigued me was one from 2007 by Neil Gaiman (of Sandman and Eternals fame). I'm not quite sure how I happened upon it, but I'm glad I did, because he spoke to the work angle of writing a novel. To quote:

"You write. That's the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat."

I needed to hear that.

In addition to Pep Talks From Writers Better Than I, the people at NaNoWriMo also put up some helpful videos, like this one describing Week Three of the bit of madness that is NaNoWriMo.

I also found motivation in an unexpected place. I'll admit up front that Wesley Crusher was not my favorite character in "Star Trek: The Next Generation", but I was impressed with the blog by the actor who portrayed him, Wil Wheaton. Who knew Doctor Crusher's baby boy could write?

I had been checking some keywords on Twitter when I saw a link from Wheaton' s blog posted as a retweet. I probably would have ignored it, but it quoted Warren Ellis, so I had to check it out. Turned out to be another motivational blog post that said something I needed to hear.

Of course, all this searching for motivation came at a cost: I only got 1,402 words done. But I feel good about it, and there is much more to come.

NaNoWriMo Update: Days 17/18 -- Inertia Creeps

Daily Stats

Days 17/18 Word Quota: 2,500
Days 17/18 Words Written: 1,739
Cumulative Word Count: 26,826

A writer at rest tends to remain at rest

The events of Tuesday and Wednesday made be wonder if taking a break from writing is ever a good idea. I can see arguments on both sides, and I've still not made up my mind on the issue.

Because Jean was working from home on Tuesday, I scheduled the day as a planned non-writing day. To be honest, I was glad for the time off. I'd been busting my hump for six days straight, trying to get caught up on my cumulative word count while still maintaining some sembelance of a plot. My brain needed a rest, and I looked forward to taking a day off from Snakebit and NaNoWriMo.

I used the day to catch up on some housework, write some phase outlines (I apparently can't let a day go by without doing something for NaNoWriMo), and enjoy having my wife at home. It turned out to be a very productive and enjoyable day. I felt good, and all was right with the world. And for Wednesday, I anticipated picking up Snakebit with the same gusto I felt on Monday. I was on a roll, and ready to get back into action. Right?

Wrong.

Wednesday morning came, and the zeal with which I had written on Monday was just... gone. I couldn't seem to make myself sit down at the computer and type. I'd sit in front of the monitor, staring at the blank screen in front of me, waiting for the muse to strike.

For most of the day, she didn't show up.

Distractions and Sarah Palin

I was distracted most of the day, always finding something to keep me from writing. I was cold. I wanted to do something outside. The cats were being incredibly annoying, whether they were hanging tails and paws from the top of the monitor to hide the screen from me or snagging my chair any time I got up from the computer. My inner editor even popped in for a visit, asking me "why bother?" when I know that 50,00o words won't finish the book. Then I heard about Sarah Palin's visit to Birmingham, and that got me to toying with the idea of attending her book signing in true Hunter S. Thompson/gonzo style (I later dismissed this idea, remembering that I have no desire to be tasered by the Mountain Brook police).

What it boils down to is that I let inertia get hold of me. Not writing on Tuesday made me not want to write on Wednesday. Fortunately, I recognized this before it became a giant issue. I pressed on and made myself sit down in front of the computer, getting out 600 words out before I went in for my bar shift, and then knocking out 1,000 or so more after I got home.

I'll admit that I let Wednesday get away from me, and that I only finished a fraction of what I wanted to accomplish for the day. But the bright side, for me, is that I got something done, that I achieved something positive out of the day. It wasn't so long ago that I would have blown off such a day completely. But I didn't.

For that I am glad.

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 16 -- Midterm review

Daily Stats

Day 16 Word Quota: 2,500
Days 16 Words Written: 3,696
Cumulative Word Count: 25,087

Midterm Review

Monday was a big day for a couple of reasons. For one, I had my second-highest daily output since I began NaNoWriMo. Second, I hit the word-count midpoint for the month; a big deal in and of itself, but I think it's more significant for me that I hit it on schedule.

I feel good about this, and I think I should feel good about it. I put a lot of work and planning into this project/challenge/bit of madness. Seeing that magical halfway mark appear when I planned for it to do so is a nice bit of affirmation for the work I'm doing.

I expected these past two weeks to be filled with agony. I anticipated writing into the wee hours of the night, every night, connected to a straight caffeine I.V. and pulling my hair out while I wrestled with character and plot.

Hasn't happened. It's been -- I can't say easy, because it's not -- but enjoyable. And as November has progressed, my writing is coming easier and I'm having fun. I suppose it is much like undertaking a new exercise regimen; the more you do it, the easier it becomes and the more you enjoy it.

Problem issues

There have been problems, to be sure. Disposing of my inner editor was the biggest one, but I shipped him off to parts unknown in a small, cramped crate. Which is actually fairly humane and better treatment than he deserved. My inner editor is a jerk, but I will start listening to him when he returns in January.

Procrastination is another issue, but I think I've finally, truly realized that Snakebit isn't going to write itself. The greatest ideas in my head don't mean squat if I don't make the time to sit at the keyboard and actually get them out of my head.

I also had to get used to the idea that the first draft wasn't going to be perfect. I am certain that the eventual Snakebit manuscript will be something quite different from what I'm putting out this month. I really started moving along when I could tell myself that I'm laying a foundation.

Imperfect is okay (for now)

Knowing that I didn't have to be perfect also affected me in another positive manner: I started cranking out material. I have been surprised at how many words I can get out in a day. The episodes for my other writing project, Committed, also run about 2,500 words each. I would sweat and strain and fuss over those episodes for a week, and often longer. I considered a 1,000 word day as an exceptional output. Not any more. I like that a lot, and I plan for this new productivity to carry over to other projects once NaNoWriMo is done.

One more thing: I'm finding that finishing 50,000 words will only get me about three-quarters of the way through the novel. While the 50,000 word goal is a good one -- and one that I think is definitely in sight -- I want to finish the book. Looks like I'll be upping my word quotas. Can I do 3,500 a day? Every day? I want to give it a shot.

So I am eager to get going with the rest of the month. I'm caught up, I'm working my plan, and I'm going to end up with something I've wanted for a long, long time.

NaNoWriMo Update: Days 14/15 -- Good and Bad

Daily Stats

Day 14/15 Word Quota: 5,000
Days 13 Words Written: 3,872
Cumulative Word Count: 21,391

The Good, the Bad, and the Lazy

The weekend provided a mixed bag for my NaNoWriMo efforts. Saturday was good; I hit my 2,500-word goal easily. As for Sunday? Not so much.

C'est la vie.

I was motivated Saturday to get my work done early for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to watch some of the Auburn-Georgia game that evening, and second, we planned to meet one of Jean's old friends for dinner that night. So it was important to me to get the day's writing done, and done early. And I did. Although I took my time writing throughout the day, by five o'clock that afternoon, I was done -- and I had surpassed the 20,000-word mark for my story.

Write or Die

One thing that helped me was an obnoxious little web app called "Write or Die". This is a program into which you enter your word-count goal and an amount of time, and then begin typing. The program keeps up with your word count, and alerts you when you are slipping behind in your progress. It's a nifty program to help guilt a writer into getting words on a page, and it has a particularly nasty way of letting you know when you're really behind (I won't spoil the surprise if anyone out there plans to use it). I know I will be using Write or Die more often as the month goes on.

Sunday was not nearly as productive. For some reason, I was stricken with the lazy bug yesterday. I was up early and did work on some phase outlines, but I didn't get into my writing until after 4 p.m. There were a couple of naps in between, as well as some viewing of a Venture Brothers Season Two DVD (for inspiration, of course). By the time I called it quits when Jean got home from teaching her yoga class, I hadn't even hit the 1,500 word mark.

All in all, however, things are getting easier as time passes. The good NaNoWriMo folks state that week two is the most difficult, and I agree. But that week is gone, a new one is beginning, and I'm hitting my stride.

It's going to be a good week.

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 13 -- A Milestone

Daily Stats

Day 13 Word Quota: 2,500
Days 13 Words Written: 2,504
Cumulative Word Count: 17,519

My personal milestone

Friday marked a milestone for me: It was the first day I achieved my NaNoWriMo word count goal during the day before I had to go in for my shift at the Pork Palace.

In short, that meant that when I got home from work around 10:30 I was able to chill out, talk with my lovely wife, and indulge in some mindless relaxation (which in this case meant checking out some old "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" episodes on WB.com). It also meant, almost as importantly, that I wouldn't be sitting down in front of the computer, tired and brain-dead, trying to reach my word goal before I could get into bed.

Before I wrote word one for NaNoWriMo, I made a schedule for November that determined how many words I would need to write each day. I also included daily guidelines for achieving my word goal. Ideally, I would get up each writing day, spend 30 minutes to an hour surfing the web, checking mail, updating facebook, and so forth. Then there would be some general housework, with the rest of the non-workday committed to NaNoWriMo before I would get ready for my shift at the Pork Palace.

Ah, the best laid plans.

I've been trying to follow my my schedule, I really have. But I didn't count on my procrastinatory tendencies. I've been pretty bad about doing anything and everything around the house for hours before finally noticing that half the day was gone, and if I was going to get anywhere near my word count for the day, I would have to light a large, hot fire under my ass. By doing this, I put a lot of pressure on myself, and up until yesterday I was having to come in after work and write, staying up much later than normal just so I could reach my quota.

Thursday was such a day, and before I went to work I had somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,700 words done, with another 800 to do when I got home. I was tired and the writing didn't come easy, but I stuck with it and reached my quota sometime around 1:30 on Friday morning (about three hours later than when I normally like to hit the sheets).

The stage was set for Friday to be an underachieving day. I slept in, and got a later start on my writing than usual. But I was determined. I made myself sit at the computer, and by the time I started to get ready for work at three o'clock, I was excited to find that I had done 2,504 words. My quota was met! Done for the day! No late-night Friday writing!

So another day, another word goal met, another step closer to a first draft of what's turning into a fairly interesting novel. I'm working my plan, I'm having fun, and I'm learning about myself as I go.

It's hard to argue against that!

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 12 -- Overcoming procrastination

Daily Stats

Day 12 Word Quota: 2,500
Days 12 Words Written: 2,678
Cumulative Word Count: 15,015

Overcoming Procrastination

Thursday was a roller-caster ride. I began the day with the best of intentions, tried to make a mountain out of a molehill of a plot situation during the morning, almost procrastinated myself into trouble in the afternoon, and finally ended up beating my word quota late Thursday night.

Just another NaNoWriMo day at the Kirby homestead.

However, I am very pleased with the day's end result. I overcame some self-sabotaging tendencies, and because I sat down and did the writing, I am now back on track concerning my schedule. That's a good thing.

Now if I can just keep myself off facebook (with the fiendishly addictive Bejeweled Blitz), avoid Twitter, and stop finding months-old honey-do projects I've been successfully ignoring for time without end, I might just get this Snakebit written!

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 11 - Regaining momentum

Daily Stats

Day 11 Word Quota: 2,500
Days 11 Words Written: 3,171 (!)
Cumulative Word Count: 12,337

Letting it flow

Wednesday was an inspired day. I'm not quite sure why, but I'm happy about it. In that most rare of happenstances, the words simply flowed, without threats of violence to myself, coercion, or deals made with the devil at the crossroads.

To quote Ice Cube, "I didn't even have to use my A.K.; I got to say it was a good day."

And so it was. Even though it took me a while to get rolling on Snakebit, once I finally did get going I found it difficult to stop. I wrote right up until the time I had to get ready for my shift at work (getting close to the 1,900-word mark by then), and once I got home afterward, I sat back down at the computer with the goal of knocking out the last 600 words for the day. I ended up doubling that amount, and I was even able to get into bed at a decent hour.

Of course, yersterday's output is of dubious quality, as is a lot of what I've done so far. I'm not worried about it for now. Editing is for December (or possibly even January; I'm thinking I want to let the story cool for a month before I start working on the submission-ready manuscript). November and NaNoWriMo is all about quantity, and I'm gaining momentum. Watching my word count climb is a thrill; if I keep going like I have for the past few days, I'm beginning to think that I will easily surpass the 50,000-word goal by the end of the month. Heck, I might even try for 75,000. Why not?

I'll be working hard to keep my momentum going, writing as much as possible and making it fun while I do it. Who knows -- I might even try one of the NaNoWriMo "dares". I'm particularly intrigued by one that suggests sending an important message to one of my characters in a bowl of alphabet soup. Sure, it's a crazy idea, but I think that's one of the things I like the most about this entire NaNoWriMo adventure and the story I'm writing. For now, the best question I can ask myself regarding my story is not "why?", but rather "why not?"

I'll be asking that a lot in the days to come.

NaNoWriMo Update: Days 9 and 10 -- Gutting it out

Day 9

I just wasn't feelin' it as Monday rolled around. No sir, no way.

I could not get myself to sit down at the computer and hammer out some words -- any words -- yesterday morning. I'm not exactly certain why that was, but after some thought, I was able to produce some likely suspects.

First, Monday signified the end of my vacation, literally and figuratively. Fun time was over, and I was supposed to be getting back to business. I dreaded going to work for my evening shift at the Pork Palace; I think I dreaded even more the thought of having to work on something that wasn't even making me any money on that day.

For another thing, my Inner Editor decided that Monday would be a good time to make an appearance. My Inner Editor is a crotchety, cigar-chomping bastard who likes to run every writing effort of mine through the wringer -- often multiple times. He was in fine form on Monday, seething over every sentence I read. Every time I finally got myself to sit down and start writing, I would go back and re-write again and again until I could get my Inner Editor to begrudgingly acknowledge that what I had done was almost passable.

My rational self recognized that the situation was unacceptable. I was already more than a thousand words behind my quota; blowing off a full day would be tantamount to NaNoWriMo suicide. It was important for me to write that day. So I struggled on, and by the time I had to leave for work, I had knocked out an altogether unimpressive 600 words.

By the time my shift was over, my attitude had shifted. There is nothing like a crappy shift in a customer service role to reinvigorate your dream and make you realize why you are doing this in the first place. So I came home, and if I was not eager to sit down and write, at least I was more encouraged to do so.

I sat down at the keyboard and started reviewing my phase outline. I got about 500 words into the evening when the story started moving in an unexpected direction, moved by an almost-unknown character. I paused for a few minutes, went outside to have a smoke, then decided that my Inner Editor should very well go and take a hike for the evening. I let myself run with this change in direction for a while, and before the night was through I had written 2,540 words for the day. Quota was achieved. I was happy. And I may have even gotten some passable prose out of the night. I'm glad I gutted it out.

Day 10

Tuesdays are scheduled as non-quota days for me as my computer access is quite limited (Jean works from home those days, and money-making jobs get preferred computer time). I did knock out a new phase outline, with this section focusing on the proverbial fireworks and losing an eye situation. And yes, someone does actually lose an eye.

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 8

Day 8 Word Goal: 2,500
Day 8 Words Written: 1,233
Cumulative Word Count: 6,626

There's nothing like coming home from vacation to have inertia set in. Add in my girls and Jean's two yoga classes yesterday, and I was completely set to blow off the day's writing.

But I didn't. I sat down and hammered out more than 1,200 words, which was somewhat surprising. Not at my daily goal, but better than I thought I would do for the day. I'll do it all again for Day 9.

NaNoWriMo Update: Days 4-7

Days 4-7 Word Quota: 0
Days 4-7 Words Written: 0
Cumulative Word Count: 5,393

Ah, the best laid plans don't mean diddly when vacation is involved.

Wednesday through Saturday of this past week, Jean and I went to Orange Beach for a family trip to visit her parents and a number of other relatives. I was looking forward to the trip, but I was apprehensive to a degree; yes, I needed a week off, but how would I handle NaNoWriMo while I was out of town?

I could have soldiered on while I was on the coast, staying hunched over a laptop in the condo while Jean and her family went to the beach or had some amazing seafood dinner, but that wasn't going to happen. For one thing, I don't even own a laptop and there was no way I would be writing longhand. For another, I WAS ON VACATION, for crying out loud! Through these two realizations, I was eventually able to rationalize not doing any "real" writing -- "real" meaning adding to my word count -- while I was at the beach. NaNoWriMo could wait a few days.

But I wouldn't ignore the project; there is too much at stake to take off that kind of time right at the beginning of something like this. So I made a plan: While Jean and I enjoyed some much-needed beach time, I would knock out seventeen or eighteen phase outlines (in a most relaxed-and-groovy manner, of course). Doing so would give me momentum to come back for my first non-vacation WriMo week; when I got back, so the plan went, I would simply have to flesh out the rest of the phases. The goal of 50,000 words would be easy to reach.

Yeah, yeah, sure.

As it worked out, I did much more vacationing than outlining. There was good food, good company, and I even had an opportunity to visit with my own aunt and uncle while we were down there. Crowds were nonexistent, and the weather was nice -- if a bit breezy. I saw dolphins swimming in the morning, and a sunset that caught the breakers with a light like nothing I had ever seen before.

It's not difficult to understand how NaNoWriMo was pushed to the background, at least for a few days -- except when I was excitedly telling one of Jean's third cousins all about the project.

I wasn't a complete beach bum during the trip. I worked out three nice outlines, two of which come next in the storyline. The third just popped up out of nowhere, and I'm saving it for later on. These phase outlines give me enough material to work out the story through Tuesday, my next non-writing day -- and the day I will work on phase outlines again. Yes, I've put myself a bit behind. But not so much that I can't make it up, and quickly.

Besides, the trip was totally worth it.

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 3 - My planned gamble

It is a calculated gamble, yet one with which I am -- almost -- comfortable.

Tuesday was the first of what will be five straight days with no additions to my NaNoWriMo word count on Snakebit. I have to admit that I'm nervous about this. Momentum means a lot to me as a writer, and with two good days in a row under my belt, it seems a shame to put the brakes on my progress. But it's all part of the plan, a plan into which I put much thought and effort. I just have to keep reassuring myself that it will all work out.

Why the sudden stop? There are a couple of reasons. First, yesterday was Tuesday, and Tuesdays are planned non-writing days for me -- it's part of the plan. Today, however, is when we head to Orange Beach for a family trip. We will on the gulf through Saturday morning, and I expect not to have access to the internet during that time -- much less a computer. Besides, what kind of family vacation includes hammering out a novel while everybody else has fun? I wouldn't do that to myself nor the rest of the family, so I included trip days as non-writing days in the plan as well.

Phase Outlines

However, just because I'm not adding to my word count doesn't mean I'll not be working on the story. I will be.

One of the tools I've found quite helpful is a free PDF download of a book by Lazette Gifford: NaNo for the New and the Insane. The book contains lots of helpful tips and tricks, but one that has really helped me is her "Phase Outlines". As she puts it:

Phases are written out as key phrases
that will bring the action into focus.
A phase can be clues to dialogue,
if that's what the section's
focus is centered around,
or it might be a little bit of description,
or a set of actions... anything
that will make the story move
another few hundred words.

I used these for the first two days of writing. I wrote down a list of ten or so phrases before I sat down at the computer, then used those as buliding blocks, expanding on each phrase until I had said all I wanted to say for that particular bit before I moved on to the next phase. Looking at a blank computer screen knowing you need 2,500 words is daunting; knowing you only need 250-300 words to complete a phase is much less intimidating.

So while I am enjoying the salt air at Orange Beach, I'll be working on phase outlines for much of the story; with some hard work and good luck, I'll have phases written out for the rest of the story by the time we get home on Saturday. On Sunday, I will begin hammering out words again.

So, there won't be any updates for a few days, and I'm going to hate seeing my word count stay the same for the better part of the week. I'm also concerned about losing my momentum. We'll see how it turns out.

Sure, it's a calculated gamble. But I'm feeling like a winner right now.

Day 2 excerpt from Snakebit

In this excerpt, Chuck is revisiting an incident from his early childhood in which he used up the majority of his life's allotment of luck:

Grandma and the professor started running after me, but they were too late. I was on my own version of Mister Toad's Wild Ride, laughing and giggling as the stroller picked up speed.

This is where my luck kicked in, and I was too young to even know it.

My ride in the stroller that day quickly became the stuff of local legend. Verified eyewitness accounts, from students, instructors and staff who either attempted to corral me or watched helplessly as I careened past, detailed no fewer than seventeen separate instances in a twelve-minute span where I should have been killed. I went around corners on two wheels, the stroller straining to fall over but somehow remaining upright as it bounced up and down the sidewalk. I zipped in and out of traffic, narrowly missing not one, but two speeding Buick Rivieras being used by the television bigwigs in town for the game. I traveled through a construction zone, edging along the side of a newly-opened trench, then ducking under a pipe that was being lowered into the trench by a small crane. The construction workers fell all over each other trying to catch me, yet somehow I eluded their grasp, zipping on down the hill.

I continued bouncing down the sidewalk, sending pretty coeds sprawling onto the grass as I passed, their books and long hair flying haphazardly.

I was rapidly approaching an intersection, and at any other place in the United States at the time, I would have come to a curb, ending my ride and almost certainly causing me serious bodily harm. Yet luck intervened yet again. Mississippi Tech was at the forefront of the movement for easy public access for the disabled, owing mainly due the university's history in prosthetics engineering. In the early days of mechanized farming, thousands of farmers lost limbs as the result of gruesome harvesting accidents. Many of these men and women were sharecroppers in the east Mississippi farmlands, and it became a goal of the university to help these disabled farmers lead normal, productive lives. The work with false arms and legs eventually led to research and development for all disabilities, and the university was the first place in the United States where wheelchair-friendly sidewalk access ramps were installed.

So I didn't hit a curb and die. I zoomed across the intersection, narrowly dodging a carload of brothers from Kappa Sigma who were on their way to the county line to get a keg of beer. Down, down I went, weaving and laughing, until I reached the top of the steps in front of the coliseum and stopped.

The stroller's front wheels dangled menacingly at the edge of the stairs. It was a good fifty feet from the top of the stairs to the sidewalk below, fifty feet of cold, hard concrete, broken regularly by steel handrails.

More to come!

NaNoWriMo Update: Day 2

Two days in, two word count goals met. I'm pleased.

And a little bit (but quite pleasantly) surprised.

Today wasn't as easy as yesterday was, but of course I'd been working on the first 2,500 words in my head from the time I started thinking about taking on NaNoWriMo. Even suffering the after-effects of a too-much-fun Halloween party, I was able to ride excitement and adrenaline through the first word goal. Not so much today. It was work at some points, but I muscled my way through and ended up 300 words ahead of my goal. I'm more than 10 percent done. Only eighteen more days like the past two, and I'll hit that magical 50,000 word mark.

I'll be taking a planned break from actual writing on the novel starting tomorrow through Saturday. Tuesdays will generally be non-writing days, as Jean works from home on those days and will be needing the computer. Even though we are both on vacation this week, I'm planning to stick to the Tuesday schedule. It also works out because I'll be attending a class at the Birmingham Blogging Academy tomorrow.

We will be leaving for a family trip to Orange Beach on Wednesday, and while we're away I'll be working on some phase outlines for the story. We'll return home on Saturday, and I'll pick up the writing again next Sunday. I'm a little worried about breaking my momentum right here at the beginning, and I'm also slightly concerned about how I will react next week to having to work my regular schedule and write at the same time. The 2,500-word-a-day goal is just about what I would write in an entire week for an episode of Committed, and I've had trouble getting those out on a timely basis.

(As an aside, Committed is going on hiatus for the month of Novemeber, and possibly a little beyond. I'll make a more formal announcement later on.)

Nonetheless, I'm confident I can do it. I've planned well. If I stick to the plan, and I keep meeting -- and exceeding -- my daily word goals, it will all end up just fine. The story is coming. My characters are talking to me. I'm having -- dare I say it -- fun with this whole thing.

So I'm done with Day Two. Time to crack open a well-deserved beer and raise a toast to Day Three! Bring it!

An excerpt from Day One of Snakebit

For your enjoyment: An excerpt from Day One of NaNoWriMo. In this passage, protagonist Charles Nelson Riley Sturgis is reminiscing in his cell at the Chocolocco County (MS) Detention Center:

I've got a cell to myself, with bunk beds against one wall, a toilet and sink against the opposite wall, and a small chair and desk against the back wall. Above the desk, near the top of the wall, is a small window that lets in light, but nothing else. If I stand on the chair, I can look out the window and see the lights of the Mississippi Tech football stadium a few miles away.

I'm at the desk now, writing all this because I need something to do to pass the time. There's not a whole lot to do in jail, especially if you're trying to go straight, and I am. There's even less to do if you are a near-cripple with one eye who can't go on work detail or even go out to exercise. So, instead of doing anything with my broken body, I'm trying to exercise my mind. Maybe writing all this down will help me figure out why I'm here, or maybe give me some of that "closure" the state psychiatrist has told me about. I could just lie on my bunk, and I often do, but time passes really slowly when you're looking at the metal frame of the bunk bed above you. I think writing down my story will help me pass the time.

I said I was a near-cripple, and I am. The state has determined that I am officially disabled, thanks to two screws in my thighbone that were put in from a surgery I had in high school as well as from complications related to a broken back I suffered three years ago. This means that most of the time, while I'm awake, I hurt like a sumbitch. Today, for example, the screws in my leg are burning deep inside my thigh, my empty eye socket is itching like hell, and my back is so stiff that I can barely do anything besides sit at this desk -- it just hurts too bad to even stand up. I had to take my morning piss today sitting on the crapper like a woman. I'm glad I don't have a cellmate, because if I had one I'm pretty sure he would have laughed at me about that, and I wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing about it.

More to come!

NaNoWriMo ate my life!

It's about to begin: As of Nov. 1, I (and thousands upon thousands of other writers, aspiring and otherwise) will accept the challenge of National Novel Writing Month and attempt to write a 50,000-word novel in a month.

I didn't decide to participate until the beginning of this week, so I'm already a bit behind the eight ball, but that's okay. I'm looking forward to some seat-of-my-pants writing and churning out a bunch of words on a daily basis -- about 2,500 words per workday, to be exact.

My story is tentatively entitled "Snakebit", and it is inspired by an attempted arson case related to insurance fraud that I covered when I was working with the Starville Daily News in Starkville, Mississippi. It takes place in the fictional Mississippi town of Crudup, and I think it will make for a good comic story in the "Raising Arizona" vein. I've got some interesting characters sketched out: a painkiller-addicted protagonist, a Gypsy-blooded fortune teller from New Jersey, a flamboyant pawn shop owner, and a crooked "Dr. Feelgood" orthopedic surgeon. Hilarity shall ensue.

Unlike my other story-in-progress, "Committed", I will not be posting the novel for general consumption. I'm doing this for a couple of reasons: 1) the draft will most likely be unfit for public consumption because of the rate at which I will need to write it; and 2) when I finish, I hope to have a first draft of something I will be able to ultimately present to potential publishers and I don't want to trash my first publication rights.

So, I'm knocking out some more outline and pre-writing work over the weekend, and then on Sunday, the big show begins.

Bring it on!

Paradoxically speaking

Lately I've been reading The Tao of Physics, a book by Fritjof Capra which investigates parallels between Eastern spiritual traditions and modern atomic physics. It is an interesting read, although those of lesser scientific minds (myself included) might find themselves reading some of the physics passages more than once -- or a dozen times -- to pick up the gist.

In any case, the book has piqued my interest, specifically some of the paradoxical aspects of quantum theory. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how light can behave both like a particle and a wave. Doesn't make sense, yet it happens. Go figure.

Yesterday, I ran into a paradox of my own. I'm a big believer in the theory that the universe will teach you the same lesson over and over (and over and over and over and over) again until you "get" whatever it is you are supposed to learn. I believe it because I've seen it happen in my own life. Sometimes it's been a subtle teaching, other times good ole sensei universe whacked me upside the head with a big stick. Sure, there were different teaching methodologies at different times, but the same lesson(s) were taught until I knew them by heart.

So my paradox is this: When I am being taught the same lesson again and again, why is it that I learn something new and different with each successive teaching?

You would think that learning the same lesson numerous times would get old. And all too often, it does. Sometimes the lessons come with hurt, heartache, and sadness -- generally of my own making. But with each teaching, I learn.

I guess it's similar to looking at a painting from different vantage points and finding something new, something hidden, that you didn't see from the previous viewpoint. From one view, you might be taken in by a slight variation in shading. From another, the texture of the paint on the canvas might capture your eye. Even though it is the same painting, each perspective uncovers something you couldn't see -- or simply hadn't noticed -- before.

So maybe it's not a paradox; maybe it's just life. In any case, I like learning something new every day, even if it is just recognizing something about myself.

Headed for the hills -- part VI

Full and happy following a good breakfast and plenty of coffee, we head out of the restaurant and back into the rain. We drove back to the campground to find the camp store open, so we stopped before heading back to the campsite.

The store is nice, with a large porch outside and nicer people inside. A woman, who I guess is in her mid-fifties, helps me with the check-in process. It's easy (they actually preferred that I write them a check), and I also purchased a couple of bundles of firewood, some fire starters, and ice for the cooler.

Loaded down with provisions, we headed back to camp to get ready for our canoe trip. We packed a cooler with lunch (as well as some beer and wine) and filled a dry bag with a camera and other items we will need on the river. Then it was time to head back out.

We hauled our stuff back to the camp office where a beat-up old van was waiting to take us to the river. We were joined by several families who were also going to do some paddling, although we were the only ones headed out on the 10-mile trip. And then we were off through the countryside, driving along winding back roads for fifteen minutes or so until we came to the put-in for the long paddle.

By now the rain had stopped, and we were both practically beaming as we walked down a gentle slope to the riverside. It wasn't long before we had the canoe in the water, and with a friendly wave, we said goodbye to the other canoeists and shoved off.

Almost immediately, we came to a small bridge, then the first big bend in the river. When we came around it, it was like we'd left any kind of civilization far behind. There were no cars to be seen or heard, and no people around, either. All was quiet and peaceful, with green meadows rising on either side of the river. I can't really explain the feeling of peace that came over me that morning; everything was beautiful and verdant, and I practically expected Julie Andrews to top one of the hills and start singing from "The Sound of Music" as we passed. Row after row of fir trees topped the hills as far as the eye could see, rhododendrons climbed the walls of sheer rock faces along the riverside, and occasional flocks of geese paddled quietly downstream. I couldn't stop goggling at it all; I wouldn't have been the least surprised to see Snow White leading a line of happy woodland creatures along the riverbank.

One of the things that surprised me the most was the number of cows we saw along the river. Every so often as we paddled along, we would come to a field where cows, bulls and calves would start lowing in unison when they saw us. For some reason, I was completely entertained by the sight of a half-dozen of these animals wandering around a dilapidated school bus.

The geese were also entertaining. Most of the time, they would swim slowly away as we approached, but one time we decided to head straight for a flock floating peacefully in the middle of the river. As we got within twenty feet or so of the group, they suddenly took flight, splashing and honking, making a splendid sight. It was truly amazing.

After a couple of hours of easy paddling, we decided to stop for lunch. We found a spot where a small shoal led onto one of the meadows, and we pulled the canoe onshore. After a nice picnic, we hopped back into the canoe and headed back downriver.

It wasn't long before we ran into three inflatable boats, each filled with three men. One was paddling, using two oars to navigate, while the other two fished for trout. They seemed to be having almost as good of a time as we were, and we exchanged pleasantries as we passed by.

A short time later, we found a rock outcrop in the middle of the river that seemed to be a good place to stop for a swim. The water was cool and clear, and we had a good time scrambling around on the rocks.

After the swim, we came to a large series of rapids. Our drivers had warned us about these, and suggested that we stay far to the right for the best passage. But I think we went too far to the right, leaving the main flow of the river and heading to the side of a small island in the stream. While we may have avoided the rapids, we ran into a shallow, rocky patch that required more getting out of the canoe and pulling rather than expert paddling.

It was hard work, but after about 10 minutes or so we were back into the main part of the stream and headed back to camp. There was time for one more swim, and about half an hour later we paddled up to the take-out point, tired but very, very happy.

To be continued...

What am I doing here?

The last time I stood on a track at a high school football field was when I was, in fact, in high school. When I was a photographer for the yearbook, actually, taking pictures of fans and football players on Friday nights.

Those days flashed through my mind for an instant this past Friday at the Vestavia High School stadium as I stood, waiting in awkward anticipation with my wife, my ex-wife, and her new husband for my eldest daughter to come walking down the track.

It was Senior Recognition Night for the band members at Vestavia, and weeks previously Katie had pleaded that Jean and I come for the evening. "No problem," I told her, and I took the night off from work to see Katie get her due for her work with the color guard. I anticipated sitting in the stands, watching proudly as my daughter's name was announced over the public address system. I do pretty well as a proud papa, especially from a distance, because that's what I've become accustomed to being since the divorce.

However, things didn't work out that way. I'm somewhat surprised they worked out at all.

Katie had been sick with a viral infection, pleuresy, and bronchitis for nearly two weeks prior to Recognition Night, so there was a question as to whether she would be able to attend. And then Friday came with heavy downpours, making it touch-and-go as to whether the event would even be held. But, as such things so often go, we learned at the last minute that everything was on. We rushed to Vestavia as soon as Jean got home from work so we could be there for the 6:30 ceremony. We got lucky with parking, and made our way into the stadium.

The skies were still threatening as we found our seats in the bleachers, and we'd been sitting for just a couple of minutes when the following announcements came over the PA system: 1) Because of the weather, senior recognition would be delayed until halftime; and 2) also because of the weather, the start of the game would be delayed for at least 45 minutes.

Jean and I exchanged glances, and came quickly to a decision: We would go have some dinner and come back for the halftime event. We were both starving, and it just made sense. We would have plenty of time to eat and get back for the ceremony. We packed up and started out of the stadium. We were almost out the gate when we heard someone calling us.

We turned, and standing in a line of parents were my ex-wife Leigh and her husband, Shane.
"Hey, we're about to get started," she said. "Y'all come get in line with us."

"Uhhhh.... okay," I said, and Jean and I fumbled our way into the group of parents. We passed pleasantries and some confused information between the two couples: Is the ceremony now, or is it at halftime? Now, we're told. Is Katie able to go? Yes, but she can't stay to march afterward. Before we knew it, we found ourselves marching down the track to a spot in front of the home team grandstand.

It wasn't long before the senior band members made their way down the track as well, with Katie stopping in front of her mom, stepdad, myself and Jean. Even though she was still ill, she was beaming. And when she was announced, the names of all four parents were called out.

It was awkward for a few minutes. Weird, even. Of all the situations I anticipated for the evening, standing on a high school track in front of several hundred people with my wife, ex-wife and her husband wasn't one of them. But we made it through. Cordial. Polite. I daresay friendly.

The important thing was that it made Katie happy. And that made all the awkward worth it.

Hitting the reset button on my day

So it's early this morning, just after seven, and Jean and I are out for our daily dog walk. I usually like this part of the day, but this morning I'm not really into it. The sky is dark and dreary, a little rain is peppering us, and I' m feeling more like the walk is a chore than anything else.

But I'm trying to maintain a good attitude, and as we go along, I'm starting to feel pretty good about the day ahead. That is until one of the footie socks I'm wearing decides to slip off my heel and down into my sneaker. All of a sudden, it's like I've got a pebble stuck in the arch of my foot. It's painful, it's distracting, and I'm not going anywhere until I get the situation resolved.

"Hang on a second," I tell Jean, "I've got to deal with this or I'm gonna go nuts."

I hand her Wookie's leash, and begin the process of trying to extricate my sock. It's not as easy as it might sound. The ground is wet, and I don't want to put either sock or bare foot on the pavement, so I'm trying to balance on one leg while simultaneously pulling my sock out of my shoe. The process doesn't go well; I'm swaying to and fro, and I almost lose my balance several times.

Finally, through her laughter at my obviously comical efforts, Jean asks if she can help and moves next to me so I can use her as a prop. Of course, things move along swimmingly from there. Ten seconds later, my sock is back in place and we're back on our trek, dogs and people all quite pleased with our renewed progress.

"I'm thinking this is a metaphor," I tell Jean as we turn a corner. "I can't tell you how many times I've done that same kind of balancing act when we've done yoga. But in yoga, it's pretty easy: there is a teacher showing you what to do and the environment is really conducive to achieving that balance. But the real world is something different. There's wet pavement, dogs pulling at you, and so forth. It's a lot harder.

"I'm thinking the same thing about mindfulness," I went on. "It's easy for me to be mindful when I'm composed and quiet and peaceful, but when I'm full-on into a busy day, dealing with customers or trying to write, it's very easy to get caught up in the business of life and completely let mindfulness go by the wayside."

Jean gave me a look that said "well done, grasshopper," and we went on to complete our walk.

It wasn't long before breakfast was done, Jean was off to work, and I was left to plan my day. There was much to be done, and I was somewhat dreading the rest of the morning. Then my sinuses started acting up, giving me one hell of a headache. After that, the ring finger on my left hand started throbbing (I almost sliced off the tip of it last night when I was cutting limes at work). To say the least, my mood was becoming dark.

Just as I was about to let these things pull me into a crappy day, I recognized what was happening and made a decision. These events aren't going to drive my day. I'm going to be mindful about myself and the world around me. I'm not going to let today be a drag; it's the only day I've got, and I want to make the most of it. All this positive thinking I've been promoting isn't just about words, it's about making positive changes in my life.

So I'm hitting the metaphorical reset button on my day. It's going to be a good one.

Monday, cats, and a big ole list

It's Monday, which is pain enough in and of itself, but today the cats want to play "How Can I Get On Your Nerves?" to boot. I'm not digging it.

It seems like at least three times a week, our four cats get together to nominate the Annoying Cat Of The Day. Plague, the stub-tailed black male, is proudly wearing the title today. He's been banished from the printer tray no fewer than five times already, and I can see him peeking around the corner at me as I write this -- planning more devilry, no doubt.

As such, I'll be trying to cat-proof the rest of my week. It won't be easy. But I'll muddle through somehow; I usually do. For example, I got Episode 34 of Committed posted this morning (albeit late; I really wanted to have it up on Friday, but I just ran out of time). Definitely not my best writing, either. I'll look forward to revisiting this section when am working on the manuscript.

Of course, I will be working on a new episode this week. The Collective will reappear in Episode 35, where we find out what happened with Brandon, Vernon and Ralph after the pissbot attack. This will be a pretty funny episode, and I think it will develop the character of Brandon a little more. We'll see. I hope to have it up by Friday.

Tuesday will bring few opportunities for work on the computer, because Jean has begun working from home one day a week. We're still working into our routine, but I like having her here during the day. I'll probably do a lot of yardwork during the day, and I'll play with some hand-written story ideas.

I also want to start working on a couple of other ideas this week. I want to develop the whole "Deluxe" ideal, perhaps even into a nonfiction book; I'm toying with an idea regarding our various and sundry animals; and I want to try my hand at writing some short stories. Working in another major project into an already tight schedule will be a challenge, but I'm getting better at managing my time. I ought to be able to do this with little problem.

That ought to keep me busy. Additionally, we'll be getting the house ready for the girls to come visit this weekend, and there are some home improvement projects waiting in the wings.

Ain't nothin' fer it but to do it. Gonna be a good week. As long as I can keep the cats in line.

New Committed on the way!

It's been a busy Friday, but a good one. New Committed will be up shortly!

Weekend review: My need for mindfulness

I was thinking this morning about habit and schedule, and how these two things affect life in general. For the past several days, my schedule has been thrown for a loop. I've had a lot to do, some of it under deadline pressure, and I've handled it all relatively well -- but not as well as I would like.

It all began last week, when I started working on three projects simultaneously. These were: 1) an interview with Chance Shirley, director of the film "Interplanetary" which showed Sunday at the Sidewalk film festival; 2) the layout and design of the October issue of Magic City Blues News; and 3) the latest episode of my ongoing online serial story, Committed. I wanted to get both Chance's interview and the episode posted on my website by Friday, which would give me the weekend to work on the newsletter, which could then be at the printer on Monday.

The first part of the week went great; I stuck to my schedule, I made good progress on the episode, and I was able to get a lot of the grunt work done for the newsletter. But it started going downhill on Wednesday, when I stayed up until 2 a.m. working on the interview. There were pages and pages of notes that I transcribed from my conversations with Chance, and I was having a hard time pulling it together into a story that made sense. I woke up early on Thursday and kept at it, blowing off any kind of scheduling in favor of working on the one thing that demanded all of my attention. I ended up finishing the piece around 3 a.m. on Friday morning. I got about three hours of sleep, then got up and went to work posting the piece on my website.

Historically, I've never done well when I don't sleep, and Friday was no exception. I was a zombie most of the day (especially when I went into the Pork Palace that morning to make a delivery), and finishing the episode was out of the question. I ended up zoning out in front of the computer for most of the afternoon, and sleepwalked through my shift that night.

The weekend was no more restful. On Saturday, Jean, Juliana and I got up and headed to Georgia for a mini-family reunion. A good time (and an excellent dinner) was had by all. We got back to Homewood sometime between 9 and 10 o'clock after a three-hour drive. Dry weather on Sunday gave me an opportunity to mow the yard, and after that my friend Shawn and I went downtown to check out "Interplanetary" at Sidewalk.

(Quick aside on Sidewalk and "Interplanetary": Sunday was my first time to visit the Carver Theater, and I really enjoyed it. I was impressed with the crowd and even more impressed with how Chance's movie looked on the big screen. It would be a shame if he didn't get a good distribution deal for this movie; I think "Interplanetary" could be a serious cult classic if it gets just the right push.)

Jean and I relaxed for a bit Sunday evening, and then I got up early on Monday morning to finish up the newsletter for the Blues Society. I spent all day on it, and after a day of revisions, finally got everything uploaded to the printer last night.

Sure, a lot went on, and I busted my butt. However, the results weren't particularly stellar by my reckoning. Yes, I was pleased I got Chance's interview posted on Friday, but the piece was definitely not my best work. The newsletter didn't get to the printer as soon as I wanted, and we're still waiting for Episode 34 to make it onto arkirby.com.

I've always felt I was a seat-of-the-pants, spontaneous, fun-loving kind of fellow. And in many ways, I am. But I felt a little lost, panicked, and stressed out during the past several days, and it showed. Everything that has happened over the weekend got me... well, how to explain it... out of sorts. Ginched up a bit, as it were. Crabby, but not horribly so. Just a little bit off. I didn't really get up on the wrong side of the bed, but I set my foot down before I got up on the other side, know what I mean? Nothing particularly wrong, but I just didn't feel right.

I think I can attribute much of my unease to obvious factors: lack of sleep, deadline pressures, travel, etc., but I am almost absolutely certain that my un-right-ness comes from somewhere else; a place of mindfulness. I worked very, very hard, but without much thought or direction. I got worked up over details and lost sight of the big picture. I didn't breathe. I wasn't "in the now" in any sense. I wasn't living and working mindfully, and it put me out of sorts.

The cool thing about all this is that I can see it happening -- and I now know how to handle it. When I would encounter situations like this in the past, I'd just keep on trucking down that road, oblivious to whatever it was that I needed to do. I would work and work and do and do, with the result that nothing ever seemed to get done... until at some point, I would finally say, "Enough!" and get back to paying attention. As time passes, these instances are getting shorter and shorter, and it's easier than ever to get back into the swing of things.

So, today I am paying attention. I'm being mindful of what I do and I what I want. It feels good to be back on track.

One down, two to go!

One project in the can, two more to finish... and brother, am I tired.

There is absolutely nothing like a self-imposed deadline to get the creative juices flowing. I guess that's why I was up until 3:30 this morning, trying to knock out my interview with Birmingham filmmaker Chance Shirley. His new movie "Interplanetary" has its Alabama premiere on Sunday as part of the Sidewalk Moving Picture festival, and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to get the interview finished and up on the website by this morning. As such, a late night (and early morning, as I was up before 7:00) ensued. I like the end result, I hope Chance liked it as well, and maybe -- just maybe -- it will get a little more publicity for a great guy who makes smart and funny B-movies.

Now that the interview is in the can, I'll be turning my attention back to Episode 34 of Committed and the trials and travails of Tal and Liv Hooper. With some luck (and a lot of caffeine), I'll have that up later on this afternoon.

Once that's done, Jean and I will be finishing up the layout for the October issue of Magic City Blues News. It looks like it will be a good issue.

So enough with the blogging. I've got work to do!

Blues News, Committed, and Chance Shirley

I'm looking forward to today with a "let's get things done" eye. I'm feeling productive, creative even, and that's a good thing. I'm under a pretty tight deadline for this week, needing to work on three major projects:

• Episode 34 of Committed -- the conclusion to what I'm now calling "The Vulcan Park Incident" is coming along nicely. I'm hoping it will be as entertaining as I think it will be -- and it also features Birmingham's own Eric McGinty in a cameo role! Look for it sometime Friday on my site and on Scribd.
  
• Magic City Blues News -- Slowly but surely the October issue is coming together. It features a nice article about Gravy, which will reunite for this year's Blues Ball. Magic City Blues Society members can look for it early during the first week of October.
• Interview with Chance Shirley -- The Birmingham filmmaker expounds on how to make an epic science fiction film on no budget (hint: include a really cute woman wearing nothing but a space helmet). Look for it Friday on my site, arkirby.com.

Now, if I can just stay away from facebook and Twitter, I might get all this done!

Headed for the hills -- part V

It is funny how different people react to different situations. Take Jean, for example. Despite the rain and lack of anything similar to air in the air mattress, see was completely unaffected and slept like a rock for the rest of the night. On the other hand, I tossed, turned and grunted throughout the darkness, unable to sleep for more than half an hour at a time. When dawn finally made its watery appearance, I was tired (obviously) and achy (the result of lying on wrinkled vinyl all night).

I awoke first and found two things: 1) it was still raining, and hard from the sound of it; and 2) a good deal of water had found its way into the tent. Our midnight efforts at dam building in the dark were obviously not up to snuff.

I woke Jean, and we began to clean up the mess, with the rain pattering steadily on the top of the tent. But something happened that morning, something completely and utterly cool: We shrugged it off without a second thought. Where it would have been oh-so easy to start to bitchin' and moanin' about the wet and the mess and so forth, we didn't. We smiled and got to work. This was our vacation, and a little bit of rain wasn't going to spoil our fun! We made the best of it, cleaning out the tent as well as we could before we thought about doing something about breakfast.

Our stomachs were growling, Jean and I both needed coffee in the worst way, and we had a 10-mile paddle ahead of us later in the morning. A good breakfast would be invaluable. We had plenty of food, but it was all designed to be eaten cooked (I've never been one much for raw eggs). My plan all along had been to do all our cooking over an open fire, so we did not bring a camp stove. Even though from inside the tent it sounded like it was raining much harder than it actually was, it was still a very soggy morning. Building a fire in such weather would be difficult; not having any firewood made it impossible. I made a quick trek to the camp store to see about getting one of the handy bundles of wood they sold, but I found it closed, not to open for another two hours.

When I got back to camp, we made the only decision available: We would go into the town of Independence to see what awaited us there.

We got into the car and headed back toward civilization. This was our first good glimpse of the landscape, and both Jean and I were suitably impressed. We were surrounded by steep green hills, many topped with row after row of fir trees, others home to rolling meadows and cattle. Although the morning was gray and overcast, it was a beautiful sight. We passed a few barns but very few vehicles on our ten-minute drive into town.

I say "town" because Independence is one, albeit one with but a single traffic light. My first impression was that it was little more than a slightly wider spot in a very narrow road. An old courthouse sat in the small square along the main drag, and it was here that we turned to see what we could find in the way of vittles. We drove past the local high school just beginning to hum with Friday morning activity, then past a small shopping center with a grocery and a Mexican restaurant. A block or two further, and we were back into the countryside. We turned back around, and eventually pulled into a small restaurant across the street from the high school.
The sign outside proclaimed Aunt Bea's Express, and when we walked in the door, we found the place a good two-thirds full. We checked the menu; it consisted of short-order grill items, much like a diner, with a fairly extensive listing for breakfast items. A procession of locals walked to the counter and placed their orders, including a cheerleader in uniform who got a biscuit before walking out the door to school. We guessed it was pep rally day. A posse of old men sat and talked in one corner of the restaurant; like in small towns across America, the town's elders were holding morning court over coffee and scrambled eggs.

Jean and I got in line and placed our orders, and it wasn't long before we both had piping hot plates in front of us, with steaming black coffee in styrofoam cups on the side. I tore open two small packets of sugar and dumped them into my cup, then grinned at Jean as I stirred the coffee. It was going to be a good day.

To be continued...