Tuesday 11/27/2012 5pm or this writer’s therapy session

I haven’t blogged much in November. I haven’t forgotten about you, but between a weekend out of town for my niece’s Bat Mitzvah, Thanksgiving and NaNoWriMo, time for stretching my creative blog chops are limited.

In terms of NaNoWriMo, I have fought creative blanks and cliches.  I have failed more often than I’ve succeeded.  The goal is to write 1667 works per day, 50k for the month.  Of course you already knew that.  At the moment I’m at 33,200 words, which is about 1229 per day.  Or in other terms, on average I fell 437 words short per day.  I now have 3.5 days to make up for those 27 days of missing 437 words. or in other words a shit ton.

I have fallen into a trap. I can see where my novel, for now I am told I am a novelist, is and where the next scene probably is.  I also have two scenes well formed in my mind.  I don’t have an ending.  It will probably end similarly to Monty Python and the Holy Grail, with a police raid and general chaos  Yes I worry how to end it. I have three endings in mind. On a scale of 1-10, the best is a 3.  You might have thought I’d have figured this out well in advance.  You in the back?  Yes you are correct, that would be a no.

Then there is the title.  When I set up the NaNoWriMo details, I called my novel, for it is MY NOVEL even unfinished, Urban Hopscotch.  Four weeks ago I decided that title sucked.  There was no hopscotch and there were no jacks.  Hell, it was only marginally urban.  But there are hobos.  Let’s be honest, if you look close enough, there are hobos everywhere, so they may as well have been in my book.  For now it is called — wait for it– Untitled.  Unlike Tyrese, I do not have a 6-pack.  Most of you have at one time or another  requested I keep my shirt on.  Its on now and will be for a while.

They say write what you know.  What do I know?  Music, Food, Commuting, Random Drivel, Technology, Books, San Francisco. Stuff. Things.  I like sex, but for god’s sake we all know I  know very little about it.  No my book won’t be porn.  Maybe it should have been.  I’ll tell you a secret — a good sex scene is very hard to write.  I stopped trying. It’s much easier to have people cuddle.  It’s what we do most of the time isn’t it?  

See Dick undress. Undress Dick! Undress!

See Jane undress.  Undress Jane! Undress!

See Dick and Jane run to the bedroom. Run! Run! Run!

See Dick and Jane cuddle. Cuddle! Cuddle! Cuddle.

the end.  

I bet that might have won NaNoWriMo, though it needs about 49,950 more words.

And one final note.  No one every leaves a comment here and I approve everything that isn’t spam (I only approve things once, then they flow freely, like wine at one of my parties.) I am in the middle of an on-going debate.  I would love your comments on it.

Have you read “Pat the Bunny?”  If so, what are your thoughts on it.

thank you for being my therapist tonight. Sadly, my insurance won’t be paying the bill.

Leave a comment


  1. Anonymous

     /  November 27, 2012

    It’s not about the number of words, or the length of the words. It is about the ideas communicated, the mental imagery generated. eff ’em if they can’t take a joke — Dickens got paid by the word, and look what we got out of him!

  2. Here is your external validation, Handsome. Comment, Comment Comment!
    Quit spending so much time on how good or bad you think it is and just DO IT ALREADY! Keep writing!
    Signed, Your Biggest Fan (Who also happens to be your full time Laundress

  3. Laura

     /  December 1, 2012

    Things come to me in flashes; it’s sustaining the idea and developing it that is the difficult part for me. A friend sent me this link the other day: pretty good advice. Keep writing! Like playing the lottery, you can’t win if you don’t buy the ticket…


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