Just call me #Guinea – #Pig if your NaNoWriMo’ing

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…my mascot is throwing down to Janet Jackson’s, “Nasty”

There is a new heart-breaker in my world and her name is Cait Reynolds. She is an mucho-fab-lady and liaison. While I hold her in high esteem, I am afraid I still dive head-first at break-neck speeds into the #ultra #newbie category of hip and happening #AmWriting kind of peeples, deemed guinea pig and proud to wear the badge. Through her careful, non-shaming coaching and “F yeah” attitude she has taken this top-grade A #panster and shown her the light of what being a #planner is all about, or at least a fledgling dot in the outlining a novel hemisphere.

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this being the reason it is sooo important

Writing, something, isn’t the issue, but focus, laser vision, a definitive instruction sheet instead of the over-active brain stem instability I am most known for and I don’t think I am alone. Hey, but I don’t mind being on the island, believe you me. The great thing, like most manuals, is you don’t even have to follow the darn thing to a T, but use the pre-work as a guideline…(when completed it cleans up into a tight synopsis, boo ya’)

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No more getting bogged down in the 30,000 word quagmire.

Here in lies the real work, for me, I whined and whimpered a bit, but my hissy-fit was a lonely dramatization for one. I doodled and assigned actors in my leading roles, classic procrastination. I was tasked with the challenge of saying NO to inking chapter 1 until I’d written the “story before the story” (see caitreynolds.com) and how my main characters interacted with each other.

If I wanted to be a part of N.A.N.O. , and she’s so stealth I’d no idea I’d be attending, I needed to honor my story-line with a sense of understanding or I’d be doing myself and my fresh “twinkle in the eye” a horrible dis-service.

W.A.N.A. International offers a variety of educational, fun and affordable classes for everyone with a slew of talented instructors.

And the great news is…I completed my challenge. Not until the final hours, because why would I ever do anything without a flair for the over-dramatic, and not without concern I’d have to start my attempt at outlining again, but I did it! 

I get to begin the real chapter 1, my golden cherry, tomorrow with a gazillion other “I think I can” writers of the world.

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We will see how this new guinea progresses in the most magical month of November, but freak out I won’t. I did that already, gosh. 

In my short, 321,562 word, but whose counting? tenure I have found an incredibly fabulous group of writers, non-condescending, albeit at times cricket-like, among the W.A.N.A. nation

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and their esteemed super-warrior founder/queen Kristen Lamb, who in turn led me to Cait, not because Cait needed my kind of vanilla, but because Kristen cared enough. These two are, in my mind, the greatest love affair or ice cream combination of all time. 

Now I beg all my #IWSG friends not to get in a Lizzy-kind of-tizzy over such a statement, as both groups offer support in ways I am honored to be affiliated with and writers need writers who care, remembering how the streets were paved back in their “I think I want to be a writer” days. 

Insecure Writers Support Group Badge

November 1 question – Win or not, do you usually finish your NaNo project? Have any of them gone on to be published?

Well, I can dream, right? 

Write On! ❤ Jess

 

 

 

 

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Raised by Wolves…a child’s interpretive

I have recently been diagnosed with an “overactive brain-stem.” I tell you this because I find the diagnosis hilarious, and not a slap-the-knee…holding-my-belly… bent-over kind of funny, after spending thousands of dollars on specialists from allergists to ENTs to neurologists and so on.

I should have quit after hearing the term “highly reactive.”

I’m not hyper-active, but my mind leans heavy on overdrive. I wish my physicality had the tendencies to stretch in the same direction. The funnier thing is I am the calmest person I know…unless you really piss me off then I will never let that shit go.

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Dear Self….get your #^! SH*t together

Ummmmm…where has American Writers Exposed Gone?

Because I surely do not know…

It’s possible I do, so let us see if we can unearth this unkempt void to the beginning. 

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What the triple heck? As surely as eating better, my quest to post articles in a regular, meaningful fashion became lost. Sandi has been long on tour and I languishing on holiday in the cavernous recesses of Mt. Blockheadiness. A dismal vacation I promise.

Excuses are poor and so I shan’t give one.

Let’s talk.

My three year do or die clock has struck. 

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The window I gave myself to make my writing gig happen or pack up. 

There was a time I believed I never procrastinated. My littles complained I stuffed way too many stops into a single trip to town. In this day, I find it hard to prepare for a 3 o’clock appointment. My wonder woman invisible mountain blocks my way.

I mean I have to wake up, which could turn into a 2-hour event. There is showering involved, some primping and whining no doubt. My bed is never made so I don’t have to worry about that, but looking in the closet, the dresser drawers? Yikes, pressure begins to build.

So where in the life of lives of mine does my writing fit? I have acclimated into this clinging seaweed monster of advanced stall tactics smack dab in the middle of living my authorly dreams.

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(This is very close to me but you must add a spin, plus another…circling in the same spot.) Annoying, I know.

Over the past 6 months, I have hooked up with some great people. A phenomenal person. A clever-witted brilliant individual with vision, excitement, and knowledge to catapult me into the penman atmosphere of global literary enlightenment. Like POW, where have you been my whole life?

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And what have I done?

Froze. Deer in headlights, the whole gambit. I have no shame to admit such. What is my issue, fear? Didn’t I give that up the 1st time I submitted anything? posted on the internet? stepped forward and admitted I write romance? 

I’m doing everything I said I’d never do like a middle-aged driving disaster going 35 on the interstate and not in the right lane with hazard lights, but to the left. My personal blog and AWE have been left unattended. Don’t you like that acronym, AWE? See I’m doing it again. 

Deep down I understand my fear. When I started, I believed the hype I’d been told. Never did I dream I’d have more downs than ups. Couldn’t imagine the lack of support I’d receive from my community of related personage. Or realized my ability to be impetuously drawn into non-factorly tasks.

What a load.

So I ask the greatest community of wordsmiths in every stage of their multiple WIPs to send this block of dirt a surge of well wishes to “get er’ done!” (I hate that quote too!) Like, tomorrow, or if I’m seriously serious, today.

 

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Write On ❤ Jess!