Writer’s month

Woke up feeling  lighter and although this has in part to do with the housemate feeling better, I suspect I  have been more tired and  rundown than I  realised at the time. A good night’s sleep works wonders.

So took out my new  fiction outline and  plot notes and  launched into Nanowrimo 2012, glad to have some  November novel-writing friends keeping me company. Let me know if you’re  doing it this year, writing support is a help when  writer’s block  descends or  a charcter runs away with the  plot.

This drafting and dreaming up a  story is  always the honeymoon stage of writing, the flow and  excitement of early drafts,  planning and  talking myself through snatches of dialogue and  scribbling away happily in notebooks, jotting down random scenes and mumbling dialogue to myself and a host of  characters in the bath,  making up sentences as I  walk the dogs. The  struggle will come  with the second draft, weeding out and reworking and  seeing what is going to be hard to fix and then setting it aside for a  few months and  trying again. But that is the way I work and  I can’t seem to do it faster or  more  simply.

A biography has just come out on Thornton Wilder, an American writer (celibate most of his life, hardworking,  a ‘steady if not self-destructive drinker’) and acclaimed literary figure  now often overlooked, who won three Pulitzer prizes in his life.  His myth-themes?

“How do you live? How do you bear the unbearable? How do you handle the various dimensions of love, of faith, of the human condition? How do universal elements forge every unique, individual human life? And where does the family fit in the cosmic scheme of things?”

That last theme alone could keep most of us preoccupied for  a lifetime.

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11 comments to Writer’s month

  1. akannie says:

    Hello, dear one. Yes I am NaNo’ing this year. Glad you are too. I petered out last year, hopefully this year will go better. I did “win” 2 years in a row…lol

    Made your scones recipe last night to go with salad from the garden and white chili, made with chicken and cannelini beans. They tasted exactly like my mothers buttermilk biscuits. Not like what Americans call scones though. But–what do we know. They were delicious!

    I love Thornton Wilder. And loved that set of myth-themes.

    Chilly here this morning, and I shall be canning the last batch of green beans. Still getting goodies from the garden, ion spite of the frosts we’re having…32 here this morning…chickens aren’t liking the cold at all, and I even hooked up their heat lamp yesterday…

    • Mary LA says:

      The word ‘scones’ and the word ‘biscuits’ collide mid-Atlantic, Annie — I have a Scottish understanding of ‘scones’ as opposed to biscuits or tablet. This differs from the English (Sassenach) understanding of big fluffy things with jam and clotted cream. And it is like pancakes and flapjacks — I can’t work out why a perfectly risen scone should be officially an American biscuit!

      I befriended you on Nano and am not sure I went to the right place — please email me if you can’t find me — I’m still where i was last year.

  2. Mrs D says:

    I’m pleased to hear your housemate is feeling better, that must be a worry I know. Enjoying your writing as I always do, although I rarely comment, I am a fan xxxx

  3. I wanted to do NaNo this year … but never got around to doing any outlining. So — I guess I’m not doing it. Bah!

    As for Thornton Wilder, if he actually manages to answer (or even thoroughly explore) the question about how one bears the unbearable, then I must read those books!

    • Mary LA says:

      Try Thornton Wilder’s Bridge of San Luis Rey for starters — six people die on a certain day and the novel looks at the trajectories of their lives up until that final choice, decision, event.

  4. I also wanted to do NaNo this year. But I could not think of one thing to write about!

  5. Lynda M O says:

    Thanks for your thought-provoking essays; I always get something from them.

  6. Lydia says:

    I’m NOT doing it this year. I “won” the past two years, and I have the type of personality that will not allow me to peter out. I’d have to crash. Instead I’m going to write all year, and see how that goes. Part of my decision is that I don’t know exactly why I write fiction. I like to, and at one time wanted to be a “writer,” but that time has long passed.

    Anyway I am somewhat sad about not doing it. I’ll be cheering you on and I will probably be back next year, God willing and the creek don’t rise.

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