The Acknowledgement of Shortcomings

I feel like such a failure. My intention was to actually succeed in doing my public NaNoWriMo but, once again, life got in the way. Honestly, November is the worst month for me to take on such a project. My birthday always ends up consuming most of the first weekend of the month and then school begins to ramp up for the end of the semester. This year was no exception. It has been one thing after another, which isn’t a complaint, it’s explanation.

So, if you cared where that story was going I can tell you now, nowhere. I had no road map or plan (as it was obvious by two of the entries.) I will probably pick it up and start again some other time but as it is halfway through the month the likelihood of me continuing where I left off and finishing is REAL low.

One thing I will advise about the process is maintain consistency. Missing one day is okay, but I would not suggest it. Keeping the minimum word count at 1,667 is ideal. Going beyond that can be excruciating for the days when one just does not want to write. Or the ideas are just not coming.

Calm Before the Storm

Today is the day. At one o’clock I will find out whether or not I have cancer. It’s surreal to say the least but I am not as nervous or worried as I thought I would be, but also I have been sitting with this for the past month so all the “feels” have gone through my body.

I will say that I do have this bad habit of disassociating from my true emotions as a way safeguarding myself, because when I do feel things I take them on and wear them like a second skin. That act of burying my feelings is most likely happening. This morning alone I have had four cigarettes and I just want more. I told the boyfriend I wanted to just sit outside and pretend to be a London chimney circa winter 1740. (Now I realize I got my timeline wrong and I wanted 1888 during the industrial revolution. oh well. I think he got what I meant.)

I’m worried but at the same time I know there is nothing that can be done in this moment. What’s happened has already come to pass and I am living in it’s wake. So at this point I just have to ride out the momentum and see where it goes.

I keep reminding myself that this is not a death sentence. If I do in fact have cancer it is the curable kind. More than likely if I were to leave it alone it would spread to the rest of my body and THAT would kill me. My initial intention was to do that, but after some coaxing from both the husband and boyfriend I have chosen to not take that route. Sure, I may possibly lose whatever sex life I have but I’ll be alive. And I’m told that’s what matters.

National Novel Writing Month

This Thursday, November 1st, marks two of my favorite things. The first being my wedding anniversary (5 years) and the second being the start of National Novel Writing Month or what it is colloquially known as NaNoWriMo.

If you haven’t heard of it and are a budding/want-to-be writer, I suggest you check it out. Their website is: www.nanowrimo.org. I went to their site to brush up on how and where it all began, (because I have this vague memory that it was started by a bunch of college students who wanted to finish their manuscripts) but I couldn’t find any sort of mission statement. So, I may have just made that shit up in my head. Who knows. If I did, that isn’t the first time I imagined reading information in regards to the event.

The idea behind it is that every day for the month of November you write a minimum of 1,667 words until the 30th when you reach the ultimate goal of 50,000, which amounts to a novel length work of fiction.

When I first participated I could have SWORN I read somewhere that you just write, you don’t ever go back and revise or re-read what you’d written, and instead charge forward until you’ve accomplished your goal. Once at the finish line you can look back and begin the process of editing. When I participated the following year that whole piece was absent from their website and, just like my fantasy of “how it started,” may have concocted the whole thing in my imagination. Regardless, that piece of advice is what I pass on to those I try to entice into the event. What I discovered is that this is EXACTLY how I like to write. In addition, I don’t like to plan that far in advance (however if that’s your process have at) because I enjoy having the story unfold for me as if I was reading the book. My good friend Matt told me that is the style in which Stephen King writes and I take that as a shining omen for my process.

The first time I participated I wrote my first ever novel and, also, the one I have since attempted to edit. (That was back in 2009, to get some perspective). It sits on my desktop taunting me. It wants to be published, but the thing I hate about writing is editing, and that is all writing is, to be quite frank.

From that first novel I wrote two subsequent sequels in the same NaNoWriMo style. One of them was absolute trash and once I was complete I ended up printing it and shoving it in some dark drawer, never to see the light of day. The one I wrote after that though was fantastic. I guess I just needed to get all the bad ideas out first.

It has been a few years since I did NaNoWriMo. Life has just gotten in the way and each year I set out with the intent to do it but ultimately told myself that I didn’t need the added stress of trying to write 1,667 words a day for an entire month added to my plate. This year is no exception. I’m just as busy (if not more) like before, which made me realize life is constant and I’ll always be “busy” but that isn’t an excuse to forego my art. Going against my better judgment, I have decided to rejoin the fun, but with an added twist. I will publish my work, to my blog, as I trudge along in all of its terrible, raw glory. (I may give each sprint a little run through the Grammarly program, but otherwise it will remain unedited.)

I encourage you to follow along, because it’s interesting to see how things turn out. Full disclosure, it will also be a train wreck, which is also kind of fun to watch.

P.S. I will be saving each entry under the category “Cursed.”

In the wake of initial shock

It’s weird how I’m handling this whole “cancer” thing. First off, without even having an affirmative diagnosis that it is the case, I am treating it as though I do. I am uncertain if that’s a coping mechanism, to prepare me for the worse, or if I just know. I say that because when I had appendicitis I KNEW and when I had pinkeye I KNEW. With those particular cases there was no doubt in my mind and they turned out to be true. However, in defense of the negative there were other times I was “sure” and they turned out to be wrong. You just never know until it happens. We can have our gut feelings but without fact they’re just assumptions. And I assume a lot. (This blog is nothing but presumption in regards to my life and experiences so… there you go.)

The one thing I am certain of is that it is going to be a VERY long month…

As I spend my time driving around for work or am left alone for any length of time the whole idea consumes me in this bubble and I begin to cry. At this point, it’s all I can do. And letting it out makes me feel a world better. What’s even weirder to me is the brave mask I wear whenever I am around people. It’s like I’m playing the role of a lifetime and I’m attempting to win an academy award.

At the base of all of this I could very well be overreacting. I could be fine. And in the end, even if I do I have cancer I’ll be alright. Chances are they’ll remove my prostate or attempt to shrink it with radiation. The only way I’ll die is if I do nothing.

From my previous post I had already chosen to do nothing, but instead I have moved onto keeping an open mind to the options. I did some research and the side effects vary and could be mild to moderate (I sound like a commercial for cialis.) The one upside is that the younger you are the easier it is to bounce back from erectile dysfunction.

My husband and I were talking the other day and he shared with me the feeling of purpose he has in life and I was proud of him. It was about giving to others. When the time for me to share my own sentiments I disappointed. I really feel like I have no purpose. I don’t really add or give anything to or for anyone. If I was gone I’d be missed but people can and will move on from the loss. I say this with no irony or angst. For me it is just a fact of life.

The only thing I have gathered from this is that if I ever want to leave a legacy with my stories I have to get on it or it will never happen. Maybe I needed this “push” to get me moving out of my lazy approach to success.