I've run into this SF story more than once. Probably the most famous version is the one that aired on the Twilight Zone in the 1980's and starred the mom from A Christmas Story. You know, the story about the wife and mother who doesn't have any time, but finds a magical something or other which allows her stop time and be able to do WHATEVER SHE WANTS.

If I found the magical something or other that would allow me to stop time, today I would stop time and get all my work done (the work that pays), and then start time again and use the real time to write fiction, read, and nap.

And then I'd take another nap.

Have I mentioned I'm not so fond of this jet lag thing?

All right. So this is the deal. (And I suspect most of you won't know what I'm talking about, and that's just fine.)

No more cryptic messages left in the comments area, okay? No more intimations if I know about this or that in relation to friends. Doesn't matter. Past is past. Case closed.


At least have the guts to leave an email address or an URL.

Time in Bangkok, Phuket, Ko Lanta, Siem Reap, the temples of Angkor.

Working on processing everything, thinking and digesting all the sights and sounds and smells and experiences. How to blog all this, especially when my internet time is rare and precious?

I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday.

I have been working on getting a big girl job for a while; the most recent one has fallen through. I was a finalist, but no crown for me.

Thankfully, another opportunity has arisen.

I'm traveling to Southeast Asia for two months to work on some non-fiction projects. There will be tech writing and travel writing, but also fiction writing and adventure blogging.

Perhaps one of the coolest parts is that chris_reynaga is coming, too.

This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime adventures, and a fantastic opportunity.

We fly out of San Francisco tomorrow at midnight. We'll be in a plane for a while. I'm bringing a notebook.

At 51,780 words my NaNo novel is complete.

I also broke my record of the most words written in one day -- I wrote 14,639 words today. I have written 35,200 words since about 3:45 on Saturday afternoon.

And also, the novel is utter crap. There are pieces that may be salvageable, but it's absolutely horrid. Probably the worst thing I have ever written. Sincerely. But it's done. And it's good.

50,000 words + complete -- now wrapping things up.

Less than 1500 words until I'm done.

These are the last 2,000 words.

I have about 4,500 words left. See that? That's a short story.

Onward ho!

I'm into the home stretch. Less than 7,000 words to write now.

And all I want to do is take a shower and curl up in a warm, cushy spot with some ginger tea and read a good book. Or watch really mind-numbing TV; my mind is already sufficiently numb, so I'd totally cope.

10,653 words yesterday. I have thousands upon thousands to write today.

My Mountain Dew and brownie diet can't last. I ate a real breakfast today, which will certainly carry me through the day.

The house is under writing quarantine, and I'm here with my laptop, ready to produce.

I'm kind of sick of sitting, but it's 11:51 p.m., and kind of late to take a walk. And chilly. (I do live in the mountains, after all.)

After this writing run, I'm going to have to sit on a pillow for the next six months, guaranteed.

By the way, I'm at 26,227 words, so I've written about 10,000¹ words since I started about 3:45 p.m. this afternoon. That's pretty good, I think.

Notice however, that I didn't say any of it was good writing, but it most certainly is writing. I finished a novel with a two week road trip in the middle last year and completed that novel. I will not let normal life interfere with this one.

My fiction writing record is from my 2007 novel when I wrote 10,000 words in one day. I'm guaranteed to break that record this year.

I am at fifty percent, and it feels good. I'm not worn out yet.

I took some breaks to sort music and bake¹ and chat about books with chris_reynaga and listen to nihilistic_kid 's most recent composition hot off his grimy little keyboard (it's fabulously hilarious, by the way) and generally distract myself from this year's novel in ways I could and could not justify.

Posting in this journal is one example of that.

I thought about my kids a lot.

There's a lot more writing to be done tonight, but all else being equal, it looks like I may finish my novel by my November 30th midnight deadline.

I'm bound to gain ten pounds by the end of the 30th. I may have to take some walking breaks in the middle of writing. That's the healthy, sane thing to do, right? :)

I started just under three hours ago at less than 30%, but I'm now at just over 40%. See that? My 20,000 word mark just whizzed by.

*pants*

Back to the laptop.

This may be a Mountain Dew and massive chocolate couple of days.

*notes not to forget to pay the rent*

*notes she had a fabulous time with the kids, and it's all worth it to have spent more time with them and other guests and to be writing now, as they fly back to Idaho*

Between poor judgment about how much time I would have for the last half of the month, moving activities, unexpected Thanksgiving hosting responsibilities, etc., etc., I have not quite 35,000 words to write by midnight November 30th. Watch me soar.

Dinner has been eaten, the pie has been consumed. Now it's time for the post-holiday come down and an attempt to catch up on the writing that was missed earlier in the day.

Note to self: Once again, for another year, ginger lime yams are good. So are mashed potatoes and gravy. The world needs more mashed potatoes and gravy.

Just saying.

Load two of dishes done. Pie is in the oven. Turkey is still brining, but only for a little while. Soon it will be time to roast the bird!

The pumpkin is pureed and it's about time to make a pie crust, pumpkin pie filling and then bake the pie. The turkey I'm brining has been turned.

The dishwasher was empty about thirty minutes ago. Between breakfast and all the usual Thanksgiving sort of prep, the dishwasher is now running.

The kids are cuddling on a chair.

I'm way behind on my NaNo novel; I haven't had near enough sleep.

This is why God made Mountain Dew.

It may seem like a step back, but it's not, I assure you.

***

I've gotten a lot written over the past year, and over the past month. Today I finished two (awful) short stories, am in the middle of two more and am in the middle of two novels. I'm about to take a break on one of them in order to devote more time to the one I'm supposed to be writing for NaNoWriMo.

But that's how we learn to write, isn't it? We read and read and read and we write and write and write and if we're lucky we crit and crit and crit. And then we write some more.

I wrote the two short stories today with no intention of selling them at all. Ever. One may have a chance after several rewrites. The second may have a chance at a girly market if I make it funny enough. Or at a spec-fic market if I set it in space. ;)

I wrote them to write them and to have fun. I also wrote them so that Shane Hoversten will write more stories for me to read when I get up in the morning. (But this is a story for another time.)

But I also wrote them to focus on one aspect, and one aspect only, of writing. For example, in the second one I focused on subtle character actions and behavior. The sort of elements of a story that aren't noticed unless they're done badly and come off cheesy. I hope I didn't come off cheesy. And I learned from it.

There was something about not having the added pressure of trying to get everything right right now, but just focusing on one thing I feel I need to improve on, a habit or potential habit I want to avoid. And it felt good.

I'll be doing more of this, certainly. These stories may never be salable, but these lessons are more valuable to me than any short story sale could be for me at this point.