I am still in shock because I haven’t really been able to celebrate, print, or otherwise laud the success of finishing my novel. The champagne is stuck in the fridge, waiting for my dad to get home from work before midnight…
So we’ll get to that later.
In case you are one of those crazy, pro-war, scared to travel people, I’d like to let you know that your husband can get all of your paperwork together and expedite you a passport. They even forge travel documents for you (for a price, of course) so that the turnaround time from the US government is faster. I don’t need to even be present, just provide photocopies of applications and documents. Witnesses, schmitnesses.
So, not only will I get to go to New Zealand after all, terrorists can have other people prepare international documents.
I can FEEL it.
It’s so close, it’s scary.
That’s all I can think of to say. Tomorrow, I will be telling you words I have been waiting years to say.
I WROTE A BOOK.
(That was the practice run, of course)
Yes, a whole book. A novel. 50,000 words, 11 chapters, three points of view.
This is incredible.
And on the other hand, it’s almost all over! Wow happy and sad. Cue the bittersweet music. I think I finally realized that I, am, and was meant to be, a writer.
In the words of Borat, “This book is good not.”
I’m a little lost. Where was I? Did I already write about this? Where is that one part? What happens next? Are we in a comedy or tragedy? Who wants a happy ending? Where’s my coffee? Does this computer have a spell check or what? How do you forget how to type in ten days? Will they really know if I just copy the whole thing into the word counter twice? Is 3,000 words too many about a hang nail?
Just kidding on that last one. Although…
That’s just the beginning. Connecticut gets me going, each time I’m home, I want to move up and stay. I miss my family so much. All five of us played pool ’till the wee morning hours. I’ve learned where I get the skill to completely miss any ball on the table, thanks mom. I’ve learned that my brothers are as refined in the art of smack-talk as I am, way to go C and C. I want to be a good daughter and just relax but I get all excited and talk and talk – I’m a dork.
But I feel normal. I can be myself as annoying as that is and know that even if mom and dad are going to bed in the next room telling each other that they don’t know where I get it from and I’m an idiot that at least they still love me. Even if my book sucks.
Things I’ve learned in the past few days:
- When you miss someone like crazy, it’s further proof that’s a great friend
- I still have growing up to do.
- Family is a good good thing, and it’s something not everyone has.
- Everyone that is an American should be forced to visit Washington DC.
- My life is good. I need to remember that 100% of the time.
- Blessings are everywhere when you look hard enough.
- Perspective makes everyone reform priorities.
I can’t wait to talk about my trip, MK, my friends, and how I have not written one word in what, ten days. I’ll be in CT tomorrow, and trying to find 10,000 words to achieve this goal I gave myself.
I saw Pete Rose. And that guy from Desperate Housewives. He’s hot. Vegas was a blast, mostly because we were in the finest of company. We enjoyed all you can eat seafood at a trendy restaurant (I ate more oysters than I thought could fit in my belly) and the bottle service that got us on the 65th floor of THEhotel, the newest bar. Not to brag, but it’s nice. One of these people called little old me a FIRECRACKER. I LIKE that one.
It’s not bragging when you did nothing to deserve it, right?
Vegas was completely different this trip from the times I’d been before – my first serious go-in-every-store (especially if you can’t afford it) shopping trip, and also my first venture downtown, the old stuff. That might have been the best part. That or seeing a guy reserve a craps table for HIMSELF at about 9pm, then seeing that he had not moved at 11am the next day. Same clothes, needing a shave. I swear.
And we got to play some craps. It’s way more fun to really gamble than to get stuck sitting at penny slots. So it was a great time, although I felt like a really old lady because I couldn’t stay strong as long as usual and had awful foot and leg cramps. I don’t get it – I’m in my best shape ever, but I was beat. I think we did more than I’ve ever done, especially walking. That’s what happens when you find the $2 24oz. beer bar. It makes you think you’re unstoppable.
We’re off in a few minutes to DC, and I’m a little worried the book isn’t going to make it. We’ll see…
So if you saw the Sunday paper, there was an article about the local meetings that the NaNoer’s in Austin have been having. If you even followed that story to J3, you saw the back of my head. I forgot to mention this episode because I forgot the article had even come out, until someone told me. Funniest thing is, it’s some blond hair, which I no longer have. So say I’m at a public event, NO ONE WILL EVEN be like, “Hey isn’t that the beautiful back – of – a – girls – head that you were studying all day Sunday into the evening?” I won’t even be noticed, never mind asked for an autograph. So ALAS, Austin American-Statesmen, you have failed me. And your audience, who would have loved to see more of me.
*Cues someone singing “You look better from behind” * (Mom, that’s a rap song.)
So I’m a little sad about that.
And, I got almost half way to where I wanted to be with my book before I left, so I have to be happy about that. My computer couldn’t keep up with me last night, I thought it might over heat and explode, so I let it be and turned it off a little earlier than I had planned.
I will talk to you in four days!! Until then…peruse all three months of archives to make me feel good about myself.
It’s worse than sabotage! ABC has an internet website where you can watch TV. I’ve seen episodes of, well, everything. There’s only like two commercials an episode, and it’s like crack and I can’t stop.
TV on the internet. I love it. All caught up.
Since that took up most of my morning, okay, and afternoon, I’ll be attempting the unthinkable – 10,000 words in 5 hours. I know it won’t happen, but we’ll all see how close I get.
I’m leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and we all know that’s the beginning of the end when it comes to this book, finishing – or at least getting ahead- early is crucial.
I’ll keep you posted. I think my average has been about 1,000 words an hour, and so I guess if I make it half way to my goal I’ll have to be pleased.
I didn’t know I had a lumbar, but now I’m worried about it’s survival. Apparently having a lap top makes you type in all uncomfortable crazy places and positions, then you get in a car, and GASP! – it has no lumbar support, and then your back is broken.
So, if you could – I don’t know what I need – send me some support, that’d be fantastic. Rumor has it this is a ploy to get me to shell out $50 some-odd dollars for a pillow.
It’s true, I type on the floor, a desk, at a bar, coffee shop…I thought about writing in the car, traffic was pretty bad…but what is this nonsense all about? I’m in pain! Who has time for that?
I’m trying to finish a novel here…
I think I’d rather just have a glass of wine, thanks.
A saying I like these days…in other news. Because it’s (almost) un-novel-related.
POINT THE FIRST: I just realized why I like Starbucks. And Cafe Caffeine. Whatever – um, when I ask for coffee, and do you have AMARETTO, don’t look at the manager. And when you’re the manager, don’t say “I think there is some almond crap over there.” I will punch you in the mouth. Ask the guy at Austin Java. WITH THE BRUISE ON HIS MOUTH.
POINT THE SECOND: When some one inquires to the general status of a hobby, as in “oh, you write?” or “I didn’t know you SANG…” Don’t answer “Duh. It’s kind of what I DO with my life.” Because if we don’t know that you are world famous for tap dancing or whatEVER, then you shouldn’t act surprised. That’s lame.
From the article snippy referenced: (whole thing here: gawker)
We’ve always been unimpressed with the people who trumpet their participation in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), which as far as we can tell involves telling everyone you know (usually via your blog) that you’re writing a novel in a month, woohoo, way to go you. Seriously, it’s almost as tiresome as people who think they’re all special for sprinting through five boroughs. Color us not impressed.
Okay. so maybe I have noticed that my mom is the only one still reading my blog, but hey, I won’t brag unless I finish. And I have only found one blog besides mine about this. And, you’re just bragging because gawker makes millions. I’m doing it for the little Vietnamese libraries, jerks. How many books have you written?