NaNoWriMo: collision course

Photo: Chicory, October 21.

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Brenna has Thursday and Friday off, so this afternoon I'm driving to Lindsay to pick her up for the long weekend. Meanwhile, my mind is trying to gear up for NaNoWriMo. I can't believe I've chosen the ex-gay experience as the main plot for my novel. I must be insane. I'm on a collision course with the most devastating five years of my life, and I don't know whether I'll survive.

No, I do know. I will still be alive at the end of November, probably reduced to a mass of inert, blithering flesh, but at least alive.

danthered has given me this handy fluorescent light fixture, which I've set up right behind my monitor. I'm sure to get bright, broad-spectrum light for at least an hour every day when I sit here writing. It's probably attributable to a combination of factors, but I feel better than last week. The light seems to be contributing. Thank you, Daniel.

So I've been writing an outline for the novel, which is more than I did last year. In Tendril, I only had some character sketches and an idea of where I wanted the plot to end. The characters were not as close to the reality of my life, and the story was fun.

I'm a lot clearer this year about what needs to happen, and that's a good thing. The difficult part will be writing the narrative. Last year, whenever I ran out of ideas, I would resort to dialogue and let the characters work things out. It was relatively easy.

I want this narrative to be more descriptive and psychological, and that's a challenge.

I'm putting myself at the wheel of a car spinning out of control down a mountainside. That's what creative writing is all about: letting your creative instincts run at the same pace as all the avalanche of words inside.

The story keeps starting to sound like an autobiography, which is another thing I don't want. That would be too negative and whiny, and I don't want the unpleasant aspects of this story to reflect on any real characters.

This is not about axe-grinding. It's simply a story of the unfortunate things we do when we don't love ourselves right.

A couple colourful characters have arisen. Particularly the wife, and I can assure you she will be nothing like my ex. The gay romantic interest is starting to take shape, too; an amalgamation of some characters I knew in university.

And the agony of wanting. I remember that so well. That part is taking shape. Wanting something you believe you can never have. The resignation that goes into surviving, thinking, "If I just get through this life, maybe God will reward me when I die and make eternity bearable."

My protagonist must reach the point where life itself is rewarding. I've arrived there myself, I think. Some days yes, some days no.

I don't know what to do with the main character though. Indeed, this will be a kind of shifted memoir containing many aspects of my life. But transformed to something a little different. More poetic perhaps, containing transports from the grim reality.

Yes, that's where I need to go, into the mystical tale that carries through all our minds and experiences. In fact, I might be running on a collision course with Jesus, not exactly the person I expected to meet in a shadowy corridor of the consciousness in November 2004. But Jesus stands there, codependently, looking like he needs me to knock. I don't know why we should become lovers again after all this time.

Lunar eclipse

The sky has cleared enough for me and Brenna to watch the lunar eclipse. The earth's shadow has taken a bite out of the lower half already. It will reach totality at 10:23 EDT. Hopefully the clouds will hold off. In another half hour we'll drive to the edge of town to take a good look through the binoculars. It's a balmy 7°C/45°F; couldn't ask for much nicer on a night in late October.