DOOM and Camp NaNo

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's that time again.

The three month break is over, and it's time to write some stuff. 

I am excited. Like, über excited. I feel like the world is right again now that I am a writing fiend. 

So, DOOM actually started nine days ago, on March 1st, but I didn't find out about it until March 3rd, and I wasted another day deliberating whether or not I wanted to try and catch up with the rest of the bandwagon.

Basically (and thankfully), Doom is NaNoWriMo for busy people (which is now me, because I am a fancy, sophisticated college student). Yes, I will willingly be subjecting myself to the torment/challenge/joy of writing 50,000 words again. BUT, this time, my friends, I will have two months. 

That's right folks, I have a stunning two whole months (minus four days because I am late) to do the insane, the barely plausible…

Why?

Because why not?

NaNo was what helped me finish my novel. Why not give it another go and finish a second?

For DOOM my main focus will be finishing the second draft of Fool Me Once, because let's be honest here, it needs a lot of work. I'm hoping that Camp NaNo will polish off the remaining words in that, and I'll be able to start editing Stardust for the Workshop, cause as I may have forgotten to mention I AM GOING TO THE WORKSHOP.

At the end of April, I'll be tallying my total words written and I'm hoping to be somewhere in the 60 to 65k region. I don't even know what I'll be doing in May besides obsessively packing for the aforementioned workshop.

Is anyone else going to give Camp NaNo a go? I would love a word war or two sometime.

Really, though… This probably isn't going to seem like the greatest idea in a few weeks.

4 Things That Made Me a Better Writer

There have been many times in my life (in the past few weeks, actually) where I've found myself in front of my laptop, staring at a document full of words and phrases that I don't like.

Their not good. Like, at all.

It's bad. But I have absolutely no idea how to fix it. 

One of the most frustrating feelings, right?

I did what many of you might have. I went to a trusted source.

I went… to Google.

I started searching terms like 'how to write better descriptions,' or 'how to write better dialogue,' succeeding in one thing: making myself even more frustrated. Yeah, what they said made sense, but none of it was translating into my own writing.

If any of you are like me, this situation might sound familiar. I go through a lot of ups and downs with my writing. Sometimes, I think I might be able to do this writing thing. It's conceivable that I could get published and be the next J. K. Rowling. Then, next day I look at it, it's complete and total crap.

Does that also sound familiar?

Let me give you some assurance, dear writer, even if you can't see it, I'm sure there's improvement.

*cue self-example*

This is something I wrote about six or seven years ago with one of my friends. I am the Irish accent person (*headdesk*), and he wrote for Delta. The parenthesis are my added comments.

My face right now.

A few minutes later Delta finally answered me.
"I don't know," Delta said quietly, "But I know that I'm not going to clean this place for you. I swear the dust is at least an inch thick."He crossed his arms while I smirked and switched over to my Irish accent (what the even heck), while grabbing a broom 
"Fine! OUT WITH YE! OUT! OUT I SAY! OUT!" (I think this is causing me physical pain) I said while poking Delta with the end of my broom. After a few seconds I burst out laughing. Delta laughed slightly at my sudden 'outburst'.

For comparison, here's something I wrote yesterday (which also happens to be two of the opening paragraphs for Stardust).

The hallway around me was enveloped in the blurriness that often accompanies reading far too long into the night, and the plush carpet underneath me appeared to be no more than a gray blob. Dated oil pantings of my parents, faded by time, were almost indistinguishable against the plain white wallpaper and wainscoting, swirling in and out of focus in a haze of unimpressive hues. (Descriptions are fun. <3 )

I squinted at the silver-plated analogue clock mounted above the antique ebony accent table. The numbers danced around the face of the clock like a dozen gerridae bugs skating across a murky pond. (I spent probably five or six minutes on this one sentence and I think I'm in love.)

That's a big difference, and I'll bet that if you go dig up some of your old writing, and compare it to how you write now, there's bound to be improvement.

How did I get from Irish accent outbursts to decent writing? Here are four things I did that you can do too.

1. { Reading }

It's more important than you might think.

One of the biggest reasons I know what I know about good writing is because I've read thousands and thousands of pages of it.

I may not know how to technically construct a complete sentence, but I know how a complete sentence should look because I've seen them over and over again.

I know what good dialogue sounds like, and I know what good prose looks like because I've been exposed to it for years.

2. { One Year Adventure Novel }

One Year Adventure Novel is a program created by Daniel Schwabauer that teaches high school students how to write a novel in a year.

This is the single, most quantifiable thing that made me a better writer. 

OYAN taught me how to write a novel from start to finish. It took me through the entire process, from character creation to the story skeleton. It taught me about how to make my writing stronger, and it taught me how to construct a good story, something that people would want to read.

3. { Workshops }

The next, semi-logical step for me was workshops. OYAN has a Summer Workshop they put on every year for OYAN students that I decided I should probably go to. It was a week long, wonder-filled learning experience that I won't ever forget.

There was probably a couple hundred of us there, all interested in bettering our craft, with amazing speakers like Jeff Gerke, Jill Williamson, Stephanie Morrill, Mark Wilson, and Mr. S himself. I was amazed by how much I learned in just the span of a week.

4. { Critique Groups }

I'm pretty sure this was the most difficult one for me. It was terrifying (like butterflies-in-the-stomach-about-to-throw-up terrifying) to even think about letting other people read my writing. It was embarrassing, and it hurt my pride, when they pointed out something I needed to fix. It was difficult for me not to get defensive and cross my arms and refuse to listen to a thing they said.

Critique groups are rough, especially for those of us who have issues with injured pride, but they will teach you a lot, especially if you let them. If you can make yourself realize that whatever they say isn't a personal attack against you, it will be that much easier. 

The majority of critique groups are there to help you, not to make you feel stupid for missing that adverb. Critique groups can help you see things that you wouldn't have ever noticed on your own.

I hope this has helped, and if not, that you at least got a laugh out of my before and after. What have you guys done to improve your writing?

NaNoWriMo Update #4

Wow. I just…

Wow.

Where did November even go you guys? Just a few days ago it was November 10th, I swear.

I can't believe NaNo is almost over. I can't believe I'm almost done with a freaking novel. Basically, I just can't believe this entire month. Like… Wow.

I'm feeling super accomplished (even though I've still got about 10k to do (10k? Pshaah. I've already done 40k, thank you very much)).

I'm getting really excited. I can see the end of the road, the top of the hill. I can taste the victory (or is that just all the chocolate I've ingested this month?). Both maybe?

I don't know. All I know is that I am killing it. Slaying. Slaughtering. Beasting. Whatever you wish to call it. Maybe I'm not moving as fast as I had originally planned, and I might not be going as fast as some of the other writers, but I am going far faster than I've ever gone before.

I've almost written a novel in a month! That's awesome! And that goes for anyone else who's working on NaNo. You're amazing. Think about how many people say they want to write a novel, and let's take it a step further, think about how many people started NaNo then just quit.

But not you. Not me. Let's win this together! Let's finish NaNo strong!

#honorarynanopeptalk-er

Alright… Onto the stats for today.

Words Completed Today: 2,201 (but I want to churn out a few more before the night's up)

Total Words Completed: 42,355

Favorite Snippet: Guardian spun around, flying backwards, and he exploded into light. The Dustless closest to us screamed, crumpling to the ground.

I felt panic spear through me. I hadn't realized they were that close. I hadn't even heard them.

A gunshot broke through the air and I spun around, my eyes wide. She lay on the ground, a Dustless twisted on top of her. Black blood dribbled from the hole in it's head onto her, burning dark against her skin.

No.

She kicked it off of her and stared down at her arm in horror. Four arching scratch marks cut across her forearm and ruby red blood trickled down it, dripping from her elbow down onto the snow. It froze almost instantly.

The scarlet drops bounced against the ice, splattering in striking contract. I found a sick fascination in the color.

That's it for now. 

I'll see you guys at the end of the month, or maybe before. I want to do a Thanksgiving post, but I'm not sure how that'll work with actually doing Thanksgiving and NaNo too.

Happy Thanksgiving! Happy NaNo! Good Luck!!

NaNoWriMo Update #3

I can't believe it. NaNoWriMo is already half over. The hours spent in front of my laptop have flown by surprisingly fast.

I'm over half way done with my novel.

In seventeen freaking days.

Do you know how long it took me to get to the halfway point last time?

Six months.

And it took me six months to get a quarter of the words I've written for NaNo already.

It's strange, I keep flip flopping between feeling on top of the world and like I'm withering away. For example, Thursday of last week, I think, I flew through my words, getting them done rather quickly, but then today I've been doing a lot of staring at an empty screen.

I just can't get my brain to communicate with my fingers.

I'm having a really hard time writing.

Words Completed Today: 832 (but imma do more, i promise *cries*)
Words Completed Total: 29152
Favorite Snippet:

(Just a little explanation: this is not Pryor narrating, this is Livvy, his little sister who's been infected and is slowly being changed by the disease, both mentally and physically.)

We watch the wall. No. I watch the wall.
I thread my fingers through my hair, pulling until the stinging sensation in my scalp brings back a shred of sanity. The room is empty. White. You are alone, surrounded by nothing by unforgiving silence. You glanced towards the solid wall of shimmering exo-glass and realize that you are not you.
The girl's mind is cluttered by a thousand voices vying for control, for attention. I am not me. Something terrible is in my head, breaking her—breaking me—down piece by piece. I am loosing myself.
I look to the exo-glass, expecting to see Pryor's back pressed against it. She doesn't hear his voice. How long has it been since he came back?
A day? A year? A single minute?
I don't understand where he is. You crawl towards the wall, your fingernails, untrimmed and caked in dried blood-
Blood. She feels sick.
Why is there blood on my hands?
Then you remember. Your teeth sunk into her neck. Screaming. Hands scratching—hers and mine. Scarlet liquid flowing down your chin and onto the floor.
Tears wells up in my eyes, falling down her cheeks. You are scared. I'm so much worse than even a few days ago—or am I? I can't remember. You don't remember.
She curls in on herself and cries.
Where is Pryor?


There you have it, folks.

Until next time.

NaNoWriMo Update #2

Wow. So, um, hey guys. It's been a while guys. Sorry about that, by the way. I meant to do another blog post late last week, but it kind of got away from me (really tho, it was thursday one second then monday the next).

Anyways. NaNo update. Is that what I'm supposed to be doing? *is a little brain dead*

Sheesh. Where do I even begin? A lot can happen (and has) in 10,000 words. 

I guess we'll start with the bad news, which in this case, isn't really that bad. A couple of times last week, I had a mini panic attack. Why, do you ask? Because I sort of, more or less, kind of ran out of plot.

I am not a plotter. I am a pantser. I find I work best when I have no real plan. Except, working with my daily 2000 word quota, I'm chewing through my ideas almost faster (and in some cases faster, which caused my previously mentioned panic attacks) than I can make them up.

Thankfully, one quote, from a very wise person whose name I cannot for the life of me recall, saved my life (and plot (and dignity)). He/She/It said: 

"Don't try and figure what should happen, but what should go wrong."

And don't quote me on that, because that could be a total paraphrasing too. XD

Onto the good news, friends. I have four words for you: Jeremiah Lynch and Grae. Seriously, these guys are closely rivaling Emmeth for the coveted position of my favorite character. Also, I'm actually kind of on schedule *points to progress bar to your left*. LOOK.

Anyways. Onto what you all really care about.

First. A gif.

This has pretty much been me as of late. I'm just like get the words down. Get them down. XD

My stats: 

Completed words today: 2075

Total word count: 17504

Favorite snippet(s): 
“Psh. As if.” She said, jogging in front then turning around to walk backwards, wagging her finger at me. “I'm not passing up an opportunity to save the world. Besides, what if you need me?”
“I'm not going to need you.”
“Do you know how to hot-wire a car?”
I shot her an irriated look. “No.”
“Well, me either, but I'm sure I could figure it out.” She said, chuckling. She found herself far too amusing. “But really, I have this really good recipe for soup and all you need is-” She counted on her fingers as she listed the ingredients “Chicken stock, salt, pepper, and your favorite flavor of cardboard.”
“How are we going to get any of that in Antarctica?”
“That's your job to figure out, Pryor. You need to pitch in somehow, since I'll be the one doing the hot-wiring and cooking.”
“You're incredibly obnoxious.”
“I know.” She seemed very proud of that fact.

-like, 8000 or so words later-

He took the gauze from Rina and began to re-wrap Conrad's leg, tying it off in a tight knot. “You can't cure Ignis Necrosis.” He said flatly. “Trust me, I've tried.”
“Pryor Mason is not who you think he is, Jeremiah Lynch.” Guardian flew up in front of me, next to Lynch's shoulder. “He is the Harbinger.”
Lynch went rigid. His eyes narrowed and he stood. “That... That isn't possible.” He bit out. “The Harbinger died. Or have you forgotten that too, Cloud Walker?”
“You know as well as I do that he was but an imposter.”
“He was my son, you pretentious b*****.” Lynch growled. He turned towards Guardian. “There is no Harbinger. There is no cure. Do you hear me, Cloud Walker? There. Is. No. Cure. Get the h*** out of my camp, before I shoot you myself.”

(I apologize for Lynch, he's kind of a potty mouth… But I luffs him anyways.)

Until next time.