How?

I am male…horrors! The source of all evil–even the stuff you weren’t born knowing about!

Ew! Gross!

I am caucasian…AKA “white” Arrrrrghhhh–now even the stuff I couldn’t possibly have had any influence on what so ever but I must absolutely apologize for and then disappear!

Gasp! Horrors!

I am old…post 60 and all I get are adverts for “new” drugs with side-effects that range from constipation to death–the sooner the better.

Couldn’t you have the decency to just…go off by yourself and…age!? You just had to do it here? In front of us all?

I am a dad…a Great-grandfather now–You know, like all the commercials depict us: stupid, abusive, negligent, selfish, etc.

Could it get any worse? Your fences! Your strict authoritarianism! How dare you claim to love?

I am a teacher…yes, 33 years and–

Well! There it is: You caused everything even remotely bad! Male, caucasian, old, dad, and a teacher?! What could be worse–?

Oh, I identify as a Christian too, a rather sarcastic one, but a Follower of the Way nonetheless.

I knew it! A true source of all that is wrong with the world!

How could there be any possible reason to want to do NaNoWriMo again?!

A wannabe writer too?! That does it. Scapegoat! Scapegoat! Marginalize and Cancel! Cancel him! You’re cancelled, sir! Canceled!

NaNoWriMo ’19

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          I have never been more busy and overwhelmed by work in my 29 years of teaching. 55-60 hours a week for a salary that contracts for 37.5 […and that’s all I’m going to say about that–I don’t want to be a pisser-and-moaner as I chose this career. Neither, however, do I want to pretend the situation is fair or equitable, so I’ve made my note, now back to the subject at hand!]. Still, despite the workload, I’m going to try my hand at NaNo once again. Three “wins,” as the NaNo gods like to say, and two losses, which they do not like to say, leave me with no illusions as to how hard it will be under present work conditions.
     As plans slowly swirl and simmer, rising from the cavernous depths of soul-crushing career sludge concerning plot-lines, characters, research, etc. (stop with the Beowulfian alliteration already–you’ve had your rant!), and I begin to take notes, a few observations need annotation.

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Outlining: What-If Exercises and Variants

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     It might be expected that N. and A. are in love. What if N. doesn’t love A. at all, but fearing that if he turns to K., she will lose access to the resources he represents, she sincerely tries to love him as he desires, but in the end just can’t—and though she saves her people and truly expresses her heart, she sets the great tragedy into motion (hell-if-I-know what that tragedy is yet!)?

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I’ve Decided to Set Aside WIP 6.1

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Why I have stopped working on my present WIP
     Though I have written nearly 80k words worth of WIP6 rough draft and research to date, the plot and story presently feel more disjointed and awkward than I imagine a rough draft should. I have therefore called a halt to any further composition until I have put my story through some sort of structured filter (read outline) by which it can be examined for missing and/or misshapen features. What follows is my plan.

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I Am Ready To Leave This Place of Death

     It’s 05:00 now. I’ve set the sprinklers (for damn near the first time in four years). I’m drinking coffee too wound-up to sleep another moment. This place is filled with memories of Callista and my marriage. The emptying rooms echo, which is good for singing and prayer but not for being alone and remembering the dead. By the time the sun sets, however, my tenure in this place of death will be done.

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Rejection’s False Advertising

     The major move continues. Yesterday, we loaded up my brother-in-law’s truck with storage items and filled a rented 10′ x 15′ space with a lot of things I identify with and that defined who I’ve been. I have placed more precious things—swords, bagpipes, special collections—in storage with kind friends and relatives. I am going to go “live” in an 11′ x 11′ bedroom with about a third of my library crammed into seven bookcases lining the walls. I jokingly refer to it as “The Monk’s Cell” but think of it more as a “Hospital” or “Chrysalis” where I will convalesce and treat my divorce wounds.

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The Timing of It All

     I’m presently writing prelim notes for my WIP. The working title is Arenn’s Sorrows. I’ve followed Holly’s curriculum to about halfway through Lesson 9: “How To Plan Your Project Without Killing Your Story.” If I’m lucky, I’ll get the rest of it done by October’s end. Regardless, I plan to start the rough draft on November 1st using NaNoWriMo as my gate.
     I’m still struck by the timing of it all: that by the evening of the 29th the move will be done, that the lease is up at midnight on the 30th, and that I’ll say “goodbye” to Bridgewood and the Last Library forever. A day later we’ll celebrate Samhainn with a fire in the pit and on that night, as the cinders whirl upwards like fiery prayers, the world will change.
     While my grieving will not nearly be finished, and I’ll forever wish with all my heart that circumstances were different, nonetheless, on November 1st, I will begin again and plan to celebrate with a 1,667+ word day!