Day One
Tuesday, November 1, 2011 at 12:41PM For days, I've been looking forward to starting National Novel Writing Month or "NaNo" as the veterans call it.
Once I get excited about an idea, I'm usually consumed and I want to do it all now, now, now. But the official rules forbid writing until Nov. 1. You can sketch out ideas, outline the story, whatever, just no actual pen-to-paper writing or fingers-to-keyboard exploring.
I've seriously been quite giddy at the prospect until this morning when everything went to shit in the span of 15 minutes.
I woke to find the sink, for the second morning in a row, stacked with dirty dishes including a serving bowl caked with dried pesto flakes. I am a very small person, yes, but it kills me to start the day with accumulated grime when my entire days are filled with soiled sheets, toothpaste-splattered mirrors, peed-upon floors and yogurt on the walls. Strike 1.
Tobias spilled his bowl of oatmeal on the dining room table, down his chair and across the floor because he was moody and angry and wouldn't listen to me when I told him not to pull it to the edge of the table. Strike 2.
Desmond futzed with the toys and trinkets he collected last night trick-or-treating instead of putting on his socks, his shirt, his pants, his jacket. And oh my god, for the love of Pete, did you get your backpack yet? Strike 3.
Josephine refused to eat breakfast or get dressed for school and locked herself in her room. Strike 4.
I went on such an angry jag that we all drove to preschool with tears pooled in our eyes or spilling down our cheeks.
When I came home, the last thing I felt like doing was sitting down to the computer to write. But I had a rare two-and-a-half-hour window when all four would be in school and out of the house. I couldn't waste it. My only other time to write is tonight when they're all asleep.
I sat down weepy and angry but within another span of 15 minutes, my mood swung completely. I pulled my wool hat down, jammed my fingers in my ears and wrote. I shocked - and delighted - myself when I named a baby boy Argus. I mean, where the hell did that come from? And later, made myself laugh when I called a girl Violet Berry Brown.
I finished my time with 683 words which is a tortoise pace for this project but lightning fast for me. And now I can't wait to get the kids in pajamas and bed and write into the night.
Reader Comments (1)
Over 600 words with a big mess of kids? That my dear is a bloody miracle. You rock.