NaNo and IE
Monday, November 12, 2007, 6:01 PM

NaNoWriMo
I'm no longer feeling the urge to reach 50k and win. Nope, I'm just going to aim for some kind of story momentum.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm trying to write too confusing of a story. A my eyes were bigger than my stomach kind of thing. There are a lot of issues in my story I know little about. I don't even know what to call my Spy Organization, which is going to be its own character in my story. So it has to be good. I've been puzzling over this one for quite a while. I've got some great ideas, but I have to base the name on something believeable...also, something I can write about intelligibly. The names I've come up with so far are either Hindu or Biblical in nature, or relating to numerology.

I can fill a shot glass with what I know about any of these ideas, rules, history or beliefs.

But I think I'm on the right track in tying the Organization to religion. It's just...all I know about it is what I read in the Left Behind series books (I've tried to read the Bible, but it gives me a headache).

Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh.

IE
Basically, I have to do more research before I can write on because I can't get rid of my infernal editor. I don't see it happening. Ever.

Once I learned how to write--learned about all of the mistakes I used to (and still) make, learned how to spot mistakes in other's writing--that was it. I haven't been able to write by the seat of my panties since. I've tried, believe me, and I'll keep trying.

An awful snippet from this weekend (posted just to show that I AM working on this):

Daren found her restless and pacing the floor when he opened the door to her room the next day. She swung in mid-stride to face him, and the hem of the of the two-sizes too big nightgown [to make her feel all the more little girlish] swirled at her ankles. Her eyes—topaz-colored and startlingly bright against the dark brown of her eyebrows—took him by surprise. He’d seen photographs of her from three years ago, before her attack, before she’d begun wearing the disguises; at 22-years-old, she was beautiful enough that she should have been radiant in that beauty, self-confident, strong. Instead, he’d seen only that her eyes had been stark with unhappiness. But now, the unusual color, which made him think of a cat’s eyes, seemed like a (fricken-fracken something I can’t think of).

I don't want to focus too much on the COLOR of my character's eyes--it's the feeling (the impression you get in just two seconds of meeting someone's eyes) I want to communicate. And then! Then I want to move on to what's really happening (and it ain't people noticing the color of each other's eyes, dang it).

Just. Nothing's happening yet.

Chit.

I refuse to roofpread this post furhter.

2 Did the Unhingey Jiggy Engage in Unhingenosity
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .