Author: slundberg

  • NaNoWriMo Wrap-up: About the letters

    Every year during November, the Cafe comes alive again while we talk about our experiences as we write our novels for National Novel Writing Month. I decided to take a different spin on the “from the trenches” posts as we call them.  We write them the day they go live without another pair of eyes to edit them for us, in the heat of however we happen to feel about our novels at the time. Thus the “from the trenches” designation.

    I decided to write my posts using an extended metaphor of writing being a war zone and NaNo being my tour of duty. That is sometimes what it feels like to a “NaNo Veteran” (those of us who have done NaNo before call ourselves). I was able to project my thoughts and feelings about the writing, the struggle, the excitement, my duties as ML (and the loss of our family dog) to fit the metaphor.

    I did it to give myself an outlet for creativity in a month that sometimes feels like a slog. Instead of dreading my Cafe posts, complaining about how I was struggling with the writing or I was tired and my diet had gone off track completely, I looked forward to how I could turn my usual complaints about NaNo into something creative.

    Please note: I meant no disrespect or offense by this comparison. I do not mean to belittle any actual veterans or imply that writing a novel is anywhere near as important as those in the military serving our country. Or that I have any actual combat or veteran experience. It was simply meant to be a metaphor.

    Thanks for reading. I hope you had a pleasant NaNoWriMo experience and that maybe my metaphor was something you could relate to.

     

  • NaNoWriMo Week 4: Last Letter Home

    I finally received your letter.

    Your news is difficult to accept. One always thinks of the trenches as the place where one loses ones comrades. The news of death at home, where things are supposed to be safe and apart from the battles we fight, has shaken me to my core. Words cannot express my grief at this news. Our poor girl. She will be missed.

    I find that this news colors my last week in the trenches. It should be a time of celebration. The war is almost won. The first wave of soldiers has already made it home. And yet, all I can think about is what will not be waiting for me when I get home.

    In the meantime, I try to refocus my energies and keep true to the task at hand. My victory will still be a victory; I know now that unless an unexpected attack comes, I will succeed in my mission. But somehow this victory seems hollow. The whole experience has seemed tiresome. Not as I remembered it.

    I have a few more duties to complete for my comrades at arms, and then I shall be free to lay down my arms. Possibly for good this time. I have spent ten years dedicated to a cause that I find I no longer believe in. I do not believe I can fight this fight anymore, nor lead people into this fight another year.

    I am tired, my love. I look forward to a long rest when I return. Perhaps I will tell you all about my tour in greater detail when I am back in the arms of familiarity and the comfort of my normal routine again. I cannot tell you how much I long for things to go back to normal.

    Soon, my love. This tour is almost done.

    ~S

  • NaNoWriMo Week 3: Third Letter Home

    Dearest,

    We are at the height of battle. My comrades and I move ever forward, meeting our enemy and emerging victorious more often than being overcome. We have fallen into a routine. Sometimes that routine is thwarted by unexpected obstacles, but still we perservere. The end seems not as far off this week. We have crested the rise, so to speak, and can see in the distance our final destinations. We are encouraged.

    I have finally felt as though I have gotten my wits about me and my feet underneath me. I feel as though I no longer flounder like the rookies. We still have a ways to go and I miss you terribly, but only the length of what we have already endured yet remains.

    I will make it home to you. This is swear.

    All my love,
    ~S

  • NaNoWriMo Week 2: Second Letter Home

    My love,

    My apologies for my lack of contact. I had hoped to write you every day, but there hasn’t been time. My duties seem to gain weight each day, and the pressure mounts each day to keep up with them.

    We are deep into battle now. The casualties are overwhelming. People are falling left and right, left by the wayside. We try to go back for them, but there are so few of us remaining. A mere fraction of us were present at our last campaign.

    It is mostly us veterans who persevere. We know it gets better, even if things seem bleak now. I’m hoping it gets better. This time, I have real fear that I might not make it. I suppose I go through this every tour, but this time has been more difficult than any tour in previous memory.

    Still, each day I put one foot in front of the other. I put on a brave face for my comrades. I will not give up. Not yet. We are nearly halfway there, and so until then, I continue on.

    I do not know when my next contact will be. I hope to write again next week. Until then, take care, and keep us in your thoughts.

    ~S

  • NaNoWriMo Week 1: First Letter Home

    To my dearest love,

    My heart still aches, having left you behind yet again. Each day we are apart, I miss you all the more. I hope you will not forget me while I am away.

    I am writing this note on Day 4 of our tour. We nobly marched into the trenches this past Saturday, and we are all ready to do our part. Emotions are running high for everyone. There is a great deal of excitement and bravado, but also plenty of anxiety and dread. I, myself, have tried to inspire those feeling trepidation, since this is my tenth tour. My veteran status lends me a bit of respect in the trenches, and they often look to me to lead. I do my best not to let my men down, all the while ensuring I fulfil my own duties, as well.

    The food is terrible and sleep is fleeing, but all of this is as expected. We have made progress. We will soldier on. I will write again next week and let you know how we fare.

    Know that I think of you every day, and that we will be reunited again in less than a month.

    Ever-faithfully yours,

    S

  • Won and Done

    I realized I missed posting about NaNo last week. The holiday threw me off. I was out of town on Thanksgiving and had house-guests the day after. I kept meaning to create a post and back-date it, but the week got away from me. I caught a cold, had to work on my final exam, and all of the regular life stuff this week.

    This year, I hit 50k words a few days early, and unlike previous years, once I hit 50k, I was done. I didn’t keep writing. I tied up my character’s story, and then I put it away. I may not get it back out. While I did manage to balance work, class, editing internship, being ML for the region, and writing, as well as regular life stuff that included cooking for Thanksgiving, I never really got into my story. I never had the magical moment of it writing itself. It did take some twists and turns I wasn’t expecting, and the world is just as magical as I had hoped, but I never really felt it. Perhaps it was because I was too busy to really appreciate it and had too many other commitments to get sucked into it. I hope so. I hope writing hasn’t lost its magic for me.

    At any rate, I have bragging rights. I can say I have won NaNo eight out of nine years now. I got to hang out with my writing family so many times this month. I had a lot of fun. I really did. Just not so much with the writing part.

    In January, we here at the Confabulator Cafe are talking about having a writing month just for our group. I’m looking forward to a more relaxed chance to write with the gang. My editing classes are done, my editing internship should be drawing to a close, and I will have all of December to relax and do whatever I want. Perhaps I can capture the magic of writing in January. If anyone can help me with that, it’s my amazing group of writing friends!

  • Still Plodding Along in Week Three

    NaNoWriMo: Day 22
    Current word count: 41,040

    I lost two days to the stomach flu this week. It put me behind on work, but helped me get ahead on my NaNo wordcount and allowed some time for me to start my editing final.

    It’s all downhill from here for me. I hit 41k words yesterday, which leaves less than 10k words to write. I’m no longer afraid that I won’t win NaNo.

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  • NaNo vs. All The Things

    By the time this post goes live, it’s very possible that I will be two days behind on my wordcount.

    Wednesday night, I had the honor and privilege to meet Chris Baty, founder of National Novel Writing Month. The Johnson County Resource Center hosted him, and he talked about NaNo for an hour then opened the floor for questions, and then autographs and talking one-on-one. I made my normal impression that I make on anyone even remotely famous of being a gigantic tool, so I left feeling slightly depressed, but overall, his speech was informative, motivating, and hilarious. I wrote down some of my most favorite Baty-isms, so I’ll have to share them one of these days.

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  • I Survived Week One of Nanowrimo

    Nanowrimo Day 8

    Current word count: 12,180

    The first week of National Novel Writing Month is in the bag, and somehow I am still alive and still writing.

    I knew it would be a challenge, making time for everything I have committed to this month. So I’m not surprised I’m already showing some frays at the edges. I will probably have to hold it together by shear force of will by the end. I feel as thought I should apologize to my friends and family while I still have the mental awareness.

    Sorry in advance if I neglect, avoid, and/or yell at you over the next three weeks. Please forgive me when I morph into a sobbing pile of hormones and emotion. Over and over again.

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  • Daughter of the Wildwood

    I wrote this story for the Writer’s Weekly Fall 2013 24-Hour Writing Contest

    Only one scream ever rivaled the one Madge gave during labor: the scream that came the next day when she discovered the child was not the one she had birthed.
     
    Nobody believed her; both her baby and the impostor had a shock of bright red hair that matched her own. How many red-headed newborns could there be? But she knew her own daughter had been perfect and unblemished. The devil’s mark marred the cheek of the thing that took her place.
     
    A birth mark, nothing more, Madge’s husband Joshua assured her. But Madge was convinced the child was a daughter of the Wildwood.
     
    Autumn became a wicked child at a young age, terrorizing the townswfolk and destroying property. Madge convinced Joshua, who doted on the devil child, to search the Wildwood for their true daughter. He entered the forest but never returned.