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The Return
Nov. 5th, 2006 04:18 pm Well, I've returned. It was a long journey and not exactly the type of vacation I had in mind when I left in late March. I've been out of the United States for many months, much of the time in Viano, a tiny village in northern Tuscany. Friends own an ancient, but cozy stone villa and were kind enough to invite me over during their annual six week vacation. Things became rather complicated along the way, and I ended staying beyond my scheduled visit, staying long after my hosts had left to return to San Francisco.
After Italy, I took trains and rented cars to northern Finland; I wanted to do a little research for a novel I've been kicking around in my brain for a while. Bev joined me, and after a month, we left for Bangor, North Wales, then south to the Cardiff area. I stayed with Blod and the kids after Bev flew home. Dai and I managed a side excursion to northern Scotland and finally succeeded in climbing Ben Nevis, the highest summit in Britain. I was quite surprised at the difficulty of the ascent, not at all what I expected given the relatively low altitudes.
I thought about buying a laptop along the way; it would have been a handy device to get some work done instead of writing the old fashioned way, by pencil and paper; and, of course, it would have been nice to keep in touch with people back in the states. I'm still thinking about the laptop, actually, long after it might have been useful, but I suppose I could lug it around to cafes and other transient locations. But I'm not sorry I didn't have computer access during my travels. I missed the people but enjoyed the peace and solitude. I read like crazy, nearly a book a day, and wrote a little, though far less than I planned.
Only forty-eight people live in Viano, not all of them permanently. The hamlet can boast of a antique stone church, but it's only used on special occasions. There are a few shops, just the essentials and irregular hours, but, similar to most Italian towns, it has a rather sleepy cafe, just perfect for writing and mid day naps.
When I returned to San Francisco, I made the enormous mistake of buying a Sony CD by David Grey, Welsh born, although he's from an English family. The built-in copy protection scheme promptly destroyed my File Allocation Tables. I'd heard about it previously but had inconveniently forgotten the details. I'll omit the nasty particulars, but I spent the next two months or so rebuilding my system. I burned images of the hard drive as I went along; if I'm fortunate, I'll never have to reinstall Windows 98 again.
Next, I threw myself into the task of completing a report on Rhianon76's novel The Dance Master. I had missed every deadline I gave myself for finishing the work, but, in desperation, with Nano just around the corner, I glued butt to chair and ended in a frenzy, 4800 words the final day, perhaps the most I've ever produced.
I mailed it off to her the next day. I hope she finds it useful in some small way.
So now I've enrolled in NaNoWriMo once again, much to my surprise, much to my consternation. I had planned on being well along into the often delayed rebirth of my writing career and could safely avoid another tortuous November. Well, as the summary above indicates, I've done precious little writing during the past year, and Nano might be the best opportunity to find my way back to the path I had chosen at the conclusion of last year's ordeal. So I've made a start of sorts, although what it is I've actually started remains unclear. Last year I made a detailed plan during the last seven or eight days in October. The plan was discarded by the third day in November. It wasn't that the plan was so bad; quite the opposite, really. It was a pot-boiler for sure, but one that might have been entertaining, a good read and some fun, too; but my characters had plans of their own and forced me to follow in their footsteps, although the impressions were usually too faint to make out clearly in my darkened study. Anyway, I've foregone any formal planning this year. I intend to make the whole thing up as I go along, not by design or through sheer laziness, mind you, but because I've had no time whatsoever to make a plan. Thus, I shall proceed and perhaps November will be mine after all, as they say. Or perhaps it won't. We'll just have to wait and see.
To be brutally honest, I did have a situation, not quite an incident but only a situation, in mind for a story; I probably still do, although it seems to have undergone changes of its own volition during the first few days. That's okay, actually; it makes the writing adventurous even as the result becomes totally unviable commercially. But the hell with it. I've decided to post my daily production here, or at least that's an initial resolution; I may have difficulty keeping it, though. What appears will undergo minimal editing: spell checks, punctuation, repairing the most ungainly sentences, but I probably will resist fixing wayward plot elements since the outcome is still in doubt. I'm certain that if I do commit, for some ungodly reason, to continue the work, I'll end changing chapters to sections, section to books and so on. The ages of characters will necessarily be modified, and the dates will be forced into some form of rational alignment. But, at this stage, who cares? Output is the goal; cohesiveness is really expecting a bit much so early in the contest. The first working title was Earth Watch; I've since changed it to Early Winters. At the moment, I'm 902 words off the required 1667 words a day pace, and I haven't started today's segment yet. The beginning of November is a bumpy ride for me. The election is upon us, and I've agreed once more to serve as a precinct Inspector for the San Francisco Board of Elections. Nothing will be accomplished on Election Day itself. I begin work at 6:00 AM and won't finish until about 10:00 PM. Last year, I scribbled about 500 words during a few idle moments. I probably won't be so fortunate this time. The days leading up to November 7th have been dotted with interruptions, hence the word shortfall. Things will move a little better afterward. I've canceled most appointments, except for opera, theater and symphony, only four or five performances at most, all in the evening. It's really not the daily output that matters; it's the hours. Put in the required time, and the words will come. Writing! What an incredible mixture of ecstasy and misery! I'll post the first bits a little latter.
In the meantime, hi to everyone; it's good to be back. Good luck to all the other Nano participants.
After Italy, I took trains and rented cars to northern Finland; I wanted to do a little research for a novel I've been kicking around in my brain for a while. Bev joined me, and after a month, we left for Bangor, North Wales, then south to the Cardiff area. I stayed with Blod and the kids after Bev flew home. Dai and I managed a side excursion to northern Scotland and finally succeeded in climbing Ben Nevis, the highest summit in Britain. I was quite surprised at the difficulty of the ascent, not at all what I expected given the relatively low altitudes.
I thought about buying a laptop along the way; it would have been a handy device to get some work done instead of writing the old fashioned way, by pencil and paper; and, of course, it would have been nice to keep in touch with people back in the states. I'm still thinking about the laptop, actually, long after it might have been useful, but I suppose I could lug it around to cafes and other transient locations. But I'm not sorry I didn't have computer access during my travels. I missed the people but enjoyed the peace and solitude. I read like crazy, nearly a book a day, and wrote a little, though far less than I planned.
Only forty-eight people live in Viano, not all of them permanently. The hamlet can boast of a antique stone church, but it's only used on special occasions. There are a few shops, just the essentials and irregular hours, but, similar to most Italian towns, it has a rather sleepy cafe, just perfect for writing and mid day naps.
When I returned to San Francisco, I made the enormous mistake of buying a Sony CD by David Grey, Welsh born, although he's from an English family. The built-in copy protection scheme promptly destroyed my File Allocation Tables. I'd heard about it previously but had inconveniently forgotten the details. I'll omit the nasty particulars, but I spent the next two months or so rebuilding my system. I burned images of the hard drive as I went along; if I'm fortunate, I'll never have to reinstall Windows 98 again.
Next, I threw myself into the task of completing a report on Rhianon76's novel The Dance Master. I had missed every deadline I gave myself for finishing the work, but, in desperation, with Nano just around the corner, I glued butt to chair and ended in a frenzy, 4800 words the final day, perhaps the most I've ever produced.
I mailed it off to her the next day. I hope she finds it useful in some small way.
So now I've enrolled in NaNoWriMo once again, much to my surprise, much to my consternation. I had planned on being well along into the often delayed rebirth of my writing career and could safely avoid another tortuous November. Well, as the summary above indicates, I've done precious little writing during the past year, and Nano might be the best opportunity to find my way back to the path I had chosen at the conclusion of last year's ordeal. So I've made a start of sorts, although what it is I've actually started remains unclear. Last year I made a detailed plan during the last seven or eight days in October. The plan was discarded by the third day in November. It wasn't that the plan was so bad; quite the opposite, really. It was a pot-boiler for sure, but one that might have been entertaining, a good read and some fun, too; but my characters had plans of their own and forced me to follow in their footsteps, although the impressions were usually too faint to make out clearly in my darkened study. Anyway, I've foregone any formal planning this year. I intend to make the whole thing up as I go along, not by design or through sheer laziness, mind you, but because I've had no time whatsoever to make a plan. Thus, I shall proceed and perhaps November will be mine after all, as they say. Or perhaps it won't. We'll just have to wait and see.
To be brutally honest, I did have a situation, not quite an incident but only a situation, in mind for a story; I probably still do, although it seems to have undergone changes of its own volition during the first few days. That's okay, actually; it makes the writing adventurous even as the result becomes totally unviable commercially. But the hell with it. I've decided to post my daily production here, or at least that's an initial resolution; I may have difficulty keeping it, though. What appears will undergo minimal editing: spell checks, punctuation, repairing the most ungainly sentences, but I probably will resist fixing wayward plot elements since the outcome is still in doubt. I'm certain that if I do commit, for some ungodly reason, to continue the work, I'll end changing chapters to sections, section to books and so on. The ages of characters will necessarily be modified, and the dates will be forced into some form of rational alignment. But, at this stage, who cares? Output is the goal; cohesiveness is really expecting a bit much so early in the contest. The first working title was Earth Watch; I've since changed it to Early Winters. At the moment, I'm 902 words off the required 1667 words a day pace, and I haven't started today's segment yet. The beginning of November is a bumpy ride for me. The election is upon us, and I've agreed once more to serve as a precinct Inspector for the San Francisco Board of Elections. Nothing will be accomplished on Election Day itself. I begin work at 6:00 AM and won't finish until about 10:00 PM. Last year, I scribbled about 500 words during a few idle moments. I probably won't be so fortunate this time. The days leading up to November 7th have been dotted with interruptions, hence the word shortfall. Things will move a little better afterward. I've canceled most appointments, except for opera, theater and symphony, only four or five performances at most, all in the evening. It's really not the daily output that matters; it's the hours. Put in the required time, and the words will come. Writing! What an incredible mixture of ecstasy and misery! I'll post the first bits a little latter.
In the meantime, hi to everyone; it's good to be back. Good luck to all the other Nano participants.