This means that fall’s foliage is at its’ peak, and the sugar beet harvest is in full swing up here in the Red River Valley of North Dakota.
I woke up this morning to the ground covered in a thin layer of frost. Even had to turn on the heat briefly. With the warm air blowing through the vents, I counted at least four of my ten indoor cats huddled on top of them.
Darn, should have snapped a pic.
October is also the month to prepare for NaNoWriMo (aka National Novel Writing Month) so I’m taking a month-long course with Beth and Ezra Barany to help me plan a novel idea I have.
Like I said in a previous post, I have little problem with finishing short pieces, but a book-length? It IS like running a marathon (I’ve ran 5-ks in the past so I can only imagine what 20-plus miles would be like!) where I almost always fizzle out by the middle, and that’s it.
I either lose interest, or life gets in the way, or writer’s block sets it.
Excuses won’t get the book written.
I need to really look at why I’m not finishing.
Am I meant to be just a short story writer?
I’m unable to accept that.
I may never be a prolific novelist like Stephen King or Nora Roberts, and that’s okay. I just believe that I have at least one book in me that I must write. And this what’s been driving me to try again and again.
A quote by Maya Angelou keeps haunting me:
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
Now that I’m middle-aged, I have this growing fear of dying before I’m able to complete the kind of writing I was meant to do.
It’s a horrible feeling.
One that’s growing worse by the day.
The only one book-length manuscript I managed came during the 2008 NaNoWriMo, and that’s because of my curiosity to see if I could actually write at least 50,000 words.
Since then, all my attempts to write another book have failed.
I think it may be because those stories were not meaningful to me. They were just stories that I had a vague interest in, but as I laid down word after word, I lost interest.
I find that I can’t devote hours and days to something I have no real passion for. Life is just too short.
In my heart, I’ve always wanted to write a story that revolved around fatherhood and daughters. This desire…no, need have grown exponentially since my Daddy’s death in September 2014.
Three weeks ago, I saw a particular news article that gave birth to a story idea for such a book. In taking the above course, I’m working to develop this idea, flesh out the plot/subplots as well as create my two main characters. I plan to use NaNoWriMo as a jump-start to write as many words as I can, but the goal isn’t to win, but to ultimately have a finished first draft by the end of the year.
I believe I have found the reason and motivation to drive me to be successful this time.
Stay tuned for more later.