NaNoWriMo 2018 Update 2

NaNoWriMo is going super well, thanks for asking. Ha ha. No, don’t look at Scrivener.

Damn.

Look I can totally explain all the red text. Those are just notes. About how badly it’s going and about how I don’t know what order things should be in or when things happen or which characters to use in which scenes. And also about how I’m not totally convinced by my own plot.

Joking aside, my word count is fine I’m just worried that this novel is going to take even more editing than my writing usually takes. Which is annoying because when I can work out what a scene should actually be the scenes usually come out pretty good.

I now have a new writing table which means I can sit on a comfortable seat while writing. Hopefully this will help. However I am deep in procrastination. Things that I have done when I should have been writing include manicures, mobile games, stress eating, online shopping for Xmas presents, multiple trips to the pharmacy and housework.

I finally got to see a doctor about the question of whether I have rheumatoid arthritis in my hands. Apparently my inflammatory markers are only slightly elevated so maybe not and if I do then it’s very early days. I’ve been prescribed gel NSAID painkiller to apply to my hands. It seems to work. Now I just need to remember to use it even when my hands are not hurting.

So good luck to all you other people NaNoWriMoing this year and my the writing gods have mercy upon our souls.

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NaNoWriMo 2018 Update 1

For the duration of November I’m going to be focusing this blog on NaNoWriMo because I’m focusing everything else on NaNoWriMo and I like things to match.

As I write this it’s day 4 and I’m on track to hi 50,000 words early and hopefully get to the approximately 60,000 that I think is a good length for the first draft of the story that I’m trying to write. Things are going well. I don’t hate my characters yet, the plot still works and my body hasn’t started rebelling.

This year my support team (by which I mean those of my friends and family who are not taking part in NaNoWriMo) are being unusually supportive. So give them a quick virtual cheer. It’s pretty thankless being an unpublished writer’s support team. They get most of the hassle of NaNoWriMo but they don’t get the creative rush or the potential feeling of accomplishment and it’s not like there’s any money in it.

Good luck my fellow writers. May the words come easy to you.

Belated Sunday update for 28/10

I wrote a Sunday update post as usual but I threw it out because it just devolved into a rant about injustice all triggered by the additional pain I’m in because of my broken writing chair. I don’t like myself very much at the best of times but I hate who I become when I’m in that much pain.

I genuinely do not know what I’m going to do about writing. I’m always in pain but there’s only so much of it I can ignore. I need to be relatively comfortable in order to write anything other than semi coherent rants. You can’t build a novel on semi coherent rants unless you’re a famous, rich, white guy.

I also don’t know what I’m going to do about this blog. While I can write it in shorter bursts there’s kind of no point if I’m not writing anything else.

Anyway. Here’s my Ko-Fi link if you have a desperate urge to send me money.

Are my Wednesdays cursed?

Last Wednesday I had an incredibly shitty day and I wrote about it here. This Wednesday I spent the day in crippling pain. The kind of stabbed-in-the-hip-with-a-rusty-breadknife, 50-point-IQ-drop, can-barely-spare-the-brain-cells-to-speak sort of pain that people really don’t want to hear about when they ask you how you are. It was the kind of pain where sitting hurts, standing hurts worse, and laying down is by turns either much better or much worse.

And then my chair broke. My writing chair. The only chair in the house from which I can type and put my feet up. I was too tired and sore to work out what was wrong with it so I went to bed. This morning my other half tried to fix it and found out (by sitting on it) that the central post it swivelled on was completely sheared off.

So my writing chair is broken beyond repair. I have no money for a replacement. It’s NaNoWriMo in five days. I don’t even know anyone I could borrow the money from. I can’t ask my mother. She’s still in hospital and she’s gong to have to spend thousands on handrails and a stairlift so she can go home.

The most annoying thing is that I should have a chair. Local Councils are supposed to supply equipment to disabled people who need them. I used to have a rise and recline chair that was perfect for my needs but I had to give it back to the Council when I moved. In my new area there are so many people who need them that the Council only lends them to people undergoing end of life care at home.  You need to be literally dying to get a comfy chair.

If you’re wondering why I don’t just go and buy one of these fancy chairs it’s because the kind I need starts at £1800. That’s why I had to pay for a cheap and shitty one that lasted just under two years and now I can’t even afford a cheap and shitty replacement.

So here’s my Ko-fi link. But don’t feel bad about not clicking it. Even if every single reader clicked through and donated the cost of a cup of coffee I still wouldn’t have enough to buy a new chair. I’m only doing this so that when I complain and people ask me if I’ve tried asking for money on the internet I’ll be able to say yes.

Sunday Update 21/10

Well this has been a week of disappointment, anticlimax and annoyance.

I already wrote a detailed post about the Wednesday from hell so I suppose this is the place to talk about the fallout from that day. I knew when it happened that I’d be useless for the rest of the week and this has proved to be true. I haven’t been able to do much around the house at all and I’ve been on painkillers and vaping CBD for pain every day since. Things are beginning to get a bit easier but I reckon it will be next week before I’m back to normal. And let us not forget how shitty normal is for me.

No major news about my mother and although I hear that she is continuing to recover there’s still no timetable for her getting back home. I’m still working on a lighter weight poncho for her. It’s taking so long because it uses much finer yarn which takes longer to work up. Also the ongoing problem with my hands is slowing me down.

I finished part 5 of my current novel this week. Well… I finished it enough to show it to my beta readers. That means there’s still a lot of work to be done but at least I’m not fixing this part on my own.

Sharing a file with my beta readers always feels like a huge anticlimax. Not because my beta readers are bad, or lazy or cruel, just because there’s no reaction that would match the build up. There’s so much work in getting my writing to a state that I’m happy to share and it feels like a major milestone but it’s not. The story is very slightly closer to being finished. It’s just another step along the road.

This week I’ve had trouble shaking the feeling that it should be possible to find an agent and get published. Other people do it. There are supernatural thrillers and occult police procedurals being published all the time and my work isn’t that different. I am undecided about what to do.

And another excellent new episode of Doctor Who. Rosa marked a new high point for th series as a whole. I predict that people will be talking about it alongside episodes like Vincent and the Doctor for years to come. I’m sure there are people who’re going to complain about how political this episode was and to them I say, “Have you not been paying attention at any point in the history of the show? It’s always been political.”

A day in the life of a Spoonie

Let me tell you about how yesterday went.

I woke late in the morning and debated having a shower. I wanted the shower, I probably needed the shower but I didn’t have the shower because I needed to save the spoons for getting dressed and going out. I eventually persuaded my aching and uncooperative body out of bed around lunch time. But only because I had an appointment.

I had spent a week trying to get an appointment with a GP at my local practice but ended up settling for an appointment with a nurse practitioner. It’s not that I have any problem with nurse practitioners it’s just that I wanted a potentially complicated problem diagnosed and I think that’s something that doctors are better trained for.

I walked to the surgery even more slowly than usual because my left ankle decided to be a whiny little bitch. It was swollen and painful and it was like walking on a leg that has a spike through it. It’s the kind of problem that I often have to deal with and while it doesn’t stop me from going anywhere that I really need to be but it does slow me down and make me regret being alive. In the end I was only 3 minutes late which is not bad given that I’d got the time mixed up and thought my appointment was 10 minutes later than it actually was so in my head I was 7 minutes early.

Because my appointment was with a nurse practitioner I decided to shelve my original plan of saying something like “my hands are messed up and I’d like to know why” and risk raising the spectre of self diagnosis with “I think I might have rheumatoid arthritis in my hands and I’d like to find out and maybe get it treated while my hands still work”. The nurse asked my why I thought that and I was able to answer with some reasonable basis for my hypothesis – pain in my fingertips, leading to swelling in my finger joints, and hey this finger is crooked and no longer bends properly also my mother has rheumatoid arthritis.

I left with an appointment in 2 weeks to get blood tests and another one a week after that to discuss the results of the tests with a GP. The nurse also told me to try a low dose of ibuprofen to deal with the inflamation.

So I hobbled home and got some ibuprofen on the way. I don’t normally keep it in the house because I’m asthmatic and on the whole asthmatics should avoid NSAID painkillers like ibuprofen.

As I entered the pharmacy to buy the Ibuprofen I passed an older white man who said, in a petulant tone, “You’re welcome”. At first I was confused. Was he talking to me? There wasn’t anyone else around? I hadn’t asked him to do anything. I hadn’t spoken at all. He did stand back for a couple of seconds to let me enter before he left. Was he expecting me to thank him for waiting two whole seconds to leave the pharmacy? For allowing someone with a walking stick and in obvious pain to enter instead of pushing past me to get to the carpark? Who knows.

Got home. Now in absolute agony. Like incoherent with pain levels of agony. Decided that it was a good time to try ibuprofen, and also paracetamol (acetaminophen for American readers) and tramadol (synthetic opioid). That succeeded in killing most of the pain but then my eyelids started swelling up in a clear allergic reaction to something. Maybe the ibuprofen but maybe just pollen, I do have hayfever and I had just been outside.

Which was when I realised that I hadn’t bought any antihistamine the last three times I went to the shops. Because I’m a fucking idiot.

We searched the house in the hopes of finding some antihistamines somewhere but there were none. Which meant that one of us had to leave the house and go and buy some. And by one of us I mean me. I’d just spent more than a week trying to talk my spouse into leaving the house but social anxiety and agoraphobia is a nasty combination and the fact that walking anywhere causes them terrible back pain doesn’t help.

So I went back out again. Yes I went back out on my ankle that felt like it had a spike through it. Now with added swollen, horribly painful and not really working very well eyes. And I walked back to the pharmacy where I had bought the ibuprofen.

When I got there it was full of bastards. No, not really. Just full of people. That’s just how it felt to get there and discover that it was suddenly packed with people all of whom were in the queue ahead of me. And the reason for the queue was that the pharmacy was short staffed. So the queue wasn’t moving much. And everyone in the queue ahead of me wanted to complain about the queue. Which meant that the staff had to explain, yet again, about the staffing issue and then apologise for the wait before they could begin to deal with whatever the customer actually wanted.

And of course all the time I was waiting i was standing. On my ankle with it’s imaginary spike through it. Eventually I got to the front, spoke to the pharmacist and she sold me eye drops and tablets that I could safely take together. And then I just had to get home.

I’m fine today. Well fine-ish. Ok it was gone 3pm by the time I got out of bed, I still haven’t had that shower and it’s going to be days before I’m able to do much in the way of housework but I’m not actually dead and apparently that counts as a win.

Everything is terrible.

It’s not just my imagination, is it? We are all fucked. And not in the good way. Politics is fucked. The climate is fucked. The economy is fucked.

In theory it’s not too late. All these problems are fixable. Even the climate. We’ve fixed similar problems in the past. London fixed its killer fogs. China fixed its population growth. Europe fixed its acid rain problem. The world reversed the damage to the ozone layer. It’s not too late to reverse some of the damage, reduce some and prepare for the rest.

But that’s not going to happen. Have you seen the people in charge? Those that are competent enough to do something either lack the will or the power. Our politics is so badly fucked that it will take a generation to fix it and by then it will be too late to do much about the environment.

I don’t think we’ve destroyed the planet. We might have made it uninhabitable for humans but I don’t think so. As a species we’re pretty adaptable. I do think we’ve destroyed our current civilizations though. We might be facing a huge collective loss of technology.

Most of us alive today will probably live through horrible and traumatic change. Our lives are going to be a lot harder and much shorter. I say ‘our’ but since I’m reliant on modern medicine I don’t expect to live through any kind of societal breakdown.

Of course I could be wrong. We could turn it around. We’re pretty smart when we’re not being incredibly stupid. There is still time for someone to come up with something brilliant.

I wish I could believe that it would happen.

Sunday Update 14/10

This has been a big week for birthdays. We celebrated the births of my spouse, my son and my mother. This week also saw a brief visit from the in-laws. I have been unusually social and as a result I am knackered. But not in a bad way.

My Mother is still in hospital recovering from her broken arms but she continues to make good progress. I’m still working on a poncho for her which means I haven’t done any more spinning.

My mother, in her usual ‘helpful’ way, has suggested that I start a new business selling hand crocheted ponchos to people recovering from shoulder and arm injuries. I don’t know how she thinks I’m going to find those people to sell stuff to them. I also don’t know where she thinks they’re going to get the money from. It’s at least £30 of yarn plus 10 to 50 hours of my time (depending on pattern). She’s still not ready to give up on the idea of me being able to make money at something.

Speaking of which, I am starting to give head space to the idea that If I want people to read my stories I’m going to have to give them away. I wrote a post about this that you can read here. I still haven’t come to a decision though.

November is fast approaching and with it NaNoWriMo. I have quite a lot of prep done for my own writing but I feel like I’m falling behind on my prep as a Municipal Liaison. I should be doing more to organise meetings and write-ins. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Perhaps it’s just that with such a rural region it’s hard to find meeting locations that everyone is happy with.

I’m continuing to work on the rewrites of my current novel. I might even have fixed that one scene that I just wasn’t happy with and that was keeping me from sending part Five to my beta readers. Maybe. I might look at it again in another couple of days and hate it just as much as before.

Just watched the new episode of Doctor Who and it was another belter. My only problem was the epic faff necessary to watch it. Our Tivo, which we have through Virgin Media, took multiple restarts to play sound. So we missed the beginning of the episode. So we tried to watch it from the start on the iPlayer app on the Tivo. Which would play sound but no pictures. Couldn’t get that to work even after a hard reboot and recalibrating the Tivo. Ended up watching it using the iPlayer app on the PS4. Worth the effort but I am not happy with Virgin. I pay a lot of money to them every month and I expect the kit they give me to work when I want to use it.

Changing perspective

I’ve been thinking recently about what I want from my writing. I want to get paid, obviously, but maybe that’s not possible. Certainly any traditional system of remuneration seems to be cut off from me and any non-traditional system relies on already having an audience. So what else do I want?

I want people to read my stories. I owe it to the stories. Right now they only live in my head and when I’m gone I’ll take them with me. They deserve to be read.

Maybe I should focus on putting more stories online? I have a whole novel that I could cut into installments and then put up on my fiction blog. If I get enough readers maybe it would be worthwhile going the Patreon route or upgrading my Ko-Fi account to a gold one?

Or alternatively I’ll have like 10 regular readers and that will just be soul destroying.

 

 

Sunday Update 07/10

This week a character in my current novel revealed a completely new ability which is very interesting but it’s kind of late in the day now that I’m most of the way through the third draft. I suppose I could cut it out but it’s such a good ability that I’m mostly pissed off I didn’t think of it sooner.

As regular readers will know my mother is currently recovering from surgery after breaking both arms. I live too far away to do much for her so I’ve been crocheting ponchos because they’re easier for her to put on and take off now that she has trouble getting her arms into sleeves. I finished the first one last Sunday and then made a triangle scarf with the leftover yarn on Monday and posted them both on Tuesday. She seems pretty pleased with them. I’m already working on another poncho.

This week my trip outside the house was to see the wonderful wildlife cameraman Doug Allan talk about his life and work. For a man who mostly works behind the camera he’s a surprisingly charismatic speaker. He has that energetic enthusiasm that it’s hard to resist being charmed by and he’s also funny and smart. The talk was fascinating and entertaining but also compelling. As a professional diver who taught himself to be a camera operator after a chance meeting with David Attenborough he makes an excellent argument for having the courage to do new things. He’s also a powerful science communicator. I don’t think that anyone could walk away from his talk in any doubt about global warming.

Until this week I’d never had cause to go to any of the local theatres so I didn’t know how reasonably priced they are. Also, because of my disability, I qualify for a concession ticket price and a free ticket for a carer. The visit was more fun than I was expecting and I will definitely be going back.

And finally, Doctor Who is back on TV and I am delighted. I watched the first episode of the new series with the new Doctor, Jodie Whittaker, and I loved it. Showrunner Chris Chibnal made some very interesting choices that I would never have made and over the course of the series they could come back to bite him in the arse but over a single episode they seem to have paid off.

I look forward to the right wing press frothing about the female lead, the diversity of the cast and the fact that it was set in the North of England. I predict that they will attempt to simultaneously complain that the show is childish and also too violent and tragic for a kids’ show. I can’t wait to see the next episode.