Today marks the official start of NaNoWriMo and my wise husband has warned me not to try to boil the ocean. “Just write a post each week, babe. Something manageable.” I know he’s right, BUT DOES THIS MAN NOT KNOW ME??! When I get an idea I don’t just run with it, I hoist it over my head and head for the hills! Some live their lives at a comfortable simmer, frequently I’m more like a full steam roiling boil. When I read that New York Times article yesterday I was like, “Oh. Okay.” But then the pot started to simmer, and it got me thinking of so many other things I’d done before. Like moving to Maine, or writing a cookbook, or having a baby, or trying out for roller derby when I’ve got a chronic disease that gives me vertigo. I don’t pretend to understand the way my mind works, I’m just a captive under its spell.
I just read an article in the New York Times about NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, the project in which thousands attempt to write a 50,000 word novel in just 30 days. It starts tomorrow (November 1st) and runs through the end of the month. I’d never considered participating before but 1,667 words per day x 30 days = HOT BAM! you’ve made a BOOK.
A Saturday stroll through the Fore River Sanctuary; our favorite Portland trail!
Our attic is BIG, roughly 1600 square feet, and rises 1.5 stories above the rest of the house. When we moved in 9 years ago, it was filled with all sorts of stuff. Built-in cabinets and shelving, semi-framed walls, and lots and lots of flies. The space had served as a workshop and storage area for the former owner whose fondness for collecting left it filled to the brim. Wood was everywhere; stacked in piles, propped against surfaces, arranged on the floor. Honestly it was hard to see the forest for all the trees. Here’s what it looked like in 2009.
You know how it feels when you’re so dog-tired you’re almost delusional?