Javabeans

NaNoWriMo Day 1. If we were using a desert island analogy, this is the day I crash-land on my desert wonderland (hey, on Day 1 it’s a wonderland), a little jarred out of complacency and at a loss for where to begin. I gather the remnants of the belongings that washed ashore with me (my jumbled mess of notes and outlines) and try to arrange them into a semblance of coherency. Gather sticks of ideas, try to fashion shelter. Everything collapses. Throw up hands in frustration. Try again. Forage for island resources. Try to think optimistically.

Of course, in the real world, that translates into something like:

Morning: Sit at computer. Eagerly open Word file. Wait for inspiration to strike and my genius to be unleashed.

Very soon thereafter that morning: Ooh, need coffee. Gotta go make some.

Thirty seconds later: Hm, coffeepot needs washing. Sink full of dishes could use washing too.

Five minutes later: Mm, coffeeee. I wonder where this came from. What exactly is an “arabica”? Must google.

Thirty minutes later: Oops, should get back to work.

Thirty seconds later: Dum. Dee. Doo. Novel novel novel. Write write write. Why is page so white? Mocking me with its emptiness, the blinking cursor taunting, like an annoying older sibling hits you in the face with your own hand: Why aren’t you writing yourself? Why aren’t you writing yourself? Why aren’t you writing yourself?

Five minutes later: Whoa, where did the last five minutes go?

Five minutes later: Maybe I should blog first. To get the juices going, y’know.

Thirty minutes later: Dude, I could have written a page in this time. WILL NOT PROCRASTINATE (any more). Ooh, cookies.

So I’m gearing up for NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, and as with all things, I tend to get obsessive over them. Thus I log into the site to get acquainted with the format so that on November 1, I won’t have to waste precious moments trying to figure out where the damn button to input my current word count is when I could/would/should be furiously getting my magnum opus down into concrete sentences, paragraphs, (dare I hope?) pages, before my early-onset dementia kicks and and makes me forget my words, my brilliant, genius words.

Anyway. I log in. And wow, there’s a profile section where you enter you personal information and bio and upload an avatar and everything! It’s like a home away from home, i.e., a blog away from blog. And since I never met a questionnaire I didn’t like — I signed up for eHarmony just to fill out the personality quiz (nerd fun!) but didn’t progress to the actual dating part and now I am forever punished with loads and loads of eHarm (ha!) SPAM — I filled it out. And clicked around. And read the forums. And the blog.
And dreamed about writing my masterpiece so I wouldn’t actually have to write my masterpiece. (Dreams are so much easier on the ego than reality.)

This is gonna be a fun month. (I predict I may need to redefine “fun” before it’s over.)