In Why Would a Girl Follow a Boy into the Woods? I shared that I’m halfway through NaNoWriMo 2013. My dear new writer friend, Narrator, congratulated me, and said, “That’s kind of like being in the middle of a river. Can’t go back, must go forward or it’s just going to wash you down stream.”
The comment stayed with me… for yesterday was one of those days when I had to swim in AlmaMia’s world while dying to aim my strokes in a different direction. I stuck with Wishing upon Earth and Bone—yay stubbornness!—even if my heart was wondering about Luna Bravo, Leonardo Drake, Sweetooth, Wendi, J.D. the Butcher, Ele, Eme… Pre-Chaos.
Before I say more, I must point out that I’m very glad to be doing NaNoWriMo; not so much for me, but because the venture persuaded my beloved Kestril to start fleshing out a novel that has been in her mind for some time. After you read it, you’ll see why I’m so excited.
So, if NaNoWriMo-ing is so wonderful, why am I almost sure that I won’t participate in it next year? Easy: what keeps me interested in storytelling (and in writing fast and excitedly) is the fact that I get to switch back and forth between worlds. I love spending a couple of days in the woods of El Monte with AlmaMia, the voices of the Caribbean land, the dead… and then flying to Pre-Chaos, New York, to combat flesheaters and delight in the magic of the Mythica Stones.
I enjoy the freedom of being able to stop in the middle of the river, relishing in the caresses (or gentle smacks) of the current on my skin, while I decide if I want to swim to the other side—at the same speed I had been maintaining—or just backstroke forward while wondering if I want to take a detour (or have a drink with a friend). *Wow, that’s a monster of a sentence, isn’t it? And nope, I am not editing it.*
And this is not about deadlines and speed; if I couldn’t follow routines and meet deadlines, I would starve to death. I’m not sure what it is, exactly. I guess, I just like doing my own thing, in my own way, at my own pace… Does that make any sense to you, my Wicked Luvs?
|“1930s typists in a swimming pool with a Royal No.5 (aka The Flatbed) typewriter.”|
I can’t stop giggling at this image ;-)