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  • #31
    I am printing this out and taping it to my forehead.
    Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

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    • #32
      STOP SELLING OUT, ISADORA!

      Oh, wait. I mean yes! Definitely sell out. He's wrong about that one.

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      • #33
        Yeah, I'm a sell-out.

        It's embarrassingly true.
        Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

        Comment


        • #34
          It took me ten days, but I finally finished the prologue that was kicking my butt so hard. Feels good to kill a couple of people, too. This book had an seriously low body count!

          Which means that now is a good time to watch some Teen Wolf. Aw, Stiles loves Lydia!

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          • #35
            YAY!

            Love that Teen Wolf is your reward. You should just call it Poor Man's The Vampire Diaries: PMTVD
            Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

            Comment


            • #36
              Oh, and I just forced myself to add a scene to my NaNoWriMo madness. I'm still on target with word count: 35,440! Yeeps.
              Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

              Comment


              • #37
                You are only about 10k behind me, and I started way before you!

                That's what setting a daily word count will do for you. I really need to consider doing that.

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                • #38
                  The writerly routines of famous writers: http://www.theatlantic.com/entertain...utines/265480/

                  From EB White: A girl pushing a carpet sweeper under my typewriter table has never annoyed me particularly, nor has it taken my mind off my work, unless the girl was unusually pretty or unusually clumsy. My wife, thank God, has never been protective of me, as, I am told, the wives of some writers are. In consequence, the members of my household never pay the slightest attention to my being a writing man—they make all the noise and fuss they want to. If I get sick of it, I have places I can go. A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.
                  Jack Kerouac: I had a ritual once of lighting a candle and writing by its light and blowing it out when I was done for the night ... also kneeling and praying before starting (I got that from a French movie about George Frideric Handel) ... but now I simply hate to write. My superstition? I'm beginning to suspect the full moon. Also I'm hung up on the number nine though I'm told a Piscean like myself should stick to number seven; but I try to do nine touchdowns a day, that is, I stand on my head in the bathroom, on a slipper, and touch the floor nine times with my toe tips, while balanced. This is incidentally more than yoga, it's an athletic feat, I mean imagine calling me 'unbalanced' after that. Frankly I do feel that my mind is going. So another 'ritual' as you call it, is to pray to Jesus to preserve my sanity and my energy so I can help my family: that being my paralyzed mother, and my wife, and the ever-present kitties. Okay?
                  Susan Sontag: Starting tomorrow—if not today:
                  I will get up every morning no later than eight. (Can break this rule once a week.)

                  I will have lunch only with Roger [Straus]. ('No, I don't go out for lunch.' Can break this rule once every two weeks.)

                  I will write in the Notebook every day. (Model: Lichtenberg's Waste Books.)

                  I will tell people not to call in the morning, or not answer the phone.

                  I will try to confine my reading to the evening. (I read too much—as an escape from writing.)

                  I will answer letters once a week. (Friday?—I have to go to the hospital anyway.)
                  I find it very encouraging that Susan Sontag had to fight procrastination.

                  Simone de Beauvoir: I'm always in a hurry to get going, though in general I dislike starting the day. I first have tea and then, at about ten o'clock, I get under way and work until one. Then I see my friends and after that, at five o'clock, I go back to work and continue until nine. I have no difficulty in picking up the thread in the afternoon. When you leave, I'll read the paper or perhaps go shopping. Most often it's a pleasure to work.

                  If the work is going well, I spend a quarter or half an hour reading what I wrote the day before, and I make a few corrections. Then I continue from there. In order to pick up the thread I have to read what I've done.
                  Well, I'm glad it's such a pleasure for you, Simone. She hangs out with her friends from one until five! It's like the ideal Parisian life.

                  Haruki Murakami: When I'm in writing mode for a novel, I get up at 4:00 am and work for five to six hours. In the afternoon, I run for 10km or swim for 1500m (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at 9:00 pm. I keep to this routine every day without variation. The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it's a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind.
                  Beeksus, Murakami. Make everyone else look bad why don't you.

                  Kurt Vonnegut: In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me. I'm just as glad they haven't consulted me about the tiresome details. What they have worked out is this: I awake at 5:30, work until 8:00, eat breakfast at home, work until 10:00, walk a few blocks into town, do errands, go to the nearby municipal swimming pool, which I have all to myself, and swim for half an hour, return home at 11:45, read the mail, eat lunch at noon. In the afternoon I do schoolwork, either teach of prepare. When I get home from school at about 5:30, I numb my twanging intellect with several belts of Scotch and water ($5.00/fifth at the State Liquor store, the only liquor store in town. There are loads of bars, though.), cook supper, read and listen to jazz (lots of good music on the radio here), slip off to sleep at ten. I do pushups and sit-ups all the time, and feel as though I am getting lean and sinewy, but maybe not. Last night, time and my body decided to take me to the movies. I saw The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, which I took very hard. To an unmoored, middle-aged man like myself, it was heart-breaking. That's all right. I like to have my heart broken.
                  Vonnegut, I love you.

                  There are several more in there, including Benjamin Franklin and Maya Angelou. Also, there were a bunch of links to writerly tips by the masters at the end.

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                  • #39
                    I now feel completely justified in avoiding Murakami.
                    Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

                    Comment


                    • #40
                      The kiddos are spending the night at my mother's house in TN, so I've been able to work for eight hours straight. I feel so virtuous! I can't say anything terribly inspired is occurring, but at least I've gotten a ton of editing and re-writing done.

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                      • #41
                        I am fast falling behind this whole word count madness! I spent the whole day getting a tree and running errands and I didn't get around to writing much yesterday either! Ugh. Stupid holiday weekend during stupid NaNoWriMo.
                        Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

                        Comment


                        • #42
                          Well, in the eight hours of work, I re-wrote the prologue a third time, and edited/re-wrote the first five chapters. So even though I have been very industrious, I don't *feel* like I have made forward progress because I didn't add much to the word count. I need to stop obsessing about numbers, I guess, because what I did had to be done regardless.

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                          • #43
                            That's some of the most important work you can do! I'm awful at it and I hate that part!
                            Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

                            Comment


                            • #44
                              YOU GUYS.

                              I have 48 hours to finish NaNoWriMo and I have 48,408 words.

                              Let's just sit with that for a second.

                              Unless I get hit by a bus or something? I GOT THIS.

                              I am disproportionately proud of my non-accomplishment.
                              Itís just really honestly so tiring and emotionally draining to have to get upset over reality constantly.

                              Comment


                              • #45
                                Oh, YAY.

                                That is so awesome.

                                Good job! Don't forget to post pics of your trophy.

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