Thursday, November 4th, 2004 • 1 Comment on Politics Aside
It will be a long, long time before the bitter taste fades. It might take four years, in fact. I’m angry, sad, bewildered and yes, bitter. I don’t like the direction our country is headed, the divided road we are paving for ourselves. More than one person has apologized to me since last night, apologized to me. These are people who voted the same way I did and who are as unhappy with the results as I am, but they apologize as if Bush winning the election was somehow a personal affront to me. Maybe it’s because I’m taking this more personally than other people. I’m too old to be so damn idealistic, but this is the only way I know how to be. I want to live in a better world than we’ve been handed for another four years. I want it, but I’m not going to get it. Damn.
Meanwhile, NaNoWriMo is moving right along in nonpartisan fashion. My daily word count has been decreasing, but that may be because I was off on Monday and had more time to write, while yesterday was eaten up with the election and mourning the returns and today was about trying to sleep in (it didn’t work) and working. I’ll bump the word count back up by next week (I hope).
Truth is, I can
50,000 words in a month. That really isn’t a huge challenge. That equates to about one ten-page paper per day. Remember the ten-pagers of your college days? Imagine writing one of those every day for a month. Honestly, it’s not so difficult to put the words on paper (as long as my wrists hold out—I predict the carpal tunnel will start acting up in another three or four days). It’s not even so difficult to string together scenes that have some sort of chronology and cohesion. The difficult part is in trying to hang on to my writing voice as I write—the humor, the edge, the sarcasm—instead of resorting to utilitarian writing. That kind of writing—quick and serviceable though it may be—is boring.
I can go back later and liven up my scenes with humor. I know that. But in order to maintain my enthusiasm, I have to entertain myself with what I’m writing as I go. If the words are dead in the page, this project is going to be dead in the water before I get to the end of the month.
It’s hard to write funny when I’m so damned depressed. But I’m trying. I’m trying.