![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_d_hI've always been intrigued by NaNoWriMo. I've always enjoyed creative writing, with no concern about whether it would "sell" or not, but it looks like I needed this Pandemic Quarantine to get through the entire month, though I'm only 2/3 of the way now, but ... having never made it this far, I'm realizing: Wait, I have to figure out how to end this story on November 30! Where is this going? :-)
This series of stories started years ago with a spontaneous short story about Chris, an unhappy clone, one of the first human clones, coming to terms with who he was and with his creator and why he was created, then forging an independent life for himself. Later I wrote about Matt and Alex, and Matt meeting Chris -- but all this a couple decades later. With Tate thrown in on the side -- I don't think that was for NaNoWriMo, I think it was also spontaneous creative writing.
But last November I wanted to do NaNoWriMo, and I started off with Tate's mother Talon, and made the story mainly about Tate, except I had to travel for work in mid-November and totally lost my thread. And it was kind of YA, about the Problems of a Teen. But that work travel was too stressful! No room in my head for all these characters. Also trying to hang out with friends in Chicago, making it into a leisure trip.
[I still remember, a handsome young man playing a guitar and singing, inside a used book store, me having an instant crush on him. While simultaneously feeling depressed because the person I'd wanted to meet that night had flaked on me. Sad, but, look at that beautiful young man, just a few feet away from me. Such beauty exists on this planet.]
As K was leaving for Portland, I knew I needed some art therapy. First I went after music, but because I'd lost my files from last time, the learning curve was going to be steep. It was easier to slide into NaNoWriMo, because I write a lot all the time already. Last year I'd proven to myself I could keep up the required word count pace, to write a novel within a month. I still want to do music! But right now I'm writing. Writing. Writing. Thinking about Writing.
And it's fun! I'm finally having fun, doing something new and creative, during Quarantine. And now suddenly doing more "new" stuff -- interacting with sexy fellas online.
Goddess, the past two months have been a lot. The entire year has been a lot. Ever since I realized this Pandemic was going to fuck everything up. And then it did. And Trump still won't let go.
-----
The best thing about being 53 -- I'm more comfortable being me than ever before. I'd never go back to being younger. I wasn't yet myself. I think -- probably the 50s is when human males get to know themselves best, before the aging process becomes overwhelming. But we'll see how long I can keep this going, heh.
This series of stories started years ago with a spontaneous short story about Chris, an unhappy clone, one of the first human clones, coming to terms with who he was and with his creator and why he was created, then forging an independent life for himself. Later I wrote about Matt and Alex, and Matt meeting Chris -- but all this a couple decades later. With Tate thrown in on the side -- I don't think that was for NaNoWriMo, I think it was also spontaneous creative writing.
But last November I wanted to do NaNoWriMo, and I started off with Tate's mother Talon, and made the story mainly about Tate, except I had to travel for work in mid-November and totally lost my thread. And it was kind of YA, about the Problems of a Teen. But that work travel was too stressful! No room in my head for all these characters. Also trying to hang out with friends in Chicago, making it into a leisure trip.
[I still remember, a handsome young man playing a guitar and singing, inside a used book store, me having an instant crush on him. While simultaneously feeling depressed because the person I'd wanted to meet that night had flaked on me. Sad, but, look at that beautiful young man, just a few feet away from me. Such beauty exists on this planet.]
As K was leaving for Portland, I knew I needed some art therapy. First I went after music, but because I'd lost my files from last time, the learning curve was going to be steep. It was easier to slide into NaNoWriMo, because I write a lot all the time already. Last year I'd proven to myself I could keep up the required word count pace, to write a novel within a month. I still want to do music! But right now I'm writing. Writing. Writing. Thinking about Writing.
And it's fun! I'm finally having fun, doing something new and creative, during Quarantine. And now suddenly doing more "new" stuff -- interacting with sexy fellas online.
Goddess, the past two months have been a lot. The entire year has been a lot. Ever since I realized this Pandemic was going to fuck everything up. And then it did. And Trump still won't let go.
-----
The best thing about being 53 -- I'm more comfortable being me than ever before. I'd never go back to being younger. I wasn't yet myself. I think -- probably the 50s is when human males get to know themselves best, before the aging process becomes overwhelming. But we'll see how long I can keep this going, heh.