Ali and I went to Ming’s I (1038 S. Clinton Ave.) for dinner. We went a few weeks ago and again on Halloween but on this night we played it smart and got soup: the kind where you pick the dominant meat or vegetables and pick the kind of noodles. It’s the best thing going: it’s tasty and generous.
Last year I signed up for National Novel Writing Month but I never even started writing anything. This year I told myself I’d commit to it. The gist is to try and write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. Obviously, it’s not about writing the best novel, just a novel. My profile includes the stats for how far I’ve come so far. Yesterday I wrote 1455 words which is short of the 1667 needed to hit 50K in 30 days, but it’s a start.
I titled it “Memoirs of an Idealist”. I’m trying to embrace the philosophy of starting from a kernel and letting it grow on its own. I also have no illusions that this will be any less “semi-autobiographical” than any other author’s first novel. And in so, I’m drawing from my inner demons — the ones that wake me up at 3 in the morning and present me with an impossible situation to challenge my ideals. They follow the same theme of trying to crush my individuality, whether it’s an authority trying to make a uniform world, or some jerk trying to impose their ideals.
Writing the first chapter was painful to think back on. I just forged ahead with almost no editing. It was horrifying. I didn’t go back to fix any missing parts or to try and fill in details I thought I’d needed. But by the end of it, things are starting to flesh out. I’ve got inklings of several characters and I have no idea what they will do or be like yet.
This morning I signed up for 41 Pounds that is a company that claims to reduce junk mail by 80-95%. They basically send in your name to be taken off common advertising mailing lists. The gist is that you will get less than the average of 41 pounds of junk mail each year. It costs $41 for five years.