one step at a time
Well. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.
Then I had a 5k Stream last Tuesday night.
Yes. I wrote over five thousand words in just a couple of hours on my regular stream which happens Tuesday nights on YouTube.
I hit my 30k goal and just kept on rolling
So I’m back in the game. I can see the end and I am almost there. Just another couple of streams like that and I’ll win.
What’s your goal for Camp Nano? Have you hit it yet? Will you by the 30th?
Join us for a 10k day on Saturday, April 13th, as we tackle the Muddy Middle of our Camp Nano projects.
Bring your own project to work on or just come to cheer us on. We’re starting at 8AM Central/9 AM EST
We’ll alternate sprinting and chatting and keep each other encouraged to hit 10k words in one sitting. You’d be surprised how difficult that is, but it’s easier with support. Whether you have your own writing project or need to do chores, catch up on reading or homework; whatever you do we’d love to have you. Come and be part of the fun.
Are you ready?
Nanowrimo Update: I didn’t win, but I got my story more or less mapped out, and that’s a kind of win. Time to put away the manuscript and work on other things. My focus in December is rest and special time with friends and family, so don’t be worried if you don’t hear from me until the new year. It’s how I take care of myself.
Let’s talk about December.
I struggle this time of year and if you do too you might like this JINGLE HELL
If you’re Advent-oriented, read my series on PEACE, JOY, LOVE, and HOPE
If you’re a writer, I wrote special editions for you. Here’s your Peace, Joy, Love, and Hope.
If you’re into fiction, I will have a four-part story for you in January. In the meantime, you can read
BURCH 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7, and JUSTINE 1 ,2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 for a refresher.
The prompts for the January story are in JUSTINE: THAT’S A WRAP
I hope you have a very merry Christmas, happy holidays, and a splendid new year.
Best wishes for 2024!
Slow week this week and it’s only going to get busier.
DAY 12: 327
DAY 13: 31
DAY 14: 2,361 during the stream
DAY 15: 65.
DAY 16: 1,336, better, but still not where I want to be
DAY 17: during the stream, 2,667
DAY 18: 784 and forgot to update, so lost my streak.
Even though this hasn’t gone as I planned, I’m still proud of myself for doing it and for keeping up with my progress. I’ve learned a lot, as usual.
What’s your current word count? Are you going strong or stuck in the muddy middle?
I did not start writing at midnight. I have almost always done that, even if I only got a few words in, but this year it didn’t happen.
Oh well.
I still got over 2k words the first day like I wanted, even though that was a work day.
Day 2: was a buffer day, so I didn’t have to get any words, but I wanted to maintain my streak, so I wrote 3839 and hit 5k!
Day 3: was another writing day, but I didn’t hit the 4k I wanted. I still managed 2189 and hit my goal for the day.
Day 4: was another buffer day but still hit 2319.
Day 5: Hit 10k!
I’m so excited. You could say this is my favorite time of the year.
It’s a new beginning at the end of the year. Very poetic.
I made a list of the last 5 things I need to do before NANO starts, and I should have them all accomplished by midnight so I can open a new document and begin again…
I made a grocery list early in the month that I need to transfer to my phone
(pro tip: always keep your grocery list on your phone)
It’s full of nutritious and delicious snacks and meal ingredients for November. What are your NaNoWriMo essentials?
This is it. the last little bit of looking stuff up or making notes on characters, settings, plot, and world. From here on out there will be nothing but writing forward, heedless of typos and technical difficulties. We will get the words.
I need to go over these one more time. Last chance to fill in the blanks. It’s the part of prepping I hate most, so I tend to put it off, but they can be invaluable when I get stuck. If you want a copy, CONTACT ME.
Outline is another fill-in-the-blanks game, and I should have all the plot gaps sewn up before midnight tonight. Of course, they might not do any good…
It will be interesting to see how this month’s outline stacks up to the November 1st deluge. I can never predict what will happen when I start writing, but I will have all the plot points in place just in case.
Last chance to do all the writing things that are not writing.
NaNoWriMo can probably be done without rewards, but I don’t recommend it. I have a system in place to reward myself every 10,000 words. The one I’m most excited about? Probably my Etsy cart. What about you? Do you reward yourself? Maybe a chocolate every 1667 words? Sounds pretty good, right?
See you on the other side!
Well, what did you think?
Could you see the ending coming? Are you intrigued? Confused? Satisfied?
Can you guess the four prompts that led to that story? Here they are!
I’m extending the offer. Comment with four random words, images, or prompts, and I will write you a story here on the blog.
It’s that time of year again.
What are you doing to get ready?
I’m planning to follow the rules and start typing on Day 1, but I’m still prepping another novel in October in case that’s the one I want to work on in November. I’d love to hear your thoughts about Justine or your projects upcoming. Just leave a comment below.
Until next time.
Inside the box was a girl’s wonderland. Dolls and ponies and makeup and nail polish, long ago dried up. Little girl’s toys and all the latest fads from the last decade maybe more. It was all brand new. A pink CD player and a couple of unopened CDs of the kind of kids bop little girls dance to. A bead kit for making bracelets. A stuffed rabbit and a pink teddy bear. Little notebooks with rainbows and shiny raindrops. Coloring books. A cash register set with cash and coins. Shoe-tying games. A doctor kit. A tea set. A science kit. Perfume spray. Hair accessories. Everything a girl could want from toddler to teen.
Justine wondered vaguely how much all this stuff had cost and how much it was worth altogether. What was this stuff? Why did he have it? What in the world? She put the box down on the bed.
She started to dig. Not everything was unused. Little things: erasers, small stuffed animals dingy with love, chewed-on pencils with smiley faces and rainbows. Near the bottom was a pile of construction paper art and cards for various occasions. This was some little girl’s stuff. A real little girl. This was…she opened one of the cards…her stuff. JUSTINE it said in little girl’s handwriting, big capital letters with a heart dotting the I. She thought she remembered it, though who could tell. Still. She had no doubt this was a box of stuff saved from and then bought for her.
Justine sat down very slowly on the edge of the bed, the stack of papers in hand.
Everything became still. She could hear the dishwasher sloshing in the other room. Her heartbeat was in her ears. She felt sweat popping out on her forehead. She flipped to the front of the card. Sure enough. Father’s Day. From one of the good years then. She felt suddenly angry. How dare he? Her mind went through a list of a million things he had missed. All the things. She didn’t even remember him, he’d been gone that long, and all this time he’d been, what, hoarding stuff for her? Waiting for her? What?
She shuffled through more papers. Many were blank birthday cards but a few had writing in them. “Wish I could be there” “Love you bunches” “Growing up so fast!” As far as she knew, as far as her mother had told her, he’d left and never looked back. She found herself wondering if he had a different story. It looked as though he did. He’d lived here, how long? Ages she thought, and never made contact?
Why hadn’t she known her father was less than 20 minutes away her entire life? Thinking about her. Wanting to see her. She felt the tears welling up again.
Was it her fault? Had she believed blindly and missed an opportunity to know him? Was he a jerk who walked out on his family? Someone who loved and missed his daughter? Something else entirely. She didn’t know. Couldn’t know.
Justine heaved a heavy sigh. She tossed the papers back into the box. She still had the bathroom to clean and she felt wiped of energy. Maybe if she took a nap. She didn’t like the idea of staying here that long, but she shrugged it off. It would be ok, she thought, just 20 minutes. Technically this was her place until the end of the month, and she would have to drive home in the dark no matter what. She set the timer on her phone, grabbed her coat from the other room, and spread it on the bare mattress. She crawled onto the bed and lay down on her coat. After a moment, she sat up, pulled the stuffed rabbit from the box, and cuddled it.
Within minutes, she was asleep.
She started in the living area. Dusting and wiping down the surfaces. She fluffed the couch pillows and vacuumed the spare carpet. Then she moved to the eating area and kitchen. Wiping down the table and countertops. Putting the few dishes in the dishwasher and setting that running. Rinsing the sink. Dusting the blinds and wiping out the fridge. Mopping the floor. She made good time.
She took a break before tackling the bedroom, resting with her back against the kitchen bar. She thought she’d feel more. Thought this would be harder.
She pulled the sheets from the bed with one tug and stuffed them into a garbage bag. She shimmied around the mattress, which was nearly the size of the whole room, and dumped the contents of his nightstand drawers without examining them. She shimmied around to the other side of the bed and did the same with those drawers. Then she hit the bathroom. Everything went into the trash. She’d come back and give it a scrub after she finished with the bedroom.
Just the closet left. There was no other furniture. Justine opened the door and was overwhelmed with a powerful scent. It was a mixture of cologne, sweat, mothballs, and something else. Something both familiar and distantly dangerous. Strange man.
Justine inhaled deeply. She shook herself out of her reverie and retrieved a fresh garbage bag. Many of the shirts and trousers looked old and out of fashion, but she couldn’t in good conscience throw clothes away when so many went without. She passed a homeless shelter every day on her way to work,. She’d drop his things off there.
As she came back into the bedroom, she once again noticed the smell. His smell. It had to be. She didn’t know it, but it meant something to her all the same, and she realized she was crying. Slow tears leaked down her cheeks.
Justine wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of one of his shirts. She had been sitting on the bare mattress, clutching his things and crying for the past half hour. No chance of leaving before dark now. She stuffed the last of the clothes into the garbage bag on top of the shoes and tied it off.
She was about to close the closet door when she remembered the top shelf. She was shorter than most men, who would find that shelf an easy reach. Now that she looked up there she was sure she saw the edge of a box when she stood back and on her tiptoes. She dragged a chair from the eating area into the bedroom and pulled down a big and surprisingly heavy box
There was no name or writing. It was folded shut in such a way that the contents weren’t visible without opening it. It was dusty. No telling how long it had been up there. A long time.
Justine opened the box
Oranges. Or grapefruits. Something round and yellowish in color. They were moldy. Sinking in the center under the weight of their rot. Justine fought the urge to gag. She went straight for the cabinet under the sink and, by some miracle, found garbage bags there. She had brought some, but they were still in the car with her other cleaning supplies. Justine dumped the overripe fruit into the bag where it made a slick thunk. She returned the cut glass bowl to the counter, then changed her mind and put it near the sink.
There were dishes in the sink. Not many, but enough to block her. A mug. A plate. A knife fork and spoon. On the other side of the double sink were the cooking pan, a spatula, and a pair of tongs. All had been rinsed, but not washed. Justine braced herself and then opened the dishwasher. Empty.
Interesting.
She made the rounds looking for other trash but she found little. Some old junk mail. A mailer or two with no return address, empty, some back issues of manly magazines. Field and Stream. Tractor Today. Men’s Health. Only one Playboy.
She went back to the kitchen and washed her hands. Opened the fridge. Same story. Fairly empty. She didn’t smell the milk but dumped it down the drain. Everything else she tossed in the bag. She might have to wipe down the shelves, but this wasn’t going to be a big cleaning job either. In fact…
Justine looked around again, more carefully. She didn’t see much in the way that did need to be cleaned other than a good freshen-up. She could be done with this in an hour. A wave of relief washed over her. She would leave the dishes and any supplies he’d had and tell the complex to deal with them as they would. She would take nothing. She would clean and turn in her key and leave this place and never look at it again. She would forget this day and that phone call and that anyone by his lousy name ever existed.
Justine marched back out to her car. She used her keyfob to pop the trunk and retrieved everything she thought she’d need. If she found duplicates in the apartment, so be it, she’d use them and save her own, but she was not about to tromp out here every time she needed something. She managed to get the trunk closed without dropping anything or locking her keys in, and she made a crooked hobble back to the apartment hauling too much stuff.
After she’d locked the door behind herself again, she stripped out of her winter gear and surveyed the space. She washed her hands again and donned cleaning gloves. She wasn’t touching anything that belonged to him. Next, she put on her headphones and pushed her hair back from her face with a workout headband. She got down to work.
litewings.ink 