No point in dancing around the truth: I am not going to win NaNoWriMo this year. Today I am about 5,000 words short, which means that even if I write the approximate 1,700 words per day necessary to stay even for the next three days, I’d have to somehow flop 5K words on top of that. Not going to happen, despite it being a long weekend (for me). I have things to do, and I’m in pain besides. I’m still going to write this story though. I like it, and it appears to have something previous ones lacked: a plot.
The Daily Prompt: Dancing
I don’t usually express gratitude publicly. I’m grateful for sumatriptan, which usually knocks out a migraine, but I can’t thank a pill—I should thank a scientist. I’d have to research that, find out who first discovered Imitrex back when. A team of scientists? Who knows. I’m glad it’s generic now, wish I could get more than nine pills per month though, since I get more than nine migraines per month. I could, if I went outside insurance, but who can afford that? Anyway, I am grateful for sumatriptan. My NaNoWriMo wordcount is derailed however due to last night’s pain.
The Daily Prompt: Gratitude
Sometimes I hear faint echoes of lives I might have lived, not when summoned, because those are more properly classified as fantasies, but unbidden. Occasionally they’re catalyzed by conversations or actions I observe from others, interactions among couples, or when I run across a career that seems interesting. I could have done anything, but I didn’t. There’s still time, but not much, and I sense the end of it. Numbers have always seemed real not abstract to me and I see my own fading in the near distance. When my time ends, all time ends: the solipsistic universe of me.
The Daily Prompt: Faint
I use everything in my writing, like a depression era cook. Nothing goes to waste. While juicy bits might be served immediately, scraps and fat are not tossed out, but flung into the pot on a slow simmer. Bones and beaks will be cycled back in someday, just wait and see. Feathers float around the stove whispering poems as I stir the plot. Little feet line up on the windowsill awaiting their turn as I sweep broken shells into a corner. Oh, I haven’t forgotten what you’ve done. You’re just lucky my weapon is a pen and not a gun.
The Daily Prompt: Simmer
I’m very particular about Halloween costumes. I’m not a big fan of the ghoulish and the gory, though spectral is a different matter. Floaty ghosties are always nice, as are black cats. I do enjoy an elaborately made-up Day of the Dead ensemble. I like plays on words. This year, I was part of a group costume that illustrated a song. We all chose an element and I was Pink Champagne on Ice. It might not have been scary, but it was a lot of fun. Plus, it was my favorite song: “Hotel California.” Happy Halloween to all my blogfans!
The Daily Prompt: Ghoulish
Never cared much for orange. It doesn’t complement my skin tone and it’s a sharp, nervous color. Hurry up, orange says, we haven’t got all day. While yellow connotes happy sunshine, and red reminds me of romantic valentines, orange taps its toe impatiently, obnoxiously. And don’t get me started on oranges themselves with their nasty little pits and stringy skin. Blech! (If we’re discussing orange cake, that’s another matter entirely.) The juice is fine, especially mixed with mango. But as for the colors, I much prefer to wander among the cool, smooth blues and greens and purples, taking my time.
The Daily Prompt: Orange
After much fluctuating, I’ve decided to do NaNoWriMo. I’m building in five October “cheat” days to make up for my rocking social life, and the first one is tomorrow. I’m getting excited! It’s been a long time since I wrote my butt off for hours, without expectation. I don’t know what kind of novel this will be, or if I’ll even approach the 50K wordcount at all. Maybe it’ll be semi-autobiographical, or perhaps I’ll cut the selfies later. It might be a suspense novel or a romance. For sure, it will have ghosts, real or metaphorical… or both, most likely.
The Daily Prompt: Expect
I’ve never been brave. I don’t like risk, unless the odds are greatly in my favor, or the loss won’t mean much. Why is bravery supposedly a virtue, I wonder? Seems like something concocted by the powerful to get pawns to die for them. The animal kingdom shows us that even predators weigh the odds and try to minimize harm to themselves. Coyotes prefer rodents and rabbits to your retriever. Evolution favors those who seek safety in the familiar, not the intrepid who venture alone into the wilderness. Except when civilization has become corrupted with disease. Are we there yet?
The Daily Prompt: Brave
Sometimes it’s hard not to succumb to mainstream groupthink, even for me, but I try to remember I’ve always been a quiet rebel, from early on. I don’t look like a rebel, and I appear to fit in, but I don’t agree with many things the majority does. Still, I also don’t feel a need to make a big deal about it either. It’s easier these days with more people not following traditional paths. I’m lucky to be around now, in southern California, and not have pesky relatives bugging me. My friends tend to be a little quirky as well.
The Daily Prompt: Succumb
My password was strong and newly changed. The security questions were impenetrable. I used the phone authorization code as a double check. But even with all that, the fraud slipped past me, slithered into my life like an icicle serpent, freezing my mind. Anxiety coiled around me day and night, for I never knew which lie would strike next, or if it would change disguises yet again and morph back into something desirable that I could not resist. Like a brave fool, I tried to play with the snake, and got bitten. The toxin is almost out of my system.
The Daily Prompt: Fraud