Other people call it ‘Halloween’ or ‘the day before All Saint’s Day’ or ‘October 31st’. Around these parts, this day is the last chance to do anything and everything before NaNo starts.
As I write this, it’s mid-afternoon where I am, and I’ve spent my day catching up on some TV that won’t be available online anymore when I’m done NaNoing, along with cutting my fingernails and preparing some assorted foodstuffs for the next week. After the latest episode of Criminal Minds, I settled in to go over notes and get a good picture of the opening scene for my NaNo.
First, Erik hasn’t finished the outline for The Greatest Sin #3 yet. This is not a problem, as I’ve been working on a backup idea on the expectation he’d run a little behind with that. Life, so they say, is what happens while you’re busy getting Doritos, and then you get elected Vice President. Or something like that. (Bonus points if you get the reference.) The point is, that’s okay. Instead of reading over that stuff, I’m perusing my backup NaNo’s character writeups and chapter summaries in preparation for putting Butt in Chair, Fingers on Keyboard (BiCFoK, which has a cheery ring to it out loud) tomorrow.
It takes me about five minutes of running through it to realize that the story is horse puckey. I’m using the wrong characters for perspective, and this whole outline belongs in the trash. This leaves me with a character who was supposed to be secondary turning into my main character, and I’m apparently going to be writing YA urban fantasy with a female protag instead of just urban fantasy. This comes as a surprise to me, to be sure. I was expecting to be writing about an everyman pulled in fifteen directions at once opposed by a Javert-like cop with his own conflicting obligations. Instead, I’m going to be writing about a teenage girl with a burden she doesn’t want.
Brains are weird. You can quote me on that.
Now all I have to do is work up a brand new plot revolving around her, instead of just involving her. And take my kids trick-or-treating, finish up the decorations, find my own costume, make dinner, blah blah blah.
Nine hours to midnight.
No pressure.