I’m up to 5,068 words in my latest endeavor of writing a novel in 30 days. Three things I’ve discovered so far:
- Classical music is the best music to listen to when I’m writing
- I have to rid myself of distractions if I expect myself to write creatively
- It’s not about the numbers; it’s all about the content
I never thought of myself as one who likes to listen to classical music, but I happened upon a Classical Music for Focus station on Amazon Prime Music and instantly fell in love with it. Most of it anyway. Some of those old guys can get pretty crazy on the piano.
Facebook is the worst distraction for me. I am reminded of the scene in “Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead,” where the kids are watching TV and the grouchy old babysitter comes in and turns it off. “TV rots your brains.”
That’s the same feeling I get when I look up and realize I’ve spent on hour surfing my friends statuses, instead of working on something productive.
Fifty-thousand words sounds like a lot. And it is! But when you break it down, 1,667 words is not that much to write in a day. Besides, focusing on the story, rather than if I meet my goal that day, is the most important aspect to reaching my goal.
With that being said, what I like most about tracking my words, is that it motivates me to keep moving forward. It also forces me to rid myself of distractions (even though I do need a little down time now and then. Writer’s Block is a bitch.)
Here is another excerpt of my novel, so far.
Edge of Eternity
Nancy woke up to the sound of her little sisters arguing.
“MOM!” one of the twins screamed at the top of her lungs. Frustrated, Nancy moaned and pulled the covers over her head. She heard the girls run down the hall, slamming the door behind them.
“Oh my God! Shut up!” Nancy screamed as she threw the covers off . “Why?” she shouted to no one in particular.
“Why do I have to share a room with such brats?” It was a rhetorical question, but a serious one.
She begged her mother for her own room, citing several legitimate reasons. “I’m five years older than they are …. They’re slobs …. They keep me up all night ….”
And that was just the beginning.
Her mother was sympathetic, but told her it was out of the question. “I need the extra room for my office. Now that I’m doing more work from home, I need the space.”
Nancy stumbled to her dresser and pulled her clothes out for the day. Her notebook was not in the same place she left it, under her clothes. her sisters had a bad habit of getting into her things.
“You brats!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She grabbed her notebook and ran down the hall to her mother’s room. She pushed the door open and held up her notebook.
“They’ve been snooping again!”
The twins came up behind her and ran to their mom for protection. “No, we weren’t,” they chimed in unison.
Her mother looked at them sternly. “I should hope not, especially after the talk we just had.”
Nancy growled under her breath and stomped out of the room. She knew it was pointless; the twins always got what they wanted.
She got dressed and skipped breakfast, still frustrated with her mother’s inability to solve the growing problem with her sisters.
Her best friend, Kathy, was waiting for her at the corner; the same corner where they had met every morning before school since they were in 2nd grade. It was exactly half-way to school for both of them. Kathy lived four blocks over on Carson Avenue.
“What took you so long?” Kathy asked, a look of concern shadowing her face.
Nancy frowned and shook her head. “Sorry, the twins were in my stuff again. I have to find a better hiding place.”
Kathy nodded sympathetically and changed the subject.
“Are you still going to Donna’s party tomorrow night?”
Before Nancy had a chance to answer, she felt a swish beside her and instinctively moved over just as Eddie Salaman whizzed by on his Schwinn.
“Sorry!” he yelled, glancing back to see who it was he nearly sideswiped. He nearly collided with a stop sign, swerving just in time, but careened over the curb, hitting the pavement extra hard, instead.
Kathy broke out in laughter. “Serves him right,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “He should watch where he’s going.” When Nancy didn’t say anything, she added, “You know he likes you, right?”
To be continued —