robot brains replace
all that i thought i knew with
all i’ve yet to learn.
robot brains replace
So, today is December 17. We’re two weeks out from 2015.
I think it’s time for some goal-spotting. This is in no particular order.
Blog goals: to blog daily, and to write more. I don’t like staring at the blinky little cursor and thinking “I have nothing to write.” I loathe the blank white screen that provides me with no inspiration. I’ve said this more than once, this posting-more-goal, and so far it’s yet to stick. Oops.
Novel goals: I wrote my 50,000 words in November, and would you believe I have plans to start something new? It’s just an idea I have drifting, and it might actually just wind up a novella, but that’s fine by me, because I don’t want to go the Emily Dickinson route of leaving my writings to
fade and collect dust get eaten up by cyberwolves with an appetite for fiction. I also plan to start reworking my novel for publishing, and I’ll probably even look at the first mumblemumble that I started and never looked at again.
(three. three novels already exist, and now a fourth)
Job goals: I would say this goes without saying, but it doesn’t. Today at Agency, I stumbled across eleven jobs in varying degrees of This Suits Sarah. I’ll begin the applications when I’ve topped up my caffeine levels, and hope my eyes don’t blur together after the first five.
Other goals: I intend to get to the next stage of my driver’s licence (erk!) which would be the Restricted. I also want a car, because cars are useful. And shiny. Ooh! I’ve been
threatening saying this for months, but I want to open an Etsy store which will be tied to this blog, because Etsy is awesome and I am awesome. Just for fun.
I think that’s about it. You guys don’t really need to know my goals about penguins and secret pacts, do you?
So, I went through a borderline Kafkaesque maze yesterday. Still recovering.
I started at home, as every day. I went to Employment Agency, where I was greeted and sent off to the Department of Stuff to update my birth certificate. Under an hour later, I had my 2014-issued birth certificate and was back at Employment Agency, where I was put to work doing practice tests.
A handful of practice tests later I sought out Mentor #3, who directed me to the agent place I needed to be. A short fifteen-minute walk later…
I was at the A.A., which is where you get your licence. I stood in a long line, not realizing that I had to fill out the form to bring to the counter. Oops. So I collected my form, filled it in easily (I like filling in forms) and brought it to the back of the line. Many minutes passed, though I could not tell you how many because I was not watching. More minutes passed and I began to wish for some form of entertainment: perhaps a troupe of Christmas carol singers.
And finally it was my turn. I tested my eyes and proved that I am in fact who I say I am, and was shuffled off to sit in the waiting area.
It was a computerised test. I took about twelve minutes of my allocated half hour, and got 33 of 35 right. To those of you who don’t do the New Zealand licencing system, that’s a pass.
Next step is driving lessons.
is this us, always aligned?
round one: the beginning, rewound
to nearly a decade ago.
you, interesting to me among
the rest of the clique.
round two: quite by accident
forget just how long ago.
an anchor to me, wonder
what i was to you.
round three: to be determined
but i think it’ll happen.
i think you agree, maybe.
so let’s wait and see.
hope it’s not too late.
I meant to tell you guys about the Plot I designed for NaNoWriMo, but forgot.
(Can you blame me though? As I said to the employment agency mentor, it’s been a hectic few days)
So, here’s what I did. On Day 1, I wrote around 4,000 words.
Then I went for a week of employment agency induction and then jumped straight into my two weeks of work experience placement – in a library, because what better place for a bibliophile? So yeah, November marched on, and at some point – don’t ask me which point, it’s all a bit of a blur now – I wrote another 4,000.
And suddenly the last week of November was upon us and I thought, “Oh, I really should get back to the NaNo,” and gave it a couple of days of employment agency. It became November 27 suddenly, or maybe the 26th, and so I settled in to write.
42,000 words all just desperate to be written.
So I hunkered down and rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
And I did it. One novel, 50,000 words, in less than a week.
‘Twas a dark and stormy night-
No, wrong story.
‘Twas the month before Christmas, and the Wrimos were stirring. Not a word had been written before, for November the first was upon them, and they merely had their outlines.
And among them a Sarah planned her ideas, thinking of a simple doppelganger tale. The first day, she wrote 4,000, but then she had a phone call from her employment agency.
“To the library with you,” the woman on the other end proclaimed. “You begin on Monday,” she elaborated, and Sarah packed a lunch on Sunday evening and went off to the library without a murmur – for this was a dream work experience placement. She shelved books, and nicked her knuckle on the metal shelf – ah, but it was a library, and there are no complaints.
She intended to continue her Wrimo activities, certain she could do eight-hour days and still write when she got home; alas, it was not to be. And after the first week she picked up her computer, pulled off another four thousand, and crashed into sleep. She’d forgotten to blog too, but posted a brave declaration of intent to post, unfalteringly optimistic.
Only she never did remember, what with the employment agency and the library at the front of her mind, and behind them, the NaNo. Oh, the poor NaNo – abandoned at eight thousand words young. The intent was there, but the actions were not – instead, the blog and the novel both fell by the wayside, until the work experience came to an end, and the employment agency only required presence three days a week.
And now she remembered, in this last week of November. “It’s not too late!” she cried out loud, measuring that there were still some forty-one thousand to be written, and only about four days. Opening the Word document, she read over the work that languished, pretending to collect dust – for it was not a tangible thing, to be held in one’s hand, and could not collect dust.
Placing her fingers to the keyboard, she typed. For the next few days, this pattern was repeated: come home from the agency, eat dinner, then slope off to write. She live-tweeted her progress, and jumped into mini-conversations with other tweeters. She wrote as if possessed, allowing her novel to run away and jump between countries and centuries, creating a second new character and for one brief moment, what might have been a third character – ah, but having a tritagonist was not in the plan, for there was no plan. There were only ideas, haphazardly scribbled on a ratty piece of A4.
Forty-one thousand fell down, replaced by twenty thousand, replaced by five thousand remaining, and oh the speed with which she typed, taking part in a little event called the #1k30min – one thousand words per half hour. Who could resist such a way to bring up the word count with velocity?
And then! On that thirtieth day of November, she typed like the wind. Hovering at thirty-seven thousand, she let her fingers fly, and just before midnight, reached precisely fifty thousand words: no fewer and no more.
She took to Twitter to celebrate, wired on coffee still, and took up the mantle of cheerleader. The first of December showed up, with no fanfare, and she made her new, much more sincere, promise to resume her daily blogging.
blue, too wide to count.
still at the same time
too narrow not to measure.
stare long at the space
try to understand it all.
stare too long too often
try again later and later.
silence could be overwhelming here
then again it’s rather comforting.
streams of ink flow easily
to record everything for posterity.
see here are the archives
these works are all yours.
see in your eyes, infinity.