The Past Indeterminacy


I started my first day of Camp NaNoWriMo at just under 1400 words. Not too shabby for someone who just registered several hours ago.

Don’t ask me what the novel is about. I don’t know.

When I read something that was poorly written, I can’t finish it. I close the book or magazine and pop it onto the bookshelf. Maybe it will find its way to Goodwill or to a second-hand bookstore. Either way, it wasn’t enough.

As a reader, I know what is good writing. Characters that intrigue me. Plots that keep me from falling asleep. Words that capture every fiber of my being that I realize that I haven’t moved for HOURS.

As a writer, I am terrified. Sometimes I look back at what I have written and I think, “Oh geez, and then what would have KATNISS done?” Or “That’s nice. Didn’t SOOKIE [or some other character everyone has read about] do that too?” Do I not have one single originial thought in my head?

Even now the 1400 words may be an amalgum of everything I’ve read in the past five years. I’m too afraid to look back.

Tonight I had a half a dozen writing sprees in between putting the kids to bed, feeding the cats, and putting the dogs in the garage. Life still goes on.

But I am not looking back. Not this month.

Do my blog posts count towards my word count? No? Oh, okay.

Soyrizo (yes, chorizo made with soy) and eggs, topped with Tapatio hot sauce, salsa, and sour cream. Huh? Eating healthier? When did this happen?


Some sort of black bean and corn salad thing I threw together. Two cans of black beans, rinsed then drained. A can of corn, drained. Cilantro, onions, tomatoes, salt, pepper. Olive oil and lemon juice. Another healthy meal? What? WHY?


2 thoughts on “The Past Indeterminacy

  1. Pingback: The Pacing Fluctuation « navywifechronicles

  2. I’m gonna let you in on something I came to terms with, but first I’ll set a background. I’ve read thousands, if not 10’s of thousands of stories. Since graduation 12 years ago I’ve managed 200-250 novels and books a year, a few hundred short stories and hundreds of articles.

    Not one isn’t inspired by another. Much to say, I can relate every book and its transpiring events to many other stories.

    I’m not saying they are repetitive, I enjoy the way a yarn is spun differently by each person.

    The true stories from peoples lives grasp my interest, no matter the dull moment or life changing types. From speaking to many authors of all calibers, the passion of their characters is derived from those people in their lives. The relationships, the hate, the sorrow.

    One particular author I met at a young age, and spoken to many times over the years, draws her feelings and experience into her books from her siblings and kidlets. She also told me that she is yer to meet an author that does not recieve help from someone when writing. Her latest where heavily influenced by her children.

    So my advice to you is write ya bloody story, even if your muse is another story. Don’t be afraid to ask advice or ideas from those closest to you. And lastly, feel the emotion inside, see it and even if the words don’t quite say it, write it.

    But, I’m just a dumb miner, what’ would I know.

    Good luck.

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