Nov. 16th, 2010 11:52 pm
janegodzilla: (...fuck)
You know, it's sort of ironic that I made a "yay, I'm caught up" post about NaNoWriMo the same day I got news that completely derailed any desire I had to work on my novel. My desire to write hasn't gone away -- in fact, I'm throwing hundreds of words at everything but NaNoWriMo, because...ugh, I don't even fucking know. Because every time I start feeling good about something I have to sabotage myself, apparently.

I know I just have to ~put my mind to it~ or whatever. I'm just...not doing so hot right now, I guess, and it's because I'm stuck in that stupid waiting phase of grief, where I know what's coming and I can see what's happening but I can't properly grieve because we're not at the worst part yet. And I'm so angry, my god, I can't even breathe sometimes I'm so angry about this. That I have to make this choice, that I have to watch him get a little worse every day, that I can't explain to him that the meds are for his own good and that at some point, probably very soon, I'm going to have to actively choose to end his life. I don't want to make that choice. I really, really don't.

And I feel so aimless. Every day I wake up and think, "Please don't let today be the day," and then even though it's not there's still some little sign that he's inched farther downhill. He was on that plateau for so long that I deluded myself into thinking it would last, but at the end of the day he has terminal cancer in his head and he's dying and there's not a fucking thing I can do about it except make him comfortable and love on him until the day comes when I have to let him go.

Fuck, I'm sorry I keep talking about Ivan. He just keeps slowly but surely getting worse, and it's killing me.
janegodzilla: (lonely)
I have so many half-finished LJ entries lying around that it's not even funny. That's what happens when my brain gets stuck in the NaNoWriMo place, I guess.

The book is actually going pretty well, to the point where I'm giving it a metaphorical side-eye, like, I know you want to start being awful, book, so why hasn't that happened yet? I went with the zombie apocalypse story and I'm still on track with my word count even though I skipped a few nights: once because I went to a Portland Art Museum member's dinner and came home a wee bit too tipsy for writing, and another earlier this week because I'd taken Ivan to the vet that day and some of the news kinda bummed me out. But I managed to churn out a decent amount over the past two days and now I seem to be caught up again. Hooray, and stuff.

It's weird -- part of me is all excited because I think I'm actually going to reach 50,000 words this year, but this excitement is tempered with the knowledge that the story won't even be close to finished at that point. I mean, I just passed 18,000 words and I haven't even gotten the characters out of the city yet! Their journey north and all the shit that goes down as they travel is supposed to comprise the bulk of the novel, so every once in a while I can't help but feel a little intimidated by everything still looming ahead of me.

I don't entirely know what to make of the fact that I've already killed off half my working cast and yet none of those deaths were directly attributable to zombies. IN A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE NOVEL, what the fuck. I also managed to kill off a character who wasn't supposed to die until the novel's halfway point, so...now I have to figure out what to do with the subplot I had planned for him. This is why I'm glad I keep my outlines flexible. Hypovolemic shock doesn't care about your carefully constructed outlines! Hypovolemic shock does what it wants!

("Hypovolemic shock" is more fun to say than "complications from blood loss". Please don't judge me.)

Anyway, I've been sending the draft to Nate every time I hit a 10-20 page mark and he says he likes it, so that's been kind of nice. It's a lot harder to convince myself that I suck when I have an outside party asking me to write more because he enjoys reading it. *hearts*

It's funny -- you'd think I'd be sick of zombies by now, what with ZomBcon (I GOT TO SHAKE GEORGE ROMERO'S HAND ANJNDBHDBHSJDJWJKAL!!!!!!!) and The Walking Dead and Red Dead Redemption: Undead Nightmare and my NaNoWriMo novel and all, but...nope, I'm still feeling the freaky little bastards. As I've written about before, I think it's because they're one of the few monsters that genuinely frighten me. Ghosts and demons are scary mostly in the context of whatever book or movie or tv show they appear in, and poor werewolves and vampires have been defanged to the point of ridiculousness, but your dead loved ones coming back to life in order to eat you? That's scary shit right there.

On a much more depressing note, I have to bring Ivan back to the vet's today for a recheck. He's had complications involving his right eye and I don't think it's doing any better than it was earlier this week, and the whole thing is just really devastating and sad. He was doing so well, you guys, for such a long time, but in the past few weeks I feel like we've shifted into a phase where things are starting to get worse and it fucking kills me. I'm not ready to lose him yet and he's not ready to go, from the way he's acting, but he's obviously in more pain and discomfort than he used to be -- even with the meds -- and it makes me so sad that we're now at the "evaluating his quality of life" stage of things. Right now, his quality of life is still pretty good -- aside from his eye, that is -- but if his eye doesn't improve then he's going to start going downhill really fast and we're eventually going to reach a point where it would be cruel not to let him go.

This is something I don't like thinking about.

He's in my lap right now, purring his heart out. Oh, cat. :(
janegodzilla: (I'M A RITER)
I signed up for this year's NaNoWriMo, because I am a masochist and NEVER LEARN. EVER. *facepalm* Anyway, this year I'm going to make an effort to attend more of the write-ins and events -- the Portland forumites seem pretty nifty, and NaNo is always more fun when you do it along with a bunch of other folks (mostly because you feel a little less crazy that way). I also think I might let Nate read along as I go? He may not want to (I mean, I don’t really know what I’m going to write about yet and I usually change my mind at the last minute anyway), but perhaps letting someone read over my shoulder will keep me out of the “I hate myself and want to die” doldrums I usually hit at 25—30K. We shall see.

Right now, I’m trying to figure out what this year’s catastrophe of a novel should be about. I don’t really want to work on the zombie detective novel, because I’m already a few chapters into the rewrite and that would be cheating. Also, that book is frustrating. I need a NEW project to be alternately excited and angry about!

Unfortunately, I’m one of those people who gets a lot of ideas but has difficult transforming said ideas into a working plot. There are a few genuine plots bouncing around in my noggin, but most of the things in there right now are of the “X meets Y, with a little Z thrown in for good measure” variety. Becuase I am predictable, Z is usually some flavor of Lovecraft. Here are the ideas I’m currently noodling over:


I’ve also been doing a lot of worldbuilding for a giant epic fantasy universe, but that world is a little embryonic yet and I don't think it's ready for full-length novels. I’m kind of leaning towards the post-apocalyptic zombie world right now, mostly because the others would involve a lot of research, if by "a lot of research" you mean "more research than I'm willing to do at this exact moment." Plus, I’ve been watching “Life After People” on Netflix, and I’m sort of enamoured with the idea of a run-down, overgrown zombie world. Decisions!

P.S. Thank you for the little dragon, [livejournal.com profile] inker_alpha! He is mighty adorable.


janegodzilla: (Default)

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