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Friday, November 05, 2004
NaNoWriMo, and other stuff
NaNoWriMo update
I had about 1100 words done on my NaNoWriMo novel, the one I'd finally settled on doing, about the group of junior high rejects ("minimal research required" being part of the appeal there). I got to a point where I was second-guessing my plot twist, reworking my idea for the middle of the book, and tearing my hair out trying to figure out how to write the darn thing without having it all be either a) a big ripoff of a Babysitter's Club Meets Sweet Valley High coming-of-age novel, or b) a thinly-veiled autobiography. Then last night I was rereading an L.M. Montgomery novel, A Tangled Web, and came across the following character:
"She was only 'old Margaret Penhallow,' with fifty drab, snubbed years behind her and nothing ahead of her but drab, snubbed old age."
All of a sudden I remembered a news story a few years ago in our little town about a double suicide -- the people were really into the Hemlock Society -- which had failed: the husband had died and the wife had lived. I have wondered often since then what the woman's life has been like since that happened. Judging by the lack of sensationally mis-spelled headlines in our local newspaper, she didn't just keep trying until she got it right, which is what you might expect. Anyway, Margaret Penhallow combined with this woman in my mind to give me a whole new idea. So now I have 2500 words written... in two separate stories, because I'm not ready to give up on the first idea yet. I think I may qualify as clinically insane at this point.
Politics
yay.
Other stuff
I took C to the doctor on Wednesday because of the hearing thing. I wrote up a long description of that frustrating day and then ended up not posting it. Suffice to say it involved a rainstorm, non-functioning windshield wipers, an hour spent waiting with the kids in a Verizon store while my faulty phone was replaced (yippee!), and more Hometown Buffet hot wings than were probably good for me. The doctor prescribed two medications: one is an asthma medication, and one's an allergy medication. When the pharmacist told me this, I went, "wha...?" and called the doctor, thus starting a two-day marathon session of phone tag, because -- newsflash -- C has neither asthma or allergies. Turns out that the doctor didn't have her mixed up with someone else's child after all; she just prescribed those drugs because they'll address her symptoms. What-ever. I hope they work really, really well. And that's not just because we're at a total of $70 for this round, either. My poor girl NEEDS TO HEAR. It's, you know, kind of important to me.
Also, T has been really having a bad few weeks of it. Ever since his truck's engine blew, he's been a bit depressed. We're trying to figure out what to do about that. It is such a good feeling to not be in debt. Such a good feeling. I mean, we have a credit card with a thousand-dollar limit that's closer to the top than to the bottom of its capacity, but to be normal people and not have five figures of consumer debt hanging over us has been almost euphorically good, this past year and a half or so. And we have become pretty adamant that we will keep it that way. But for T, if his truck's going to be disabled, you might as well castrate him and get it over with, almost, is his feeling. And it's all well and good to say we'll just hand it all over to God and see what He does, and that's what we're doing, but every once in a while the Signature Loan Devil sticks his head up and cackles at us in a really provoking way. We try to ignore that, because we've been on that slippery slope so many times before -- it starts out as just a couple thousand for a new engine and whatever else you use to fix a truck (I personally still believe there must be some white magic involved, but I digress), and before you know it you're looking at bills that say you owe a total of twenty-something thousand dollars going, "how the heck did THAT happen?" Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt (which says on the front, "Flush Eight Years of Your Financial Life Down the Toilet Now. Ask Me How!"). If only there was a Truck Fairy, eh?
