The Nanowrimo letter for this week is from Jonathan Stroud. He ends his letter thus:
“Those old legendary heroes may not have sat around like us drinking cold coffee and tapping steadily at their keypads, but for them—and for us—it’s the journey that’s the thing. That’s where the fun is.”
So, while I’m having fun churning out the words for my Nanowrimo novel I cannot think of a more boring idea than to keep giving you a blow by blow of the process. Therefore I thought that I would start a new category on my blog dealing with what I am reading.
Why?
Back to Jonathan Stroud. Poking around on his website I found his advice for unpublished writers which is:
- Practise: Write as much and as often as possible.
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Experiment: Try as many different kinds of writing as you can.
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Read: As above – as much and as widely as you can.
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Persevere: (i.) Don’t be disheartened by ideas and projects that don’t work out. I’ve got zillions of half-finished things in boxes, assembled over many years. Individually they may not have been any good, but together they pushed me in the right direction.
(ii.) When you’re confident you’ve got something worth showing, send your material to several publishers at once, so you don’t waste time if it’s rejected. But check to make sure these publishers actually do the kind of book you’re proposing! Don’t worry if you get rejections, but listen to any advice.
So I’m going talk a bit about what I read to help me process it a bit better. Basically giving it another thought before I move on to the next book or before I reread it, again.
At the moment I am reading Michael Chabon’s Summerland. I’ll start there and then see where it goes. In addition to just writing about books it also gives me a chance to promote some books I find to be inspiring, good or sometimes deliciously dreadful.
Note: If you don’t care what I read or what I think about the books that I read. Thanks for passing by.
Filed under: Reading, Writing by Gerhi Janse van Vuuren
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Today I’m posting the third extract from a novel I started during my 2007 Nanowrimo attempt. I got to around 10 000 words on that effort before I gave up due to work pressure. It was a good enough excuse at the time.
I am posting it here pretty much as I wrote it a year ago, as a rough draft of a story on which I was feeling the way forward on the half figured out plot.
Clea, who was the first person to comment on my blog (for which I want to thank her) feel the following about the writings that I post:
In all honesty the stories presented on your site are abysmal both in content and construction.
Self-indulgence is not a crime, but it is, in this instance, exceedingly arrogant.
I feel slightly different from her in how I understand self-indulgence and arrogance. But be that as it may. I have chosen to present rough writing on a public platform. I am inviting you to see where I fail on my way to better writing. Enjoy the process if you want to.
Without further ado:
Draft Zero - Excerpt #3
Posted by Gerhi Janse van Vuuren on November 3rd, 2007
Pede managed half a block before a hand pulled him into another alley.
“Pede, I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Pede sighed, silly girl.
“Lebibrity, I don’t have the time or the energy.”
She shakes her head, grabbing his shirt. “You don’t understand, it is very important that I talk to you.” Her face burned with the same furious intensity she had when she told hime they were married after they skinny dipped five years ago.
But that was when they were still in the orphanage. And he didn’t have time or energy for her fantasies now. Not now. Not today.
“Let me guess, it’s abou some sword.”
“I have to tell you about…”
Her mouth dropped open and she stared at Pede. A tear pooled in the corner of her eye.
“Who told you? I wanted to tell you.”
“Nobody told me anything.” shrugged Pede. It’s just this silly idea that floated around in my head and it came out.”
Lebibrity stamped her foot. “It’s not silly, it’s very, very, very serious.”
“Like the time when Matron Mandelen started turning into a river crocodile at night?”
“Pede.”
“Or the time there were demons under the floorboards of the orphanage?”
Lebibrity bit her lower lip. “Pede.”
“Or the time you vowed to bear me four children after we built a castle together?”
Lebibrity’s lower lip started trembling. A second tear pooled in the corner of her eye.
“Or the time you married me in a swimming hole at the river. Promising to love me forever and a day?”
Tears were streaming down Lebirbrity’s face. “Pede?”
“I’ve got to go.” Pede shuffled on. Behind him Lebibrity was leaning heavily against the wall. Her shoulders slowly shaking.
“Okay.” she sniffed “I don’t care. You can die out there if you don’t know, I don’t care anymore.”
Pede stopped. Should he listen to her, talk to her? He shook his head. He has had enough trouble in his life running of on her wild idea schemes. Not again. Not today. He shook his head, trying to clear the muddle in his head.
He shuffled of, a tear pooling in the corner of his eye.
Filed under: Writing by Gerhi Janse van Vuuren
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Yesterday was a very busy day for our family. Therefore I didn’t get to post my extract from a year ago. Here it is.
What I posted a year ago as an extract from my 2007 Nanowrimo novel:
Draft Zero - Excerpt #2
Posted by Gerhi Janse van Vuuren on November 2nd, 2007
Piere Caliun was just out for a stroll with nothing really planned. He was planning to go to town later to see what he could pick up. But for now he was just walking around until he saw it. A whole truck. It wasnít there yesterday so it must have gotten stuck overnight.
And there was nobody there not a soul. So he could just go and and pick up stuff. Whatever people leave behind, they donít want right?
Piere Caliun scrambles into the cab digging around. Half a sandwich… an old grease rag… some clothes under the seat…
Oh, smelly, they would need a wash… and a mend…
A logbook. Slowly Piere reads:
“Cuct-non Tru-cking log-book com-plete a-f-ter each trip”
Not very useful then. Maybe his luck is not so good, there is nothing but rubbish in the cab. Wonder whatís on the back?
Piere Calliun scrambles onto the back of the truck. Ugh, more rubbish. He scratches through the rotting crates. Itís only compost, everything here is rotten. Bloody garbage truck, he thinks when he suddenly see something glittering.
“What have we here?”
His breathing speeds up as he kicks the rotting planks away to see better. “This might be something worthwhile.” He grabs hold of the shiny end.
“Bugger, it’s stuck.”
Iritation flashes through him as he plants his feets, taking hold with both hands and counts himself down “One, two and—”
The piece of metal pulls free with a rusty croak and Piere’s momentum lifts it up high over his head. The point touches the timeline, lighting it up across the valley. Some power flows back into Piereís arms and down into his body right down to the pit of his stomach it feels like somebody is pouring warm honey straight into his body. “Wooaahw! What a keeper.”
On word count I’m doing much better this year. Though at the moment I’m still steaming happily ahead very plotless and unorganised.
Filed under: Writing by Gerhi Janse van Vuuren
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