November Novel Writing Month

I'm in the run for the annual NaNoWriMo http://www.nanowrimo.org/ this year. Last year, I found out about it too late, but a great writer friend of mine reminded me! The idea is to write an entire novel in one month...no editing, just writing. This is a great way to get past the "what do I write about" stuff and so far I've already got over 5,000 words (50,000 words needed). My goal is to have 10,000 words by the end of the weekend.

Because of this and other writing goals, I probably won't post much, but I'll let you know when I ass the finish line.

The Spirits in the Sounds

I remember being warned by well meaning, devout people that spirits lived in some forms of music. I remember being told that certain songs, when played backwards, gave homage to spirits that are evil.

I think they are wrong. I think that all music has some spiritual connection and that, on certain fall days - or any days -- a song, a soundtrack can touch me in ways that nothing else can.

I was out today on deliveries, while the trees snapped with color and the smell of fall was everywhere. I am listening to the "Elizabethtown" soundtrack and the sense of journey was so present in those moments that I yearned for the road to take me wherever it may.

There is a sense during Fall - the season of transition that calls out to me for change and renewal. And yet, deeper still, is the call of something that is unchanging, for something that never changes. Those two tensions evident in the changing of the leaves and the pursuit of traditions and holidays, make this a time of year that is perfect for reflection.

I am taking a few days off this week after a hectic schedule. Today, I luxuriated in an afternoon nap and felt not the least bit guilty. I read for hours, listened to music and then reluctantly, did a few things that had to be done, like those deliveries. And yet, even in that sense, I was enjoying the drive, enjoying the thoughts and promises of new things to come.

I see the changes in my children as they play basketball and finish homework. They are real people now, with lives that don't always include me. I find that fact both refreshing and terrifying, that someone whose once existence depended upon me is now happily eating Cheetos with friends, playing video games, not even considering me in the least. Such is the life of a parent when Cheetos is a higher priority than mom or dad.

And yet I find great satisfaction in this, too. Like a sense of "hey, we did it. we raised somewhat normal, adaptive human beings -- all from a few things found around the house." There is a sense that we're at a wonderful crossroads that will yield both new things and new directions.