Twenty plus people arrive at my home tomorrow. Lots of cleaning, shopping, cooking. For that I give thanks.
We’re celebrating with my mom, who’s still kicking and funnier than she realizes, siblings, nieces, nephews, friends. For that I give thanks.
Growing up, my sisters and brother and mom lived in government housing. I didn’t really notice that we were poor until the holidays. For that I give thanks.
There are no more days like that for us, and never for our children. For that I give thanks.
Thanksgiving Poem
Cardboard charity box,
left on the back porch
on a dreary early morn.
A big mama chicken?
No, a turkey.
Our very own?
Green beans, corn,
lots of corn, cranberry jelly,
a bag of flour.
Potato flakes—
none of us ever tasted those before—
made flavorful with welfare butter,
a yellow block of sunshine.
A table
with more than two items
to go with the grape Kool-Aid
and tortillas.
One parent,
four children,
all together.
For that, I give thanks.
To all my readers, for sharing your generous comments, dialogue, blogs, and books, I give thanks.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and time spent with loved ones this holiday.
Yes, I’m slogging through the madness of NaNoWriMo.
The video above is a good indication of how we NaNo-ites or NaNo-etta’s feel about now.
I could only take three minutes of the video. She’s a good singer–sorta.
I’ve been typing words upon words,
compiling hundreds, then thousands.
Fifty thousand words is the goal; 1,667 words per day.
And I have a head cold. Been in my house for the past three days.
My oldest son feeds me cough drops, meds, and ginger ale.
I’m forcing myself to write. It allows me to not think about the 21 people I’ll have to prepare Thanksgiving for in a couple of weeks.
I’m writing a novel with multi-cultural characters, three generations of women and men, the Mexican culture of curanderismo (that means healers), and a love potion that goes awry.
By this time, I should be at the second plot twist, according to Storyfix. (give or take five pages).
I double checked my pages and yes, I’m close to that point.
Here’s a screen shot of my NaNo page—I don’t know about that novel cover increasing my odds, but could be, it is part of visualization— And, lest I forget, I do have some empty badge area sections:
Writing partner and halo. If anyone wants to be a writing partner, hit me up. I really don’t know how to do this step but I’ll figure it out.
Participating in NaNoWriMo is a great way to a first draft. Far from perfect yes, but useful.
And don’t refer to it as a “shitty first draft,” because it’s not. It’s raw, you put in some effort, yeah, it’s imperfect, just like your first time at bat, or your golf swing, or the first time you made a casserole.
Remind yourself that you started with a goal. You accomplished it. You now have something to build on.
You have words, lots of them, to play with after the first draft is completed.
Well, you probably won’t play with them, you’ll do the edit, delete dance. Then you’ll pull your hair out a few times, and laugh your head off while doing said hair pulling, because you’ll remember—‘member this now—it’s your first draft.
It’s okay.
It will take time and hard work to shape it up, revise, plug plot holes, revise, and love it into being better.
Remember, first drafts can be powerful. Remind yourself that you carved out time for your writing, you set your creativity loose and you were courageous until the finish line (whatever that is to you: 50K or 25K words).
Only 24,610 more words to go.
Write On!
(Please excuses any left out comma’s or other grammatical errors. I’m partially delirious now). Thank you.
alvaradofrazier.com 