life, on writing

celebrate me home

Entering November, I was certain only of my motivation to finish 50K of a novel. That may be saying a lot–like my willingness not to see cheap movies or leave the house on days off or I dunno, keep friends–but life is comprised of a thousand tiny moths that nibble at the threads of our days. Who knew what would turn up to take a munch?

WHAT IS HOPE?  One evening around Thanksgiving, I enjoyed a farang meal with some friends for the holiday–duck with cranberry stuffing, string lights, Fleetwood Mac and the Beatles played acoustic style by a bearded Southeast Asian man–and heard myself, when asked, saying the dreaded words, “I hope.”

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We should quit this word.

True hope may be expounded upon with more demanding and rosy-cheeked expressions like “plan” and “intend” and “will.” My personality tends to be a conglomerate of qualifiers and situational grays anyways, so when a goal becomes little more than a hope…  I came home, happily full, well-socialized, and artistically more uncertain than before.

img_0042CARRYING ON  Jet was a fab creative companion, however. We stayed up many midnights together: me whacking away at my computer into the wee hours while she warmed herself behind the screen, looked out the window at the bats flickering past the fluorescent street lamps, or sprawled out on my bed, warming the Hill tribe blanket–though in this tropical weather, it was the last thing I needed.

RUBBER MEETS THE ROAD  At perhaps the most crucial point of NaNoWriMo, I had to make a visa run to the Land of Malls–a huge city in the south of my country.

It was an excellent get-away day.

I did not have to go into Immigration until the following day, so I booked an early flight, picked up some Lebanese sambosas, and enjoyed a free afternoon and evening in my rented apartment. There was even air-conditioning! Between instant coffee, leftover naan bread, and yummy 7-Eleven snacks, I knocked out over 4,000 words in one night–securing my climb into the 40,000s word mark.

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After my morning at immigration, I headed over to the airport early and got myself a coffee (Starbucks is an expensive treat-yo-self type thing for me here!). Then I trudged through another 1,000 words while waiting for my flight back to the north. The scenes I knocked out were ones I had been dreading–a “first language lesson” scene (where my MC starts to engage the Deaf world) and a “first guy interest” scene (where my MC actually  shows some interest in a male who doesn’t intimidate her). Speaking of which, I learned, over these 48 hours, that my MC is not a big wuss like I first supposed. “Kit” got some spunk, and I liked finding that out.

Amazing what a lack of sleep will discover for you.

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DID SHE MAKE IT?  Ament ament halleluyer, she did! Though I hovered at 49K for about four hours–so close to the finish line, I swore I could taste it–I finally broke through and reintroduced my favorite character as a final treat to myself.

51K, can you believe it!

Check that crazy climb. I’m pretty certain my stats went down one day.

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CELEBRATION  Though I have not finished the story, I am still writing! And I knew that, if I did not pause to celebrate my victories, the massive Word doc would get stuck in my “Stroll in the Creative Mind” folder for a waaaaay future rainy day, mostly out of sheer exhaustion.

Celebrate your victories!

So upon reaching my goal, my friend Erin and I went to meet our neighborhood nails lady (new salon for the win! though my Thai is atrocious and it’s only by charades that she understood me) and get pedicures. Then to the cheap movies! Interestingly, I’ve never wanted to go see a Thai movie before–from the commercials and the one or two I’ve seen, they are usually a bizarre blend of romance, horror, and meepy Hallmark drama–but I was intrigued by “New Year’s Gift.”

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Keep reading for spoilers and a taste of my host culture 😉

The story follows three couples: the first, a recent MS graduate and a heartbroken choir student who have to “block steps” for a visiting President and his wife, and after a day of philosophical discussions about the enduring nature of love, a confirmed breakup with her cheating boyfriend, and several selfies later, they end up falling for one another with the promise of long-distance dating (song: “Sun Down”); the second, the manager of that graduation who returns home to take care of her ailing father after her mother’s unexpected death and ends up learning piano from a cute piano tuner, in the hopes that playing their favorite song on their wedding anniversary will reverse her father’s Alzheimer’s (song: “You Were Always on My Mind”); and the third, a failed rockband artist -turned-white collar worker and a trumpet-playing secretary who are determined to get an office music room in honor of the second girl’s mother, who worked in their office. Incidentally, the dragon lady who would stand in their way (because she hates the former rocker for making her suffer years of her son’s awful infatuation with screamo) is the mother of the MS graduate, who has returned from abroad and ends up asking the choir student to marry him (song: “New Year’s Gift”).

I did not realize until the end, but each song featured in the movie was written by the king. In the wake of his passing, this movie is a beautiful preservation of culture and respect, even as it is a cute nod to modern culture and their infatuation with iPhones and romance.

img_0478Speaking of which, I’m learning a thing or two about selfies from my friends here.

FUTURE “WILLS”  The concept of weaving storylines is a favorite of mine, and I think that’s why my novel is taking so long. Perhaps it is fitting that its working title should be so vague and all-encompassing (sort of like the play “Our Town”).

I am determined, however, not to give up.

There’s something here, and the best way to bare down the bones of this mess is to just finish making it. Stay tuned, dear friends.  (And if you have any NaNo successes of your own, please share ❤ )

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biovignette

evangeline

Bangs frame her freckles–frame pale eyes. A teenage Pinterest queen. Her clouds hold rain worth dancing in, and the future is distant. Everyday, the timeless season before life begins, on which she will look back–when she is thirty–and wonder where “that girl” went. “That girl” who, were she to die today, would be “too young,” untouched by anything, anyone, and full of bright things that do not make it past college. Not usually. But today, looking at her, you wonder if she may be the exception. Continue reading

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