I was trying to write a post and my computer had to have a brain fart and blow it to pieces. It began because the mouse pad froze and I had to try to do everything by key commands while trying to save what I wrote. That’s gone, however. In its place is a cryptic question in German that asks if you want to be a swan. How did that happen? More than one wrong key got pressed. As I write this, two people have already liked the computer brain-fart post. Let’s see how this will get fixed.
I intended to write a post on my attempt to finish my novel in November, the novel The Magical Miss Morgan. I was inspired to do that because my niece, Stephanie Bisinger, is currently involved in the NaNoWriMo project to write 50,000 words in November and complete a rough draft of a novel. The contest is really intended for creative young student types, and my niece is doing well. I, however, am probably not going to make the goal. I have increased my daily output, written faster, deeper, and more creatively than I have in a long time. I have my neurons firing so fast and so hard that my brain is heating up, hence the danger that my hair will suddenly burst into flame. Writing is a dangerous business. And yet, on my birthday, November 17th, 2014, I am only at 17,021 words. I am quickly running out of month and I am not even at the halfway point. That’s what happens when you get old. Your writing bones get all creaky and slow. I have sped up the novel, though. I made a major breakthrough. Having decided to use the “Do you want to be a swan?” thing from the computer brain-fart, I now have a major plot point that I didn’t have before. And I promoted a minor character to a place in the major action of the middle of the book. That was an excellent idea, really, because the character is a favorite of mine, made from a real cousin when he was younger mixed with a real former student. In the book, he is convinced that the major fantasy element of the story is not real, but when he is confronted with evidence right before his eyes, he wets his pants and runs away. Perfect… at least for potty humor.