There is an old story about a king and his three sons. The king needed to pick an heir and was troubled about making the decision, so instead he gave them a challenge. He was leaving for 2 years, he gave each son a bag of seeds and asked them to protect them until his return. One son locked the bag away in a vault, another son sold the seeds for gold so he could re-purchase new, good seeds when his father returned and the third son planted them and grew an amazing amount of flowers, plants, shared beauty and bounty.
The locked up in a vault seeds were all there, but they were old, moldy and not good anymore. The gold to buy new seeds worked, as the new seeds could grow and this may have been the safest, easiest choice since the gold was not stolen. But the growing of the seeds into plants offered the biggest most fertile return, the most riches for the most benefit to all. The king picked the third son as heir.
Humph! OK then. Keeping a story writer locked up just gets it old, moldy and not good anymore. No story buyers or sellers on my corner and no offers on my ‘idea for a story,’ thence (notice the archaic use:) plan number two was of no use. Growing it into beauty and bounty takes a lot of weeding as any gardener knows. The NaNoWriMo idea of quantity over quality is oddly difficult and confusing. I started focusing too much on the word count. The cat was concerned (mostly about sleeping locations, but I think a little bit about my writing). The dogs, well they repeated, “Let’s go outside and play. Let’s go outside and play.” They obviously are health conscious.
It seems like I thought of my word count and then the novel storyline until I became tired of it, is that why people don’t write novels?
And then I started to not want to put in my time writing that novel. And then I started to forget who was who in my story, because I had thought of so many options. And it was just like Jazzie and Max’s ring around the tank game – hard to know who was chasing whom.
Today I had to go through the story and write down the characters and key points about what they had done so far – well that got me some more word count. And I even resisted checking to see how much more.
Maybe if I hadn’t read that Sherlock Holmes/Mary Russell story, become totally infatuated with The Voice singing contest and various other NOVA documentaries it would be easier to remember that my story does not take place in Morocco, has no singing and is not concerned with artificial walking robot intelligence.
And there was Thanksgiving. They say turkey makes you sleepy, does it make you not write too?