the pieces of my life

Oh, it gets even worse. In my novel, my character is reminded of “If You Had Wings.” I, of course, start singing the song. Adam looks at me blankly, and I ask, “You do know what that is, don’t you?” “Uh, a TV show?” he asks, in his “duh” voice. Doesn’t know what If You Had Wings Is. I used to love “If You Had Wings.” You didn’t need a ticket for it, so you could ride it as many times as you wanted (which was a lot, but only if Peter and Carol had the patience for it, for by the time I was old enough to go to Disney World without them, the ride was long closed). He also has no recollection of GE’s Carousel of Progress:

Well, looks like the robins are getting ready to celebrate Valentines day today. What year is it? Oh, right around the turn of the century. And things couldn’t be any better than they are today. Yes sir, buildings are towering now as high as twenty stories. And moving pictures flicker up on a big screen. We have almost 8,000 automobiles in this country and we can travel by train from New York to California in less than seven days! And I even hear tell of two brothers from North Carolina who are working on some kind of flying contraption. [He chuckles to himself.] It’ll never work. Closer to home, we’ve now got gas lamps, telephone and the latest design in cast iron stoves. And that reservoir keeps 5 gallons of water hot all day on just 3 buckets of coal. Oh boy, it sure beats chopping wood. And isn’t our new icebox a beauty? Look at that! Holds 50 pounds of ice.

Everyone now, “Now is the time, now is the time, now is the best time of our lives.”

Word count: 7,560. Still way, way behind. But, I’m making progess. I’m counting on tomorrow night to make up for a lot of lost time. My novel is definitely a novel about life on the kibbutz, but I haven’t quite figured out where it’s going. Maybe she has a romance? Maybe not. I have no idea. This is a lot tougher than I had thought it would be. The main character is me, but it’s completely not me at the same time. I think there’s mostly me in the omniscient first-person narrator. My main character (the third person one) is experiencing things much differently than I did. Basically what I’m doing is using my old diary as a frame for events, and then having my character react to them in her own way. And since I don’t yet know her very well, it’s hard to say what she’s going to end up doing.

Word count: 6,255, which means I’m almost 4,000 words behind. I’m counting on this weekend to do some serious catching up. It’s my own fault. Last night I was exhausted and couldn’t force myself to write. This morning, I churned some out after the gym, but there’s so much more to do, and we have our Aleph-Bets class tonight. I may just have to stay up late, to get at least 2,000 more words done. Tomorrow night I have no plans except to write, so that’s what I shall do.

Day 5 of Nanowrimo. If I’m to keep on target (for a Nov. 30 end date, not even the Nov. 28 end date I need to finish before I leave for Fernley), I need to write about 3,000 words today. Currently I’m at 5,357. I’ve changed the focus pretty dramatically, making the main part of the story third person, although there’s a first-person narrator. You can tell I’m rereading Kundera. I’ve decided to write about the trip to Israel after all, but it will be more fiction after all, as I’m making it happen in today’s environment, and my character is beginning to drift away from who I am. Writing in the cafe on Saturday morning was actually a huge help. Changing environments was good, and having the support of others made me sit at the laptop (my work one) longer than I normally would have. Mary, Eugene, Simon, and Betsy showed up, so with Adam, myself, and a friend of Eugene, we had a pretty good-sized group there. One woman came up to us and asked if we were a writing group. She’d never seen so many laptops going at once. We must have looked pretty silly, but it did the trick.

Saw Monsters, Inc. on Saturday night. I’m hooked. Can’t wait to see the extras on that DVD.

Work will be difficult to concentrate on today–I’ve got my character running through my mind. Must get a lot done so I can get home on the early side and pump out those (gasp) 3,000 words. As if.

I’m going backwards! I had inspiration this morning on my run, and realized that the structure I had thought I’d do on my novel was not sustainable, so I’ve switched tracks. So now I’m down to 1,639 words, but I’ve got this weekend to up my numbers. I’m much more excited about my new ideas, which will make it much easier to drag myself to the computer to write them.

Word count: 2,659. How much of it makes sense? Ah, who cares? I only need to hit 50,000. “No plot? No problem.”

Adam doesn’t know who Rhoda Morgenstern is. I’m horrified.

Nanowrimo word count: 1706

Went to see the opera Rusalka last night. A Czech opera based on a number of fairy tales, most recognizably “The Little Mermaid.” A new thing at the opera. The lights went down and we waited for the overture. But then the lights came up and the orchestra started to play “The Star Spangled Banner.” Everyone, of course, rose and sang. Then the lights went down and the overture began. Slightly surreal. Wonder if they’ll continue to do that. Anyway, I toyed with the idea of using the plot for my novel, but really, I’m writing about myself. Although, I could work it in there. The opera was beautiful, and I enjoyed it (well, except for maybe that part in the second act where I fell asleep, but really, it was more about my being tired than about the opera). At first, I was feeling incredibly tense and aggravated about work, but slowly I was able to sink in and watch. The set design was spectacular, and they created a lake on stage that truly looked like it was filled with water, when it had to have been no more than plastic and lighting. Dinner at Racha first and then Mentos during the show. Opera is the only time I ever eat Mentos–it would never occur to me otherwise, but it’s become somewhat of a ritual since Andy started buying them years ago. We figured out last night that this is the fifth year Andy and I have subscribed to the opera. Doesn’t seem that long. Looking over a list of past operas, we both agree that we have little memory of the ones we enjoyed, but the ones we despised really stand out. Florencia of the Amazon was painful, inspired by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, whose writing I adore. Wagner I despire. Long, boring. But the ones I enjoyed–the lighter Mozart pieces, Lakme, Faust–I have a hard time remembering the story lines. I can only remember bits and pieces of the scenery.