NaNoWriMo Progress Report: Story Synopsis

Today is Day 6 of National Novel Writing Month and as I type this I stand at 10,319 words.   In a nutshell, I am writing a science fiction novel, with the science part being somewhat spurious.   This first draft is chock-full of every cliche’ imaginable from t.v. shows and action/adventure movies.  I’ve got the headstrong woman who clashes with the insufferable, yet oh-so-cute, leading man, who looks amazingly like the character Ardeth Bey from the Mummy movies.  

I guess you would call the novel an allegory.  The working title is Timeron and it is the story of  a once-upon-a-time technologically sophisticated society in an alternate earth time-line.  Its infrastructure is powered by the earth’s electro-magnetic energy which can only be channelled by individuals sensitive to this earth energy.  So what happens when this society has a shortage of such gifted individuals who can access this energy and there are no longer technicians who can repair the technology fueled by this energy?  That society falls apart and leaves groups of haves and have-nots who suddenly engage each other in terrible ways.  It leaves a society where science was once revered and now is feared by some as “magick.”  (I really hope no one has ever written a story like this before — if so, someone please let me know!)

Does that sound a little bit like something right out of the front-page news?  Fuel shortages, infrastructure collapse, social and political instability?   I did not intend for that to happen.  I really have no plot as I write the novel,  but the characters have taken off in that direction and I’m just along for the ride. 

I don’t know if I am going to finish this story.  It is labor intensive.  I write about 4 hours to achieve about 2000 words a day.  I don’t want to get behind because I know I will stay behind if I do.

I want to say that if it had not been for the discipline of a daily writing habit that I developed over the past three years working with the abundance of writing prompts and inspiration at Heather Blakey’s Soul Food Cafe (http://www.dailywriting.net/), I would not have even considered engaging in this project. 

Check back here for regularly progress reports. 

Thanks for all the support.

Getting Ready for NaNoWriMo

Well, now I’ve done it.  I signed up as an official participant in the 2009 NaNoWriMo.  NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month.  Participants start at 12:01 am on November 1 and have until 11:59 on November 30 to write a 50,000 word novel.  If you win, you get nothing more than bragging rights and the satisfaction that you have now written that novel you have always said you would.    No one is going to read your novel, and considering you wrote 50,000 words in 30 days, that novel is going be in sore need of  multiple re-writes before you can ever even consider submitting it for publication.

Chris Baty, author of No Plot, No Problem, is the instigator of NaNoWriMo.  In his book, he advises in preparation for the month that one acquire a notebook, a “magical pen”, a word processing device, a totem, and special clothes, such as a hat,  to wear while writing.   This is all to make the process of writing the novel special.

I do have a word processing device so that’s covered.   I am making notes in a ordinary composition book that I have decorated for the occasion with the picture of a toilet — a toilet because this notebook is a big dump of my ideas.  There is nothing clean and neat about the inside of this notebook.  When I have a thought about the story, I jot it down.  It’s perfect

I don’t think I’ll  wear special clothes either — that would be too distracting.  But don’t worry, I won’t write naked either, if that thought came to your mind.  No, sweats and a t-shirt, that’s the most comfortable ensemble for me.

I might have a totem, though.  I’ve always been partial to pelicans.  I have this alebrije, a little Oaxacan wood carving of a pelican, brightly painted and just perfect to set above my computer.  Yep, he’s going to sit there and cheer me on when I get stuck.

I think the one special thing that I will go out and buy today is a “magical pen”.  Borders and Barnes and Noble always have some cool pens next to the check-stand so I might splurge on a fancy pen just to mark the occasion and kick off the month.

I think one more thing is needed to start the month.  First a time of reflection.  Recently, I discovered the library in a neighboring city.  What an amazing place… better than the dumpy library in my town.  So I acquired a card and am going there this morning to sit in the stacks, read up on some material I need to start the novel, and just be in a quiet, literary space to contemplate the undertaking.

Second, a celebration is always needed whenever a special undertaking initiates…. I’m getting together with some friends tonight for Halloween.  It seems appropriate since Halloween is the celebration of the Celtic New Year.   It seems to me the perfect send-off for a month of monastic-like seriousness.

So, if you don’t hear from me for a while, you’ll know what I’m doing.   I hope I reach 50,000 words, but if I write only 500, that will be fine too

L.Gloyd (c) 2009

PS:  I’ll be posting my word count here on my blog (in the left column) so check back from time to time to see where I’m at.  Thanks.

Red Sky in Morning….

I was driving to work yesterday and pulled over to take this amazing sunrise image.   I did not manipulate the color on this photo in anyway.  It is as it was.    I couldn’t help the rhyme running through my head:  “Red sky at night, sailors’ delight; red sky in morning, sailors’ take warning.”   It did, however, turn out to be a very beautiful and bright autumn day.

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

El Dia de Los Muertos

The Day of the Dead celebration, El Dia de los Muertos, is a practice that goes back thousands of years in the cultures of the indigenous peoples of Mexico and Central America. When the Europeans came to this area, the celebration was blended with the observance of All Saints Day and All Souls Day on November 1 and 2. Elements of pre-Christian and Christian symbols were merged and the celebration became one where the observant remember their deceased loved ones. Today this celebration is observed in many Latin American countries as well as Latin American communities in North America.

I came across this Day of the Dead altar in my community. Passerbys were invited to write messages on pieces of cloth to honor and remember their loved ones and pin them to the altar. On the altar are marigolds which were sacred flowers to the ancient Aztecs, comical skeletons as a reminder that death is not to be feared, candles to represent life and hope, incense to purify the space, food as an offering to the deceased, and crosses to show that Jesus has triumphed over death.

 

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Nazars in Hamsas

“Nazars in Hamsas: But the Real Protection is Underneath”

Mixed Media Painting

A little something from my art journal, inspired by a photograph by Traveller.    Thanks, Carol.

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

In the Sound Room

As I’ve mentioned before, a friend of mine has been installing a new sound system in our church, and I have been assisting him. Well, truth-be-told, my help mostly consists of keeping him company as he works, so that’s pretty much what I did after supper last night when we went up to the church to hook up and test a new microphone he had just acquired. It was around 9 p.m. when we arrived. As I have stated in previous accounts, I never, ever go up into the church sanctuary alone at night, and even with a companion, I was still a bit jittery. Every creak of the old building had me swinging my head around and looking for phantoms.

There is a security camera mounted high in the sanctuary and the various technical paraphernalia associated with the camera are in the same room as the sound equipment. My friend was curious to see how well the camera worked at night. (Wouldn’t be much of a security camera if it didn’t work, right?), so he flipped off all the lights in the sanctuary, and we crowded around the closed-circuit monitor. We were quite pleased to see that the camera’s infra-red capabilities actually showed clearer images in the darkness than during the day. Satisfied with the camera, my friend started busying himself with the new mic. I stayed in the chair in front of the monitor and made small talk. A few minutes later I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I pulled my full attention back to the monitor and watched.

Out of nowhere a white blob emerged in the middle of screen, flared for a moment, and then disappeared.

“What was that?”

My friend stepped back over and looked over my shoulder at the monitor. “What?”

No sooner did he say that when the white blob flared again.

“That! Did you see that?!” A couple of more orbs flitted across the monitor. “Orbs! Lots of them!”

“Oh, Lori! Do not start using the ‘G-word.’ The place is not haunted.” He made a short explanation of the effects of ambient light and dust particles on an infra-red camera. It sure didn’t look like dust particles to me.

I told my friend that if the SyFy Channel ever needed another de-bunker for the Ghost Hunters show, he would be a perfect candidate. Of course, this did not stop my friend from hurrying over to the circuit breaker box and turning on all the lights in the sanctuary.

The sanctuary now being fully illuminated, there were no more “dust particles” on the monitor. My friend returned to his puttering with the new mic, and I dug up some games on an old PC in the sound room to amuse myself. A few minutes later I heard some noises coming through an open window in the sound room. I asked my friend who was closest to the window, “Do you see anyone in the courtyard?” He looked out the window and down to the courtyard (we were on the second floor). “There’s someone going into the church office,” he said.

“Is it the Pastor?” I asked.

“I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t make out any features.”

Great, I thought. Now we have shadow-people.

My friend left me in the sound room while he went out into the sanctuary to hook up the mic. As he worked, I started playing computer solitaire to pass the time.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang. I jumped up from the chair and screamed. My friend rushed back in. “What!”

I pointed to the corner of the room. “There was a loud noise from over there!”

“It was just the lid of my tool box…..” He went over to a heavy plastic hinged box, lifted the lid, and pressed it down. “Was that it?” It was the same sound. “I probably didn’t have the lid all the way up and it just fell on its own…” He lifted the lid halfway up and let it go. The hinges held the lid in place. It didn’t move. Finally, he had to push the lid down to make it shut. Gravity, my eye.

He quickly finished connecting the mic and we ran a few sound checks. With everything working properly and the hour getting late, we wrapped things up, locked up the church, and left. While loading things into the truck, my friend said, “Let’s go see if there’s anyone in the office.” We went around the back of the building. No surprise: the office was dark and deserted.

I am going to ask the pastor when I see him next if he was in the office last night. And I am so afraid of what his answer might be.

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Playing Tourist

When we were kids, we rarely went up to Hollywood.  It was a seedy, tacky place of lowlife nightclubs, shady ladies, and other bizarre people.  But gentrification has set in and it’s become a trendy place to be, tourists not withstanding.  My sister and I took the subway up there yesterday and played tourists.    Here is my sister in a very touristy pose  in front of the Babylon Court at the Hollywood & Highland shopping center (home of the Kodak Theatre).

The court is a tribute to D.W.  Griffth’s vision of Babylon in his 1916 film Intolerance.

We strolled along the Hollywood Walk of Fame:

and ended up in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre,

where we encountered some interesting folks:

Now let me just say something about this.  These are actors who on their own (not paid for or endorsed by the theatres or local businesses) just show up each day in front of the Kodak and Grauman’s and pose with tourists for tips.  This is fair — except they don’t tell you they want tips until after your snap the picture.    My sister and I found this out when we got chewed out by an obnoxious little man dressed up as Chaplin.  It was very bizarre since neither my sister or I took a picture of him and didn’t intend to take a picture of him.   He just started mouthing off at us for not taking his picture and tipping him.    Anyway….. only in Hollywood, I guess.

Here’s one more image I took especially for my colleague Heather who lives in Australia:

I thought you would like that, Heather. 

Signing off,

Your Hollywood reporter……

LJG. (c) 2009

Radiant Lenore

This is my visual rendition of a passage from Poe’s The Raven, where the narrator laments over, and is haunted by, his lost love, Lenore.

…Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’ — Edgar Allan Poe

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Some photographic elements are from Morguefile.com; others taken by me.

Let Us Not Forget

In memory of the victims

and their families

September 11, 2001

World Trade Center, late 80’s

Lori Gloyd (c) 2006-2009

Fire Storm

There is a wild fire in the Angeles National Forest.  Usually, when there are such fires, the smoke makes a yellow ashy haze.  I’ve never seen smoke form clouds like this.   One report I heard says that the smoke plumes are about 25,000 feet high.    It looks more like a volcanic explosion.  This is a bad one, folks.  Already people have died and homes have been destroyed.  The fire is heading towards a mountain top that has all the local radio and television broadcast transmission towers.  They most likely will burn and some of our communications will be disrupted.

It is sooooo hot but it is supposed to cool down this week.  I hope so.

Tree of Hope

“Tree of Hope”
Digital Construction

I had originally started “sketching” this in Photoshop as a preliminary for a painting I was developing, but I liked how it was forming so I finished it as a digital construction.

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Painting: Rainclouds and Palms at Sunset

“Rainclouds and Palms at Sunset”

Acrylic Paint on Canvas Panel

“9 x 12″

L. Gloyd (c0 2009

E=MC Squared

Something new from my Art Journal:

This image emerged in my art journal after a particularly trying day.   I have no idea why I brought in Einstein’s equation to this image.  Maybe it represents that speaking the truth from the strength of our hearts is the only way we can navigate through perilous waters.

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Heart Dance

“Heart Dance”

Watercolor Sketch

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

At the Board Meeting

A tall, athletic woman in a green running suit and trainers entered the boardroom.

“Artie, you’re late!’ Another woman, clad in a pin-striped suit, consulted a large binder in front of  her.

“’Thena, you can take your calendar book at put it where the sun don’t shine”.  Artie plunked herself in a chair across the table from Thena and propped her feet on the edge.

Thena glared at her and said, “Is that how you dress for a meeting with the CEO?”

“Sorry, my shoulder pads are at the cleaners.”

“Ladies!  That’s enough.  She’ll be here any minute. Does anyone know why she called us together?” asked the woman seated next to Thena.  She had a scowl on her face and nervously toyed with the gold band on her left hand.  “I’ve got things to do.”

Artie responded, “What, Hera? Trailing your hubby again?  Who’s he running around with today?”

“Shut up!  At least I have a man.  Shot anyone lately, Artie?”

Thena glared at them both.  “Y’know, this is why the Company is suffering.  Neither of you can focus on the greater good.   Especially you, Artie.  You’re always running off into some forest or something.  Why can’t you just do your job?”

“Which is what, if I may ask?  Hob-nobbing with the ‘old-boys’ club? At least I try—“  She stopped when Thena  reached across the table and touched the arm of the plain, silent woman seated next to Artie.

“Hes, honey, maybe now is not a good time to be lighting incense?”   Hes smiled at Thena and extinguished the tiny brazier on the table in front of her.

“That’s a good girl, sweetie.  You know how that smoke gives me a headache.”

“Look at you,” continued Artie, “always bossing people around, telling people what to do, where to do, how to dress, what to say. Look at Seph and Demi over there.  You won’t even let them get a word in edgewise.”  Artie pointed to the woman and girl seated at the far end of the table.  Demi sat with her arm around her daughter.  They were deep in conversation and ignoring the rest.

“Oh, c’mon, Artie” exclaimed Hera, “we all know what the both of you did to poor Aphie.”  Hera motioned her head to the woman seated next to Demi and Seph.  Aphie was motionless, her vacant eyes staring into nothingness.  “She hasn’t said a word in months because of what you did—“

“That was Artie’s doing, not mine,” said Thena, “in fact—“

At the moment the door swung open and hit the wall of the boardroom.  The CEO entered, struggling with a pile of books she held in her arms.  “Can someone give me a hand with this?”

Thena jumped up and took some the books from the CEO.

“Suck up..” hissed Artie under her breath.

Thena placed the books at the head of the table.  On top was a volume of Russian fairy tales.

The CEO clutched another one to her entitled Female Archetypes: The Functions and Purposes. Thena reseated herself.

The CEO stood at the head of the table and looked at each of them in turn.  Finally, she said:

“Ladies, I called you together today, because, quite frankly, we have a problem.”

Thena jumped in, “Yes, I was just saying to the—“

The CEO motioned at her.  “I’m doing the talking her this morning, if you please.”  Thena fell silent with a look of surprise.

“Let me make this short and to the point:  you all are driving me nuts.”

The women looked at one another and then back at the CEO.

“This constant bickering has got to stop.”  She began to pace around the table. “I have enough things to deal with in the real world without listening to you guys arguing amongst yourself.  You have got to learn to get along with each other.”

Thena spoke up, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you see Artie—“

“Thena, I fully appreciate everything you do.  You keep things moving along.  I depend on your orderliness and conformity.  I really do.  You are the engine that drives things.  But, you need to stop being so critical of the rest. They each have a function and you need to respect that.”

Artie snickered.

“And you, Artie,” the CEO circled behind her, “You, Artie, need to be a little more cooperative. I appreciate your free thinking independence.  You keep Thena from getting too bogged down in rules and regulations, but you have got to stop sabotaging her at every turn.  The Company would be a lot further along if you tried that.”

The CEO looked across the table at Hera.  “And, you have got to lighten up.  Your attitude, most of the time, well, how can I say this?  Your attitude stinks and you really aren’t pleasant to be around.”   Hera opened her mouth but nothing came out. “Hera, I need you to help me deal with some of the difficulties I have ‘out there’.  You lend an air of dignity…of confidence…this I really need at times.”  Hera straightened up in her seat and her scowl softened a bit.

The CEO put a hand on Hes’s shoulder.  “And Hes…” she glared at the others.  “….if Hes wants to light incense, then let her.  She is my connection to the Source.  I need her as much as I need any of you.  Hear me on this: you will let her alone.  Got it?”

Then she approached Demi and Seph.  “You two…”  Demi pulled Seph even closer.  “…you two have got to be a bit more assertive.   Demi, I know you have too little time to spend with your daughter while she is here on earth, but you need to spend some time nurturing me as well.  I need some “mothering” once in a while myself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” muttered Demi.

The CEO then turned to everyone.  “And all of you need to let Seph come out and play more often.” Seph blushed and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.  The CEO smiled at Seph and leaned down to her.   “Honey, it’s okay to have a little fun while you are here.  It keeps us all from becoming too serious.”   Seph looked up and beamed at the CEO.

The CEO straightened up, her face suddenly grim, and walked to the last woman at the table: Aphie. “And can someone please explain this to me?  What happened here?”

Thena and Artie shifted in their seats but said nothing.  After a moment, Seph’s small voice spoke up.  “They did it.  They zapped her with a spell.”

Thena and Artie glared at the girl.  Demi said, “Shush.  You don’t want them to zap you too.”

The CEO lifted an eyebrow and looked at the two women at the head of the table. “Well?”

Thena cleared her voice and started, “You see- it was Artie who—“

“Hey, watch it sweetie—“

Hera piped in “They are both responsible, ma’am.”

“Shut up!”

The CEO raised a hand. “Please continue, Hera.”

“Well, see, as you know, Aphie tends to get a little passionate about her ideas.  You know, she’s the ‘creative’ one?   Anyway, Aphie suggested if Artie and Thena could just connect with their masculine counterparts, then maybe the ideas could flow a little more freely.  She said… well, she said they needed to be a bit more ‘randy.’

“Hera!” both Artie and Thena shouted in unison.

“Well, it’s true!”

“And that’s when they zapped Aphie,” giggled Seph.

“Is this true?” asked the CEO.

“It’s not at all like that—“ said Artie.

“Is this true!?”

“Well, she was getting so loud about it all…”

“Release her.  Now.”

“But—“

“NOW.”

Thena and Artie looked at each other and then, in unison, banged their right hands on the top of the table.

Life returned to Aphie’s eyes.  She blinked and cleared her throat.  “Where am I?”  Demi gave her a motherly pat on the shoulder.  “You’re back with us, dear.  You’ll be just fine.”

The CEO returned to the head of the table.  She said in a low voice to Artie and Thena, “I do not expect anything like this to happen again.  Am I clear?”

Then, the fluorescent ceiling lights flickered and Thena rose to her feet.  “Who do you think you are talking to?” she thundered at the CEO.  “I work my fingers to the bone for you and this is the thanks I get?!”

The CEO stared her down.  “I know who I am talking to and let me remind you: you all work for me.  I do not work for you.  You will do as I say or you can take a walk.”

A stunned silence fell over the table.  “Now that that’s settled,” she continued, “I am thinking about bringing some new life into this group.”  She patted the book of Russian fairy tales.  “I’m thinking about hiring a consultant.  Have you all heard of The Baba Yaga?”

Seph whispered to Demi, “Who’s that, Mama?”

“The Crone.” Demi chuckled. “She’d sure knocked some sense into this lot.”

“Um, ma’am..”

“Yes, Thena.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

“Let’s hope so.”  The CEO picked up her books and headed out the boardroom door.  “Let’s just hope so.”

No one said anything at first, except Aphie who was humming contently to herself.  She pulled a compact out of her purse and began applying new lipstick.

Artie glared at Thena.   “Now see what you’ve done?”

L. Gloyd © 2008