This morning is the second week I got up to walk up and down the flights of stairs at Harvard Stadium with the November Project folks.
This is normally a summer activity; however, I recently altered my work schedule so I would have time to get back into things before July. In fact, my goal is to reach a full tour (all 37 sections) by the time in July I'm normally getting started again. But I'm about 30 sections away from that goal right now. Last week I was content to do five sections and stop just as I got jelly legged. As a result, I was sore the next couple of days, but I wasn't a hurting pup like I usually am when I start up. I am trying to be realistic in terms of my approach at the stadium in that when I get jelly legged, no more than one section beyond where I am and stop.
This morning I made it 7 sections in.
Not bad, not good but not bad.
So why is this here instead of over on my working out with Tek blog? What does it have to do with writing.
People always ask about why do I join up with Nanowrimo each year if I'm not going to publish what I write? For the same reason I haul my rather large posterior up and down the stairs at Harvard: because sometimes you need to make yourself get back in the habit of doing something that might be painful at times but good for you in the end.
I'm 16k into Camp Nano - over halfway to my goal and about 5 days ahead of myself and a funny thing happened, a story began to emerge. It's not the one I loosely planned. It's not the style I've been focusing on at any level. It is; however, a story that wants to be told and may be the base for a decent YA fantasy novel. It started its life as something else but quickly wanted to be more.
I know it's a YA novel because it's not particularly clean enough for middle grade fiction - which is my comfort zone.
Is it because I hauled my but up a bunch of flights of stairs while rocking out to Balkan Beat Box (who are sampled in a current Hip Hop song... so weird to hear a favorite of mine, "Hermetico," in the middle of the song "Talk Dirty" - and I recommend people look up the original by BBB)? Perhaps.
Perhaps that's what's clearing my head for the story to jump up and down yelling, "I'm over here! Time for you to write me down! You're cleaning up your body, so it's time for me to muck up your mind until I'm out of your head!"
It happens. Maybe by the beginning of July, I'll not only be able to do a full tour of Harvard Stadium but maybe Ailish and Aidan will have fulfilled their destiny in the deserted town on Achill Island in Sliabh Mór, County Mayo in Ireland. You never know.