So of course, as you may know, it's November, which means I've been trying my hand, and failing hopelessly, at National Novel Writing Month. For the uninitiated (what are you doing here?) this is where writers keen to destroy themselves plan to write around 1700 words per day to finish a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.
For one, this could not have come at a worse time for me. It's springtime, the weather is gorgeous and I want to be outside. It's also the start of gig season in Sydney and my boyfriend has had at least two shows per week with his bands. Work is extremely stressful as we head into the final stretch of our big release, which is due out on November 30. (They did give me a pay rise, though, which is helpful but would have been nice if it came the day BEFORE I carefully budgeted and bought myself a new laptop rather than AFTER.)
For two, I can't get a handle on either of my Big and Promising Stories. I started NaNo innocently enough, figuring I could take the rough, unfinished outline and perfectly executed first chapter of my 'Regular Lady Falls In Love With A Movie Star' story, which I was inspired to write a few months ago when I read a terrible ebook offering on the same subject and figured "Pssh, I could write something a million times better than this."
The first weekend of November, 4k words in and struggling to work out a decent plot and emotional ending, I changed my mind. I'd rather focus on something that's been a brain-worm for the better part of a year now - a modern Sydney adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma (which I began long before I found the amazing and wonderful Lizzie Bennett Diaries on YouTube).
Now I'm stuck again. I'm 4K words into this and all I can think of is: I. Don't. Like. My. Emma.
Austen's Emma is beautifully naive and even though she does mess things up a bit for her poor Harriet I still think she's a wonderful character. That's why she (and even her 90's counterpart, Clueless' Cher) has served the test of time, I guess. My Emma? Well, from what I've found out so far, she's just a bit of an idiot - I wish she'd just pay her own rent already and learn to respect her friends rather than trying to not-so-subtly engineer their love lives. I'm also so jealous of Emma's lifestyle I want to strangle her. I've ended up respecting my Harriet, who's a hard-working nursing student struggling to pay her rent in a inner-city suburb, a lot more than my main character, and I can't figure out why she shouldn't be with her Mr Martin even if he is a bit of a wishy-washy stoner and lives in Kensington.
I don't know what to do.
I guess today I need to sit and brainstorm and figure out if I'm going to salvage anything from my NaNo attempts. Wish me luck.
