Every year, for me, the countdown to Christmas tends to block out the blinding fact that a new year is also just days away. Strange, isn’t it, when really that’s kind of the bigger deal? I mean, you get a new day planner, make resolutions, reflect on your personal as well as the political past, and you make vows to yourself, both silent and aloud. Maybe it’s because I turn thirty in 2010,or maybe it’s because of the mounting tension in the city due to the Winter Olympics and everyone’s subjective and fiercely defended position on them, or maybe it’s because D and I have decided to put our savings into a sailboat and move onto it in 2010. Or because I have a novel to finish. Or simply the fact that it’s the sloughing off of a another decade, and now I’m old enough to remember my life in a series of decades. Actually, now that I write it all out, 2010 might be kinda big. Can you feel it?

Well, since the next few weeks will be all but a blur for you and for me, I’m signing off from the blog until the new year. I’ll still be on Twitter, natch. But I’d like to wish you the warmest, most joyful Christmas from the bottom of my bloggy heart. You deserve it.

PS: Like how I sneaked in my surprise? Ahoy!

Now is when it mounts. Can you feel it? People scurrying about, clutching crumpled lists and muttering to themselves and trying to beat red lights and circling a block five times for a parking space and phoning eight different restaurants in search of that elusive reservation and running out to meet the UPS truck before a surprise is ruined and baking after midnight and–

This year, I’m taking it as easy as possible. I’m making most of my gifts, so I’ve been puttering away in the evenings accompanied by Christmas music and cheese and crackers and a bright desk lamp, and it feels a million times better than being out at the shops. If you’re starting to feel the pressure mount, here’s your free pass to slow down a bit. Enjoy the holiday season. Remember what you like most about it, and make it happen. Have a rum & eggnog on a weeknight. Pare down that Christmas card list. Stick to the Secret Santa limit. Smugly warm your armpits on someone’s laptop. Whatever gets you by.

Word count: 550

Update

This morning I woke up, looked out the window as usual, and saw this Serenity Now-esque view. And it was fitting. In week three of writing the novel, I am onto draft number eight. Number seven was scrapped completely, and so eight is a fresh start. My main character was beginning to feel and sound older than her surroundings, and the supernatural aspects just weren’t gelling, so I decided to start fresh. I think this is a good thing.

Also, I am discovering that it’s rather insane to start a novel during the Christmas season.

Word count: 10, 571

Update:

Since the week prior was spent deep in writing, this past week I had to catch up on life things, and so had to sacrifice a few writing days. The word count has dropped since last week due to a major re-write of some chapters. It’s interesting to watch plot take shape in my mind, fragment by fragment. I’ve axed some characters I was just in the process of getting to know, and a new one has emerged, taking the story somewhere completely different. In order to keep the inspiration fluid I carry a notebook in my bag and, on every break at work, on bus rides, and in any other space of time where I can jot a few sentences down, I do. This is my plotting and hatching time, when I can sort out my thoughts and let plot lines and characters appear. I’m finding this is crucial to the writing process, because when I do have a day that I can dedicate in front of the computer, the words just flow, and I can refer to my notebook and pick up right where I left off. Or, delete huge chunks and set to re-writing them.

On a more personal level, I’m beginning to see the sacrifices that first-time novelists, and I’m sure even successful veterans, have to make in order to keep the flow of writing. I know I have not been a fantastic partner these past few weeks. I am perpetually distracted, engrossed in myself, and practically mute on some days. I can detect new lines forming on my brow as I take on a sort of permanent brooding look. I don’t want to go out, return phone calls, or watch favourite TV shows. I cherish my alone time to the point of obsession, grasping at the hours when I’m the only one in the apartment like they’re lifelines. I haven’t heard a peep of complaint from D, and he’s nothing but positive about this endeavor – probably because I’m always very supportive when he’s deep in writing, producing, and acting in plays – but I know how it feels beneath all the supportive and proud feelings. Some inevitable, if unvoiced, feelings of neglect lurk darkly underneath, and I would like to assuage those as much as possible. Which is to say, I still have lots of work ahead of me.

The holidays are upon us. This year I find myself working in retail over Christmas, something I haven’t done in years and I swore I never would again, yet here we are.

I really don’t mind retail at Christmas. The days go by quickly, there are lots of staff on hand, and the paychecks are better than at any other time of year. I’ve even found that, after being around shoppers all day long, I’m averse to shopping myself and I’m more inclined to make my own gifts, which is something that definitely brings good holiday vibes.

But I do get stressed as the days lead up to Christmas, and it doesn’t have much to do with work or shopping. Rachel at Heart of Light is sharing her stress-free holiday tips over the next few days, and I’ve taken on her challenge to write two lists: one of things I like about Christmas, and one of things I dislike about it. Let’s get the bad stuff out of the way first.

While I do miss some people, I don’t get depressed on Christmas. But some of my family members do. There is certainly something in the air on Christmas day that makes me tiptoe around and cringe inwardly whenever I can sense someone’s emotions are going to be set off. It gets tense. And, while I’m being open, I could do without some of the attendees. Yes, they are family, and we had some good times in the past – the far away, seemingly centuries ago past – but we really don’t mesh anymore. And when you’ve got a small family like I do, the silences and idiocies can magnify and make a large room start to feel small, and suddenly I’m wishing there was an escape hatch in the middle of the living room floor. I always envy Dave on Christmas day, whose entire extended family lives in Ireland and he gets to spend a quiet, relaxing day with just his mom, dad, and sister. Also, money stresses me out at Christmas time. I never seem to have enough, and this year I really have some tight purse strings.

On the other hand, I love Christmas morning. It’s when my immediate family gets together and we exchange gifts and have a big breakfast and then we all get ready together and there’s that overwhelming feeling of warmth and kinship and security and love that I remember and look forward to each year. It’s a precious few hours, and it’s all that the hype and the stress distill down to. I also love making Christmas gifts, and decorating my little 5 foot tall tree, and plugging in the twinkle lights every evening in December. I also love wrapping gifts, and seeing the boxes and shapes sitting perfectly underneath the tree. And sending and receiving Christmas cards. And watching the same Christmas movies my sister and I have watched since we were very small.

This year I am going to focus on the things I love about Christmas, and do my best to look past the rest. What are you going to do to stay stress-free this holiday season?

1. sharing family gossip and a really good laugh with gramma

2. tea at someone else’s house (why does it always seem better?)

3. watching fog rolling in off the water

4. the perfect pair of plaid wellies

5. being up before the seagulls

{cut paper collage}

Can a haircut make you overflow with senseless joy? Because I think mine just did.

It’s been exactly one week since I started my novel, and after receiving the above in a fortune cookie last night (deep, I know), I thought I’d make novel updates a weekly feature on here. While other weekly features have fallen by the wayside – mostly because I’ve been spending a lot less time on the interwebs – this one will be motivating and, I hope, a record that I can look back on when the novel is finished and shake my head and go, So that’s why I have so much grey hair. If you’re also writing a lengthy piece, I’d love for you to play along, either in the comments or on your own blog. Strength in numbers, right?

Novel stats

new words this week: n/a

total word count: 15, 619

Update

It’s exhilarating, frightening, exhausting, and energizing. I think I’m running on what @amypalko and I’ve dubbed, “idea adrenaline.” Time spent away from writing feels like I’m walking around with no peripheral vision: imbalanced, incomplete, and a little disoriented. Time spent writing conjures up images of a roomful of monkeys chained to typewriters clackity-clacking out The Great American Novel. I am in no way saying my own novel will be great, but more trying to illustrate the slavish mentality I’m feeling.

If you follow me on Twitter, then you’ll already know that my conversations of late basically revolve around one topic: writing a novel. Of course, the cat’s antics creep in there too, but when you spend 18 hours a day in front of a laptop, those antics are pretty much the most exciting things to happen to a person.

So I’m writing a YA novel, and I’m having a blast. But I’m also aging myself by five years every week, I fear. The words just come. They flow like water from a faucet, and I cannot. turn. them. off. I eyes pop open between 4 and 6am every day. I force myself to turn off the computer at midnight. Repeat. Sometimes I take a break to read something fun, but that’s mostly something to do while I’m eating whatever ridiculous excuse for a meal I can come up with. (Note: leftovers can still be edible three days later! Just make sure you have a couple Tums for dessert.) Other times I drag myself to work. I only work 3 -4 days a week, and it’s almost a welcome respite from cramped wrists and conversations I have with myself. But like I said, there is no off switch, and so I feel all bottled up and explosive when I haven’t written for even one day.

Anyway, I guess all this is to ask, have you ever written a novel before? Did it sap you and energize you at the same time, like it does for me? I feel like a heroin addict, loving and hating the drug at the same time. I would like to feel hunan again now please, but this story is turning into a long one, so I don’t think that will be for awhile.

{HMK Soul Doubt: iF Vineyard Sound}

Since the original clue #2 has been lost, as well as the post that went with it, here’s clue #2: redux.

{nautical numerals}