Month of writing dangerously, Chapter 5

Heading into Week 4 of NaNoWriMo, and I’ve now clocked 61K words. Since the goal of the exercise is to complete 50K words by 30 November, I don’t feel quite such a sense of urgency to rack up the word count each day, although I am still averaging about 2000 per.

Because my oeuvre is a detective story, and I didn’t have the benefit of six months’ solid research into my location (still undetermined city in Northern England), police work (specifically as practiced in the UK), forensics (basic as well as specific; and don’t even refer me to any of the scripted TV series as being legitimate resources) and various other aspects of the genre, I’ve developed a way to ignore those pesky little issues & crack on:

Whenever I run into something I don’t know, I insert place markers and write around them. So the manuscript is splattered with [city blah-blah] or [forensic blah-blah] or [investigative blah-blah]. A week ago, acting upon instructions of The Voices (you know—the ones who cooked this story up in the first place), I ensconced my two main characters in a tapas bar. And, since I’ve never actually eaten tapas (although I did once see Rick Steves eat them on TV), I just stuck in [tapas blah-blah] until such time as I can find such an establishment locally and have a legitimate tax-deductible writing-related expense.

I also had a [rioja blah-blah] because my only experience with Spanish wine involved offerings that reminded me strongly of the Bulgarian rotgut we used to have at history department parties at William & Mary. Perhaps someone can enlighten me on what I might like to lay in—also by way of tax-deductible writing-related expenses.

The Voices forced me to make my American researcher besotted with spreadsheets, which is a great trial to me, because I believe their use for every possible purpose in the business world is the clearest sign of the End Times the Almighty could have sent us. So I have a whole shedload of [spreadsheet blah-blahs], as well. A former boss of mine—who does not play a market researcher on TV, but actually is one—has kindly offered to help me out with (and I quote him) “the spreadsheety goodness”, when I’m ready.

That, of course, will be some time down the road, especially as he is also participating in NaNoWriMo, and is obviously cranking away on his own. (41K words as of yesterday—yay!)

However, considering that I’m ahead of the game, word-wise, if I feel like slacking off a bit and playing with designing a state-of-the-art kitchen with Italian appliances and cabinetry, or trying to hunt down what a coroner’s inquest report looks like, or the logistics of Desert Storm—well, then I do.

The spreadsheety goodness can definitely wait.

Thanksgiving memories

I’m hoping that your Thanksgiving holiday is filled comfort, generosity and a lot of pleasure.

To contribute to the last, I’m sharing a clip from one of the Thanksgiving episodes of The West Wing.

I also recommend the clip on President Bartlet and the Butterball Turkey hotline. But that's considerably longer.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Consuming passion

Since we’re heading into the holiday season, which means we’re also into the turbo-charged consumer and culinary frenzy season. So I think we should start it off with this: The Hater’s Guide to the Williams-Sonoma Catalog.

When I was a child I occasionally wondered what parents would say when their kids asked, “Mom/Dad—what is it that you do?” and the answer was something like “Make dishmops.”

And I also wondered what people in the Korean or Indian factories thought of Americans as they packed cases of Smurf dolls for shipment over here.

But we’ve clearly moved way, way beyond Smurfs and dishmops to polished Italian alderwood acorn-shaped twine holders and Hungarian grain-sack stockings and potato scrubbing gloves.

Ah, look—you just can’t make this stuff up.

If you can remember the 60s...

Yesterday’s post about the Seattle Police Department’s helpful hints to the public about what to expect from the new law allowing possession of small amounts of marijuana gave me a case of the munchies for…Arlo Guthrie:

Don’t know why, really….

Seattle slew

In the wake of Washington voters approving a ballot measure decriminalizing the possession of small amounts of marijuana, the Seattle cops are taking a pragmatic view of how to approach the shifting winds, so to speak, as least as they’re able to determine them.

This being the self-proclaimed vortex of anything technological, naturally they’ve posted their guidelines online.

It’s called “Mariwhatnow?”, a guide to what SPD thinks will be happening come 6 December, when the law takes effect.

I see that the same folks who with every show of distaste and reluctance control the sale of hard liquor (in state-run liquor stores) are going to be in charge of the legal sale of grass. That means that the hours will be so limited and arbitrary (depending on each outlet’s management) that the consuming public probably won’t have to worry much about being caught with any discernible amount of Super Skunk in its trunk.

But SPD has certainly shown more than a kilo's worth of sense of humor.