A milestone, of sorts

Some months ago, when I sheepishly embarked on the experiment to see if I have a novel in me, I did some research on word counts. I don't remember where I read it, but a couple of sources seemed to suggest that 50,000 words was the minimum for bridging the gap between novel and novella. And it's the count NaNoWriMo uses for their writers. The longest short story I'd ever written was about 1/12th of that, so I really wasn't sure I had it in me. But I figured it was a good benchmark, a good test to see if -- regardless of quality -- I was even capable of committing to such a project, producing that volume of writing.

As of yesterday, it turns out that I am. I did. After a week of pretty focused pushing-through, even when it felt like what I was hammering out was crap that wouldn't survive the next draft, I crossed the threshold of 50,000 words.

Man. That felt like...something.

I don't know quite where I'm going from here, but I'm working my way through the chapters in chronological order in the hopes of arriving at a coherent enough first draft that I can get it in front of some other people and start getting feedback. There is so much I still haven't figured out, so much I'm not sure about, so many holes that need filled. But I'm feeling a little more capable than I did a few months ago. And I'll take that for now.

I actually completely forgot...

...that I had a blog. Seriously. Haven't given it a thought in quite a while, which makes me wonder whether this is really serving any purpose at this phase. Still, I'm reluctant to pull the plug. My writing energy's just focused in other directions right now. But I'll get back to it. I will. I'll be good! I promise.

Under snow

We had a couple of inches of snow at some point last week and then on Friday  night it started again, falling slowly, and picking up pace by mid-morning on Saturday. By Sunday, it was piled comically in the seats of our deck chairs like seriously over-stuffed cushions. It was deep and fluffy and covered everything. When all was said and done, we probably had a total of 9 or 10 inches for the week.

It helps that we live in a city like Ann Arbor where, by Sunday morning, all the major roads were virtually snow free and all the side roads were getting taken care of. It's not hard to cope with such snow when the city does, for the most part, a bang up job of taking care of the white stuff. Of course, we're still left to shovel our own walks and driveways, but fortunately Chris -- who had been absent for the week's earlier snow -- was back to handle the big one.

We're due another couple of inches tonight and, apparently, again tomorrow night before an ass-freezing sets in for the coming week. This is the snowiest winter of our four in Ann Arbor thus far and it'll be interesting to see how much we'll have had when all's said and done. (And, yes, as hard as it may be to believe, I still love the white stuff. By which I mean snow.)

Here are a few more shots of our house, our deck and other small sights:

Our little yellow house

Maggie's bike

Frosted fence post

The little bench by the lilac bush

Snowbama

What resolutions?

I could claim that I don't really make New Year's resolutions, sort of as a disappointment-management approach, considering I almost always break them all anyway. (I don't even remember if I resolved anything for last year, which demonstrates just how dedicated I am to such things.) Plus, I actually make resolutions all the time. Like, every day. When I get out of bed and say, "Today I will work out" or "Today will be a sugar free day." And, more often or not, I fail.

Still. I think the new year provides a good opportunity to at least reflect on the goals one has for the year ahead. Some of mine border on fantasty in terms of their likelihood to come to fruition, but it gives me a chance to think. And Lord knows I don't do enough of that. Here's what I'm considering for 2009:

1. Exercise. I know, it's so cliche it's embarrassing. But I can never seem to get to a place where I exercise consistently. I hit the Y regularly for a few months in a row, then I see something shiny and I'm off plan. I think one of the main problems for me is that I have a bag full of built in excuses (fibromyalgia, bad right knee, general laziness) and I have trouble finding a form of movement that feels good for me (fibromyaglia, bad right knee, etc.) I miss my old yoga teacher from St. Louis.

If I can just work on divorcing working out from obsession with weight, then I'd probably be less defeatist and more enthusiastic. If I can just keep the focus on good health and not waist line results, I'd probably be less committed. And I know for a fact that when I work out, I feel better in just about every way -- mentally, physically, spiritually. I have more energy. My mood is elevated. I sleep better. So what's my problem again?

2. Metabolism. So even though the docs threw the Polycistic Ovarian Syndrome diagnosis at me a couple of months ago, I'm still not sure the treatment has my metabolism working again. I'm not sleeping 14 hours a night and requiring a nap like I was late summer and my face is no longer angry all the time. But I still feel...off. I'm still gaining weight like crazy, despite efforts not to, and that's bruising my ego and dampening my spirits quite a bit. I'd just like to figure this thing out once and for all.

3. Food. Sigh. It's always food with me. Namely, sugar and other junk. The bottom line is: the more crap I eat, the more crap I crave. The more crap I eat, the worse I feel. The less crap I eat, the better I feel. Why does this simple logic elude me when faced with a bag of potato chips or a handful of cookies? The goal for this year is more whole foods, especially whole grains. More veggies, more lean protein. Me and everyone else.

4. The book. Or whatever it is. I've been so sidetracked by the holidays that I'm now 3,000 words behind schedule for finishing the first draft by end of January. Still, I'm hoping to stay the course, even if I have to lock myself in my office next week and do nothing but hammer away. This process is just so draining and so daunting. Although, it could be a good excuse to avoid the gym. Heh.

5. Reading. I have a pile of books stacked high waiting for me to wade my way through them, but I keep grabbing Us Weekly when I climb into the bath. Active reading helps me with active writing. I just need to do it. I'm currently reading Miranda July's remarkable collection of short stories, No One Belongs Here More Than You. On the waiting list are Jennifer Haigh's The Condition, Tom Perrotta's The Abstinence Teacher and re-reading some favorites by Anne Beatty, Richard Russo and others.

6. Being of service. In St. Louis, I was pretty active with Women's Support & Community Services, working their crisis line on a regular basis. Here, I focused my attention on 826 Michigan, where I taught writing workshops, both in-schools and out. That kind of fell away in the second half of the year when my energy disappeared. I think getting back in the mix would help me feel I had a little more purpose, which can be hard to achieve when you're holed up by yourself in your office all day writing a project, for yourself, which you're not sure anyone will ever read.

There. That seems like plenty, doesn't it?