i’m not really doing the write everyday, make a novel challenge in november. shocking, i know. it is already the 4th, and my intention was to write every day all month, just for myself and from that writing, glean something worthy of sharing.
and then Halloween and the collapse the day afterwards, a day of work and soccerfinals, and willful lounging, and here i am, on the 4th day of November. So I’m re-naming my plan the 4FucksakeNovember writing plan.
catchy?
4FucksakeNovember. 4FSN. I did write for 20 minutes this morning, which is a great start for me. and here I am here. So doubly delicious.
Here’s a little of it. Its from a prompt by Cynthia Lee, in noticing color… i don’t know why the formatting is off, but lets act like its intentional and seek meaning where we find things of notice.
yeah? There are two 6’s. and I’m leaving it like that. take a deep breath, LSlaT.
1.the yellow lights in my kitchen, only yellow against the turquoise of the walls, the white framing of the doors, all chipped and peeled and damaged by dogs and children alike.
2.the wilderness of color i surround myself with, almost too much, maybe.. Its impossible to see a blank space in this kitchen as i write, the blue and red of the glasses,
3.the purple of the new cleaner for the littlest’s first ear piercings. Ah, the life she has ahead of her.
4.the boy who pierced her ears was perhaps the most flamboyant person she has ever met in real life. It was fun to watch a person living in flame brushing against this formed and unformed small buttery redhead.
5.the shiny green of my bomber jacket, that all my kids say makes me look huge. And they’ve all tried to wear it to school. Even the freshman. Because mom is a big-bellied badass.
6. Pink sofa in the kitchen.. i’m going to sit in it and watch the fire while i write this winter. It will be the first window that i cover in plastic this november, because of this plan.
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My fingernails are black in favor of Halloween and I think I’m going to keep it like this for a bit. I quite like the drama. And it makes me laugh how much pretend i play.
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The dishtowels have bright yellow bursts on them. I made porkroast with giant chunks of orange carrot in its midst last night. None of the kids understand why carrots must be included, until i point out the colorscheme involved.
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Memory is a little constant this month, a little too much. And i see it in the shadows of the other rooms in the morning, that lurking presence. well, less lurk than hover. It is here, so much.
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The gold peeking from the dogs mouth as he assaults another plastic doodad from a kid collection, that gold he should not have, that gold i am glad he is assaulting, as it means there is one less doodad in the house. Nothing gold can stay.
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emblem of fall, isn’t it? nothing gold can stay. emblem? metaphor? symbol?varsity letter jacket. noone writes ‘nothing gold can stay’ in country rustic decor. i guess that means what it means. no one wants that reminder.
