Saturday Morning Post, Vol. 39

Another NaNoWriMo won and done and in the bag *brushes off hands*. I finished at 1 am on Thanksgiving, fueled by brownie cheesecake.

If lucky, I’m halfway through the novel and intend to continue writing it through December (I had this grand plan at the beginning of NaNo that I would finish it by the end of year (this was fueled by further grand schemes that I would write well over 50k words in November, which I soon discovered would not happen) and though I guess it is still possible to finish it before 2021, I doubt that will happen. Meaning I doubt this novel will be under 100k). And though the book isn’t finished, NaNo is over, and I have got to focus back in querying.

And finish writing this chunky boy.


Thanksgiving was quiet, and I laid around all day like a dead fish. Like a responsible adult, I spent what time I wasn’t laying around coloring with markers.


I wrote this recently. Some sad Covid thoughts about missing doing a full production of the Nutcracker (I don’t mean to dump a rain bucket of sadness on you but….well things are just sometimes sad, and here we are):

“I never thought I would miss the Nutcracker. Maybe it’s because nothing else as exciting has replaced it. Though only two days, I am grateful for the virtual performance we were able to do in the theater. But in a way, it only made me more hungry for what was.

Five years of Nutcracker. Seven weekends. Countless outreach performances. Now two nights. Aching for agonizingly familiar music, for pain and soreness and ravenous appetites. For listening to Christmas music on the radio, for picking up Denny’s or McDonald’s past 10 pm. For makeup caked to faces and hairspray plastered to heads. To the unmatchable thrill of performing live, when only that moment matters.

I do believe in magic, if that’s Christmas and Nutcracker magic. I miss siting alone on the stage, wrapped up in funky layers (“trash”), maybe a beanie hat and a scarf, rolling about on a tennis ball, trying to loosen muscles that just wont loosen. I miss being in a crowded dressing room (you know, before we worried about giving the plague to each other). Crying and laughing. Sewing last minute pointe shoes or tears in tights, eating last minute snacks and half-dinners, selfies in the mirror, Biofreeze and heating pads, zipping and hooking each other into costumes. I miss little black dresses over my tired and sweaty body. High heels donned though our feet are all sore. Some of us get flowers, some of us head home early. The long climb back up to the dressing room. Maybe it’s just me and another dancer, switching our high heels for boots, winter coats over dresses. Good job tonight, see you tomorrow.

But not this year.”


To jump back to NaNo for a sec…in the beginning I was like, “Wow! I actually wrote an outline! I know where the story is going, I named all the places and characters…” Well, less than a few days into actually writing the thing, I realized that was….bogus.

I mean yes, the general arc of the story is planned out, but let me tell you, having a “general arc” leaves a lot of things up to chance. I went from one talking crow to a whole bunch of them, from my MC joining the infantry to joining an elite fighting force, from a random sand monster to a sand WYRM that swallowed a horse whole, and…

Basically having a general arc is still pantsing and you never know when a character might get killed off or when you MC will decide to look like pirate and get a piercing in one ear.

But over all, I’m happy with how the story has panned out so far. I finally have “the squad” together, though they don’t realize they’re a squad yet. I’m almost, so close to finally getting to *drum roll* THE SNOW QUEEN. (I’ve been waiting to write that part since January. Which…I might not be writing till January *face palms*)


Nothing says Black Friday like nearly getting body slammed by a Target employee.

(I would like to say that I was also working at Target yesterday, so the awkwardness was doused a little. But I was walking out of the backroom and he was running in and…..basically I was a steel wall that he hit).


AND. That’s it. Have a great weekend folks.

2 responses to “Saturday Morning Post, Vol. 39”

  1. Just…. Nutcracker tears 😭 😩


  2. Also, you just described the whole dancer experience of Nutcracker PERFECTLY


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