Slept in this morning. The buzz of a text message shocked me out of sleep around 10:30. I was in bed by 1:00 last night and I needed the sleep but I'm a little bummed I slept that long. It’s November 1rst. I suppose National Novel Writing Month has begun. Another writing journey begins. The quest is very similar to the one I took two years ago but something has changed. I have a stronger, purer faith in myself and God and I know that if I give this my best, I will succeed.

I am still working on the character sketch for Kelly. At this point I feel like she has been revived and is a more complete person. Thinking about what she would have been like as a child and how she feels about her family makes me like her more. Kelly McAllister is not my type of person, but she doesn’t have to be. She’s gentle, kind and loving when she’s not stressed out and concerned about her marriage. She’s just like the rest of us. Good, bad, somewhere in-between. She has some tender memories of her family, and underneath the resentment towards her husband she craves happiness. Not just for herself, but for Ian and Finnegan.

Although character sketches can be tedious, they’re also a lot of fun. Creating the back story for characters stimulates the imagination so much. At this point I have pictures and events from Kelly’s life running through my head like a movie reel. Snapshots of her life appear before my eyes. This one is still revealing itself:

A family trip to New York. Kelly and her brother Chris dig their tiny toes into the Coney Island sand and use red plastic shovels to build a makeshift sand castle. Her big toe brushed over the top of a seashell, producing a tiny tear. A grain of sand snuck into the minuscule wound and caused it to itch, but she didn’t cry. Instead she bit her bottom lip and smiled. Her wispy blonde hair is in two pigtails and she’s wearing a pink bathing suit. She can’t remember if she was three or four but she recalls laughter and happiness. The cool foaming water washes up just a few feet from where they play. Their parents are sitting in white and green beach chairs sipping something alcoholic and enjoying the view. It was the early 1980s.

It’s just a silly little blurb but it helps me become more familiar with who Kelly is. We aren’t born monsters or saints or victims or victors. We fall into those roles over time. We choose to stay there, or we transcend into another place of being. Where will Kelly end up? I already think I know, but maybe she will change and make a new decision. I’m not going to make the call at this moment. Let’s just see what happens.

The rules for National Novel Writing Month, which, of course, I will tailor to fit my needs because rules are made to be broken, state the you should be writing over 1666 words a day. I, of course, am not working on a new novel and have plenty of reading to do in addition to my writing. I will admit, right now, sitting here in front of my computer, I can feel my throat close up a little thinking about the massive task I have assigned myself. Not to mention, what if that one lone publisher I submitted the first three chapters of Lives Lived to happens to say, “Hey! We want to see the rest!” Hmmm….this could be an issue but it’s an issue I’d like to have. Even if I have to scramble to get things done in like a few days, the stress of that would be exhilarating. I would enjoy every frantic, sleepless second of that massive crunch. Whatever happens to be the case, I plan on splitting my days between reading and writing. Right now I am in the middle of the section of Lives Lived where I think things get a little choppy. There is some rewriting to be done. I’m nervous but happy to be going through this experience. I don’t know where it will take me but I’m happy to go where it leads.