Seven Months Until NaNoWriMo. in The Napkin.

When I’m not sketching The Next Routine, or jotting down periodization for lifts across rep ranges, I let my mind wander into NaNoWriMo brainstorming.

It’s never too early to start.

Every year I say I’ll start the process in October. Tell myself I’ll allocate the time to brainstorm. To get used to being in Novel Mode. And every year, I wait until November to start. It leaves me flatfooted.

I think I got a separate notebook with Novel Ideas™, but it’s underneath a bunch of york peppermint patty wrappers. Maybe I should move it to my de factor Scrap Thought Spot. Table? Surface? I have a half-tall water heater, that has a wooden top. Slightly higher than kitchen counter height, which makes it perfect for standing writing.

I still adore pacing, so letting my mind wander, and then having a spot with good lighting at a good height to write is rather nice.

As for NaNo ‘25, I’m still in the spot where I’m remembering all the completed and uncompleted projects of the past. What have I done before? What’s worth repeating? What’s something different I could do?

It’s not the naughts, where I’m worried about writing what I have before, thinking I should do something completely different. In fact, we’re all bound to have certain themes and motifs that will show up over and over in writing. But, like a painter that practices the same piece each time, with progressively better results. There is benefit to revisiting olde ideas, intentionally or not.

(By naughts, I meant 00’s - when I first started NaNoWriMo.)

So many characters have been reflections of me. I mean, duh. Writing from yourself is a smart move. Ditto basing characters a bit on people you know. With just enough twist so you have creative license to have them do things real-life-them wouldn’t say/do.

What’s interesting have been the original characters. They don’t exist - yet they feel so alive. Fiction is funny that way. You write words, a reader reads them, and then just accepts them as if they were real.

I know, I’m baffled at suspension of disbelief.

Lisa was the little sister I never had. Tina was the girl-next-door. I haven’t done The Worst Brother In The World yet. Or The Worst Father Ever. Or The Mother In Law From Hell.

Having your own current-voice in a novel is tricky, as this can solve all the problems of any previous-self-voice. I haven’t done The Cool Gay Aunt yet. Maybe one that’s actually bi, acknowledges her bi-erasure, but notes that (family) would reject her gayness if she let out she also dates dudes.

As for positive male characters, that’s not lost on me. The Dad I Never Had would certainly be therapy on crack. But in terms of writing conflict and tension, would risk Solving All The Problems.

I’m very character based, but I have given thought to theme. Loss seems to come up. The “never going home”. Death of a mother, loss of a partner, never going to your childhood home, never going to your childhood vacation spot, loss of olde friends. That sort of stuff.

I’ve done the depressed-silent-character-who-needs-to-get-out-of-shell. Also written about an addict who isn’t sure why they’re living. Having passive addiction (caffeine, TV, etc) be a passive part could be fun. But having addiction be the focus focus grinds storytelling to a halt. Or, otherwise detracts from other things.

Setting has to be late 90s. Cell phones solve too many problems.

The entire premise of Home Alone wouldn’t work today, and you know it.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m being too grounded. Every time I think of a character, I want them to have a backstory. Because, in real life, everyone has a story. A challenge prompt might be to create a fictional character not entirely based in reality Like. If it were a move, everybody else would seem grounded. But this character would seem.... out of place.

Like, the superhero version of BIGGAYDAN rather than the plainclothes gritty reboot BIGGAYDAN that’s working a 9-5 job and still being tormented by Timmy.

Actually, that’s a good example - the Narrator Timmy is a fictional character.

Who knows where my headspace will be in six months. SIX MONTHS UNTIL OCTOBER.

Funny. All this heartfelt crap I write, when I really wish I could write a farce comedy.

Well. If Star Trek TNG has taught us anything, it’s that comedy works if the characters don’t know they’re in a comedy.

Anyway, nice talking to ya, wankers. Try not to get a cramp in your calves next time you orgasm.