Rachael

My sister Bethany and I are committing to the insanity that is NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). We're going to write another novel in the moth of November. We'll head full tilt down that crazy hill and not stop till we get to the bottom, even if we trip and fall and roll the last few feet.

The best thing about NaNo? You write a novel in a month. 1667 words a day, that's all! (Usually I like to write 2k/day so I have a little cushion on the days I cannot get it together. This year I'll try to write 4k/day because I'm completely insane.)

The worst thing about NaNo? You write a novel in a month. All the words in your head come out your fingertips and hit the keyboard, and you know what's left over for talking to other people? Nothing. Your wife says, "What do you want for dinner?" and you say, "Are you tapas bar? Cry on leftist bank of saints and inchworms! Jessh!"

It can be (well) argued that 50,000 words does not an entire novel make. That's true. Most YA novels are bigger than that nowadays. You know what I say to that argument? Write the WHOLE book then! (Watch the arguer backpedal: No, no, 50,000 is a lot of words, I'll be fine with that….) Me, I'm going to try to write a whole book. All 100,000 words. Stop it. I am. (Eeek!)

Um. I suppose I should come up with a plot. Soon. (You can preplan, but not prewrite.) Sigh. Can I borrow one from somebody? (I'm just kidding. YOU write your story! Do it! Do it! I wanna hear about THAT!)

So I'm committing to raising money for the Night of Writing Dangerously, NaNoWriMo's fundraiser for their Young Writers Program (more than 2000 classrooms will be writing along in November for NaNo!). Usually it's Bethany's pledge page and then she lets me tag along, but this year, I beat her to the punch! But she'll be my guest if we raise $350.

Bethany and I both want to say this, humbly:

Dear Fairy Godmother, We know the economy is hard and even though you've sent us to this for the last few years, you do NOT HAVE TO send us again. Really. We love you, no matter what!

Everyone else, We know the economy is hard and even $5 makes a difference to this program. It's something we really, really, really believe in. Words are magic, and they are giving the gift of the belief in words to kids. That's amazing.

CLICK ON CHRIS BATY TO DONATE —>

*Edited to add:
CARTWHEELS. She did it again. Writes our darling FG: Dear Rachael and Bethany, It wouldn't be Nanowrimo if I didn't know you were at the Night of Writing Dangerously. Have a great time! Your Fairy Godmother

We are so happy and so grateful. We will make you proud.

Hiya! What do you think? I'm just settling in, unpacking the furniture and hanging the pictures. Darling Carrieoke did this on top of my old, kludged [Technical Term] site. I'm really pleased with the Books page.

What's doing over here: I've been sitting at the dining room table for hours, working on entering line edits (taking a first draft from embarrassing to readable). The first rain of the season has started, and I've been so happy, eating my seaweed snacks (addicted!), listening to it come down outside. An hour ago, I poured myself a glass of wine.

I've just realized that I'm exhausted (perhaps the wine helped me realize this?). I'm going to go lie on the couch with a book and do nothing but read. Oh, and I'll see how many animals I can get on the couch with me*. A coup is six. Almost unheard of is seven (since Clara takes her jobs very seriously, and sitting with us on the couch is NOT one of them). I made her get up once, and all nine of us were on the couch for just one brief second, long enough to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Aside – did you know that a group of cats is a clowder? I love that. It's right up there with a murder of crows and Lala's new term, a shame of exes.

*Sometimes we really do look around and wonder out loud, "How did this happen to us?" Today I was talking with a coworker who has four kids under the age of five and he says he and his wife say the same thing.

We had a party the other day. (Let me say this up front: If we like each other and normally hang out and you weren't invited it is because Evite apparently ate half the invitations. I tried to clean it up via email where I could, but still, people fell through the cracks and I will continue to feel badly about that. But I am moving on. There. Hugs.)

It was by far the best party we've ever thrown (and we've thrown some doozies). It included some of each of my favorite knitters and writers and musicians (and isn't it awesome when someone lands in all three categories?). But that mix is normal for a Chez Hehu party (normal and AWESOME). This is why it was my favorite party:

I gave up hostessing.

In the past, I've always felt that my role as the Party Thrower should be making sure everyone is having fun. I must talk to everyone for at least long enough for them to feel heard but not to the point of neglecting anyone else. I must make sure glasses are filled. I must make sure food continues to come out and be consumed. I must mingle and introduce people (my least-liked task since having to make an introduction stresses me out to the point of forgetting my own name let alone those of the people I'm introducing). I'm a social person, and I like parties. But I vastly like attending parties at other people's houses, so I don't have to be the person who is taking care of everything (or worse, the person who feels like she has to take care of everything but actually doesn't).

So at this last party? I played music.

I got out the accordion early in the evening, and I was still playing it on the back porch close to midnight (luckily, the neighbors were invited and present). We had a clutch of rotating musicians: Lala played the standup bass and the banjo (and the guitar, I think), and Tom kicked ass on the guitar, Rom played a blow-organ (I don't know if I'd ever seen a melodica in action before), Laura played the fiddle, Carol played the uke, and others jumped in and out. Camilla, who brought the KEG of beer (!), rocked OUT on the accordion and I just kind of tried to back her up.

Now, people. A two-accordion party is perhaps one more accordion than any party needs. But I was in love and having a ball. I've never really jammed on the accordion to anything but my iTunes library, so it was a rush (and I don't think I sucked too badly. I wasn't good, no — but I kept up sometimes with my simple playing).

And I finally got it. I'd kind of felt it with my uke playing, but this cemented it. All those times you've wondered if the musicians have more fun at the party than you do? They do. It was more fun.

It kept my hands busy. It kept my worried-hostess-mind mostly quiet (it still squawked every once in a while — I should be mingling more! I should put more white wine in the fridge!) and it was just plain damn fun.

I didn't knit much. I didn't talk writing much. But I looked around at my friends and saw them doing the things they loved, and I saw them all talking and laughing with each other, and I was so happy.

I got some times wrong on the below post! (They are now fixed, but do make a note if you were planning on coming to Berkeley or Alameda. Please come?)

Also added:

Sunday October 16th, Keplers, Menlo Park, 1pm

And in MORE fun news: Have you read this yet?

I haven't read it yet, but I'm going to dig into it tonight. I know it's a special issue from Piece Work, but how many of these have there been? I think I've only seen one other one, but this says Fall 2011. Anyone know? Am I hopelessly out of the loop?

And Digit says he's not too old to hold paws in bed:

Polydactyl paw!

 

Hola!

I realize I'd almost forgotten to tell you that I have three more readings scheduled, and I'd love it if you could come. So far they're only in the SF Bay Area (sorry about that!) but I'll let you know if roam farther afield.

Sunday, Oct 2, Mrs. Dalloways, Berkeley, 4pm

Sunday Oct 9 Books Inc., Alameda, 6pm

Thursday Oct 20 Bookshop West Portal, San Francisco, 7pm

Oh, and Lambtown Oct 1st! 2-5 at Piedmont Yarn's booth.

More details here. I would LOVE it if you came. I give nice things away, randomly. You might get lucky!

Speaking of lucky, I'm going out for drinks tonight at the Claremont Hotel with my dad. Now, that whole sentence is so strange to me. Do you know the Claremont?

It's a fancy-schmancy place in the Berkeley Hills. Once I went to a police department party there, and I wouldn't let the guy valet my car. I parked across the street so no one would have to deal with my janky electric windows and locks that only go up/down/lock every second Tuesday at 11:37 am.

Growing up, we stayed at the Motel 6, yo. I remember parking in the far side of the lot. We'd hide with Mom in the car until Dad got the key and then we'd sneak into the room and stay there under his Single price. We camped, sleeping in the VW van. We stayed on friends' floors. I can't remember a single fancy hotel stay in my life.

So to have my dad call and say, "I'm going to be in town. Let's get a drink at the Claremont." Well, that's just weird. That's like saying, "Here, let me pour some Coors into that crystal goblet you're holding." And I am ALL about that. Contradictions. I like them. (Turns out he's at a conference, but I'm still looking forward to seeing how the other half live. Eavesdropping on the rich is a LURVELY thing to do.)

Before I go out there, I'm planning on doing a little shopping (gah, hate shopping) and some writing (yay, love writing). If I'm lucky? A nap. A good day. What are you doing?

It's been busy round Chez Hehu these days. I've been doing a bunch of interviews lately (my favorite of which so far is THIS ONE with Lisa Davis of It's Your Health. She is a doll, a total delight, her husband is a writer, and she's my new BFF. I swear I want to go to Boston just to hang out with her).

I've been working long shifts at the day job (which is great! yay new job!), so I'm concentrating on HAVING FUN when I get home. Yesterday I got home around 2pm, and I managed to fit in a nap,  a walk with the dogs at the cemetery, a nephew sighting, a little writing, a delicious dinner with La (she made Indian spiced salmon), and a viewing of Thor. Now that I think about it, maybe THAT'S why I didn't fall in love with the movie. I liked it, but I thought it was super-cheesy, and I can appreciate cheese on a normal day.

Gratuitous picture of Clementine's tongue:

HA! And a new pic of my party dress (Vivien of Holloway, in case you're curious — I got the crinoline there, too, and it's amazing, floofy but not starched).

Please ignore the dusty mirror. It lives in the hallway and we actually never use it. I had to haul it out and prop it on a chair to get a full-length view of myself.

And now, back to plotting mischief! (Never fear, it's the fictional kind.)