Back on (the NaNo) Track

I'm finely back on track.
Nearly half-way through November and I'm finally settling into writing mode to finish my fifty thousand words by the end of the month.
If you'd asked me yesterday I would have said there was no way in the world I could possibly finish the fifty thousand words in time. Today, it all seems possible.
Have I mentioned before that cafe's are wonderful things? I might have?
Let me re-mention it. Cafes are wonderful things. In fact, I might go further and say that cafes - away from all the distractions of home - the washing to do, the floor to mop, the dishes - are a writer's best friend. Or maybe a working mum's best friend. Today after the Kindy drop my Beloved and I both went to the University, me to sit in the cafe (with a coffee, a real, live -okay, not so live, coffee, yay for second trimester!) and write, him to work in the library with his study group. It's oddly companionable to know that we're both frantically working in the same building, although my Beloved obviously has far more at stake.
Anyway, in the cafe, away from distractions, I've managed to put six thousand words under my belt and double my word count.
The cute little Nano graph that tells you how you're going is still looking very behind, but I now only need to write a little over two thousand words a day to catch up. I can do that.
The most annoying thing is the words I wrote pre- Nano, when I was prepping. I wrote about four thousand words before Nano started, just outlining what happens in each chapter, so the story doesn't become too derailed. Now every time I do a word count (roughly every five hundred words, ahem) I have to minus those 4,970 words. It only takes a few seconds, but it's irritating, and the first figure looks smug and respectable and then I minus the 4,970 words and it looks so much less smug and respectable.
But I'm finally back on track. The words are flowing. Those hard, stuttering first chapters are over and I firmly believe (touch wood) that it's all go-go-go from here. The adrenaline is back.
My Beloved has told me I need to write, not least because I am a far nicer person when I am writing. I tend to believe him. And now the story has me firmly in it's grip it's all smiles (and coffee) from here.
Ahem. I hope.  

Weekly Stills: Autumn

1. Autumn Leaves
2. Coffees on a rainy day
3. Crysanthemum
4. Autumn Leaf
5. Autumn Treasures... and op-shop treasures. My new little tea-set
6. Honey Toast. I know you can salt-gargle for cold throats... but lashings of manuka honey on toast is so much nicer. And I think the butter is very... healing.

We've had a week of rain and mist. It's been lovely. We've rugged up and done lots of baking. If you make brownies with wholemeal flour they're healthy. Really. I've loved listening to the rain and looking at it fall, the smells of burning wood and cooking marshmallows. I'm still amazed at how much more active my brain seems in brisker weather. The world seems twice as vibrant, as full of wonder. O, Autumn, I do so love you!

Joining with the wonderful Em (and her gorgeous newborn, Elke) at The Beetleshack for Sunday Stills

Yay, me!

As of right this minute, 3.40pm, 30^th April 2013, I’ve completed Camp NaNoWriMo. For the uninitiated that means that in the last 30 days I’ve finished 50,000 words of my novel, Overly Caffeinated Werewolves (Are not Pretty), and I'll get all sorts of cute goodies like computer badges and half-price writing programs.

 Yay me! Happy Dance! I'm a winner - it says so on my stats page and I didn't even need to run anywhere or muck around with a ball!It’s a wonderful feeling. A nice solid, bulk of work, sitting there emanating good vibes at me from the heart of my computer. There's still another 25-35,000 words to go, but the main structures there, and its been so much fun to write and I can't wait to juggle it around a bit and see what happens.

So, yes, my manuscripts a mess. Things are all higgledy-piggledy and towards the end there I was just writing scenes with neither placement not correct punctuation. 

Stuff happened I did not plan and that still vaguely perplexes me. Did I know the Sun goddess and her fiery chariot were going to play such a strong role, or that Mia would go hang out with the Greek style, but double-breasted, Amazons in Amazonia, where the Sun and the Moon have a massive break-up fight in the middle of the river?

I didn’t have a clue. But she did. And they did. And I think it will work.

Nor did I know Mia's detectiving would lead her to the land of the Were-Cats and the sad tale of the were-wolf and the were-cat who fell in love and had kittubs, who become the Lands first police force….

Okay, I admit, when you don’t have the time to think things through plots get messy… but I’m sure given a few strong blows and some nails I can hang it all together!

But the words are there. I’m confident that with a bit of play I can make something fun and strong and full of fizz from them.

And now, now I can finally edit! Those pages that weren’t quite right so I rewrote them? Those extra adjectives that so aren’t my protagonists style. Vamos! They go.

I just have to wait until I’ve uploaded the words and it’s all been verified and I  can hack into the manuscript with an ax and remove all the dead wood and really see it’s beautiful  trunk and branches.  (Have I played with that metaphor enough? – the trees out the window before me are stunning falls of sun-caught gold, so I’m very ‘treed’ up.)

Presently, thanks to too many 4am writing starts, I am a tad sleep deprived, and possibly a little too caffeinated. When you have to stop and think before you can work out how many coffees you've drunk, the suggestion is there's been a few too many. 

But... oo. Happy shivers. Hello, my little manuscript, I'm very pleased to meet you!

Coffee, Coffee, Coffee

I'm way, way behind on my Camp Nano word count. Which is strange 'cos I'm completely loving writing Overly Caffeinated Werewolves, but If I'm to get my 50,000 words by the end of March, I need to so get onto it. At the moment I'm blaming the evil tummy bug for the delay, but I can't help feeling a real writer would have just ploughed on right through.
Anyway. I'm bringing out the big guns.
Coffee, Coffee, Coffee!
So:
(Homemade) Coffee Candles. Lit.
Coffee: In Mug. Double Shot. Friends of Same, East Timorese Blend. Courtesy of Mum.
Music: Coffee Playlist, Itunes.
Presently Playing: The Coffee Song, The Coffee Protection Society.

Wish me luck! I'm aiming for another 10,000 words by... o, tomorrow night. 23:59 hour.

What do you do when you want to get a lot done in a short amount of time?

Weekly Stills

 1. Coffee Candles. Last week while washing the dishes the kitchen was suddenly full of the heady smell of coffee. Some detective work showed me my Sprocket had got into the coffee and made an aromatic mountain on the kitchen floor. I decided the time had come to finally put a pinterest idea into play and voila coffee candles! They smelt divine!

2. My Poppet adores a cartoon called Peppa Pig and on the hotter nights last week she begged for 'muddy puddles' to jump in while I watered my poor, dried out garden. It's nice to be able to bring so much joy so easily!

3 & 4. See above! Lots of fun in muddy puddles!

5. A promise Autumn is truly on the way. Raindrops on oak leaves!

6. My Poppet running on the beach.

7. My Sprocket with a smoothed stone.

8. My Poppet rugged up for Autumn!



Joining with the wonderful Em at The Beetleshack for Weekly Stills. 

I believe you talked me into it (one more cup of coffee...)

On Saturday I bundled up my beloved and met up with a friend and we had coffee in the big smoke.
I tried not to look too much like the country bumpkin I now am, after all, Melbourne CBD was my stomping ground for many years, but there were a few times I had to close my gaping mouth, and not just at how aggressive city drivers are.
Now, we didn't just have any old cup of coffee.
We were all snooty like and went to a coffee tasting.
I might have mentioned (a few hundred times) that I'm about to stop dilletanting around with backstory and start writing my next book, Overly Caffeinated Werewolves (Are Not Pretty), and in aid of this I have begun serious research into The Coffee World. (O, the hardships! Does not your heart bleed for me?) Unfortunately, recent trials have proved that drinking too much coffee makes me ravenously hungry, so I've been trying to cut it down to one cup a day. However, in the interests of research, I sometimes make it two. Or three. Occasionally four.
Purely for the sake of research, you understand.
Anyway, researching places I could test really good coffee in Melbourne both Campos coffee and Seven Seeds Coffee came up on google, and I chose Seven Seeds on the basis of.. well, it was free,  while Campos charge $30.
Seven Seeds Cafe is tucked into an industrial-ish street near the Queen Vic Market and very easy to miss. We arrived early for a coffee (the kind with milk) and it was bustling and thriving and looked very cool with lots of exposed bricks. I am a sucker for exposed bricks.
The actual tasting was in a little glassed in room they use for training and was... brilliant. To be honest I thought they'd have us in and out in five minutes, but it went for nearly forty five minutes and Casey, the teacher, was wonderful. She was just back from a coffee buying mission to Burundi and full of knowledge, stories and passion.
The table was laid with 6 different coffees from various countries and we all had impressive clipboards and sheets to note our impressions. First off, we circled the table smelling the ground coffee. I completely failed to smell any of the notes of caramel, spice, woodsmoke or anything else I was supposed to. I did get a repeated smell of maybe... roast tomato? And one coffee totally smelt of tea-rose. After we'd all (very seriously) made our notes, hot water was added, and we smelt again. The smells were completely different.
And I am totally not a super-nose.
I did not smell any aromas of black-currant nor of roast beef. But never mind, my protagonist will be a super-nose. I will live vicariously. Fiction is good like that.
We waited awhile, while Casey told us about what they look for in beans (a clean, fresh, fruity or florally taste) and how a lot of ordering is done on big online coffee auctions and then we 'broke' the coffee (disrupted the crema on the surface) and tasted it again. And it was totally different. (More so to people with more refined palates than mine own) Some tastes had intensified, some had gone, some had come...
And then finally... when the time was right, we tasted.
And it all just tasted like coffee to me.
We were supposed to slurp it off the spoon and half the time I had a coughing fit, but it all seemed... very coffee like. Some were quite pleasant. All could have done with lots of froth.
I am not a sophisticate. But never mind, my character is, and I now know how she needs to 'cup' (taste) her coffee samples and what she's looking for and what she intends to avoid. (Potato tasting coffee is bad, very bad. Who would have thunk it!)
And now?
Well, I am a massive Seven Seeds fan. (No, this is not a sponsored post... giggle!) And my beloved and I intend to 'cup' all of the numerous coffees we have in the house to try to develop our noses. And I think, I think I need to go to more coffee tastings.
So much fun!

                                         My coffee at Seven Seeds. A lovely caramel aftertaste.

                                      The roaster at Seven Seeds

                                          Coffee Plants at Seven Seeds in a little glass room.

                                                The 'cupping' table

                                             Coffee Poster

                                            A fellow taster. Okay, the friend I dragged along (My beloved is anti-having his photo online) Also displaying the exposed brickwork.

                                             Unroasted coffee beans

Coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee

Coffee, I love you.
Let me count the ways I dote upon you, my caffeine-carrying-friend.
I love the way you start the day.
I love your dark beauty.
I love the rich aromas of your beans. I love the way your arabica beans feel as they jostle in my hand. I accept no substitution.
I love the heated curve of the cup-nestled-you in my hand.
I love the scent of your steam, fragrantly rising in life-giving whisps.
I love your heady jolt.
I love the way you break the day up.
I love the comfort in the routine of your making.
I love your buzz.
I love the fascination of your eventful past.
Coffee, I love you.

‘Father! Don’t be so unkind! If I can't drink my cup of coffee three times a day I’ll become a straggly goat, to my great dismay. O how sweet the coffee’s taste is, sweeter than a thousand kisses, smoother far than Muscat wine. Coffee, coffee give me mine, and if someone wants to  treat me, let them offer me a coffee.'

 Coffee Cantata, Johahn Sebastian Bach, 1732

Hot as hell,

Black as the devil,

Pure as an angel

And sweet as love –

That’s how coffee must be. 

Charles Duke of Talleyrand

French politician 1754-1838

He was my cream, and I was his coffee, and when you poured us together, it was something.

Josephine Baker, US Singer and Civil Activist 1906-1975