BORing.

November 5, 2007

That’s what my life is feeling like right now, which is why I haven’t updated this blog. Boring in a good way, though. I had a NASTY cold on Wednesday and Thursday that caused me to cancel classes on Thursday and stay home to recuperate–which was the best thing that could have happened to me, work-wise, as it forced me to slow down and get some rest. I finished grading all of my midterms on Friday, so the rest of the weekend was incredibly relaxing, just hanging out spending quality time (of all sorts) with G. We also caught up with some friends we love and have not seen in a while on Sunday, and saw Denzel’s new movie with them. Two thumbs up!

I’ve also decided to sign up for NaNoWriMo, although I was a few days late getting started, so I’m already behind. I have a little over 3000 words written–one and a half chapters–and only twenty-five days to come up with the remaining 47,000. Whoa.

Why NaNoWriMo? Well, last week I was struck by what I think is a pretty cool idea for a novel, and that’s really all that has been stopping me from trying my hand at writing fiction again–lack of ideas. I used to write poetry fairly seriously, and kind of gave it up after graduate school. I always said that if I ever went back to writing, it would be to write fiction, but inspiration was slow in coming. Then, as I was coming out of the worst of my cold this week, I remembered that November is National Novel Writing Month, and I thought about my idea, and I figured, “why not?” As they say on the website,

If you don’t do it now, you probably never will. Novel writing is mostly a “one day” event. As in “One day, I’d like to write a novel.” Here’s the truth: 99% of us, if left to our own devices, would never make the time to write a novel. It’s just so far outside our normal lives that it constantly slips down to the bottom of our to-do lists. The structure of NaNoWriMo forces you to put away all those self-defeating worries and START.

So I figure, the worst thing that could happen is I produce 50,000 words (or, um, significantly fewer) of garbage that never sees the light of day. And best-case scenario, I come up with a workable draft that can actually be revised into something publishable sometime in the future.

I won’t say too much about the plot of this oh-so-brilliant work of fiction, but I will say that it has to do with infertility, and unintended consequences. Sorry to be so cryptic. Maybe when I’m farther along I’ll reveal a little more. I feel pretty sheepish about the whole thing, as I know a few “real writers” — there is a major, award-winning novelist, a young guy, who is a faculty member in my department, actually. His office is across from mine. We often chat about how I probably could never write fiction since I have never experienced anything interesting. The last thing I’d want to do is go to him and admit that I’m trying to write a novel in (fewer than) 30 days. But it’s not that I take fiction writing lightly, or think that I’m going to produce something worth reading in that span of time. I just figure, I might as well give it a try–since I finally, finally have an idea worth pursuing. And it does come out of my experience, as fertility struggles are the most “interesting” thing that’s ever happened to me.

Apropos of that, it’s CD 18 already, and true to my new “I stay oblivious” approach, I have no idea whether I’ve already ovulated or not this month. I’m pretty sure that I have, but not completely sure. Assuming I have already ovulated, then like most months recently, there is a small chance based on our timing that I could be knocked up, and (based on frequency) the chance is better this month than it has been in a while. But I’m not getting my hopes up. Period’s due around November 13th or 14th, and I’m sure it will show up right on time.

Which will be the most boring news of all. Aunt Flo is just SO predictable, isn’t she?