Nanowrimo

National Novel Writing month. It's a bit silly. Every November, it's a challenge to write 50,000 words by midnight November 30th. Janet always encouraged me to do it. She once did what she called NaNoSymphMo, which was her writing a symphony in a month. Obviously quite harder. I don't think she finished, or at least she didn't consider it good enough to give me a listen. But I hope I'll find it someday as I poke around her music files. There's a lot.

This year, I was all set to write a fiction about a tough gal on a space station riding a Victorian bike. It was the kind of story she'd like. I'll still write it someday.

On November first, the day of the Nano kick off I had lunch with a friend who survived stomach cancer, although she lost 75% of her stomach in the process. She asked me what I was doing, and I told her.

She shook her head and said, "You have to write about her. For her. And for you." Funny how we don't mind cliched dialogue when it carries truth. When it's real.

This blog is about happy stuff, about Janet the person. Like what she liked, and even her silly habits. Like, why did she think vanilla extract had to stay in the fridge? What was with the "no folding over the towels on the towel rack" rule? And did she really ice her feet before getting into bed? Just saying.

But I'm not writing about just the happy stuff with this book. It's a Yang Yin thing, eh? The good sometimes needs the bad to make us realize how precious the good is. It's kind of like Janet and me in public. She looked even prettier when juxtaposed next to my ugly mug.

It's not an easy thing to write. I'm about 9000 words in. But I'll finish it, even if I'm the only one who reads it. For her, and yeah, for me.