Blog challenge · Blogging · Humor · Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · postaday · writing

NaNoWriMo Update

Happy Monday everyone. Well at least as happy as a Monday can be. Got to make the best of things.

Thought I would give you a quick update on my NaNo writing and maybe a small, tiny little piece of what I’m doing. Won’t give you the genre just yet. Got to keep some mystery right?

Anyway Friday was Nov 1st and the start of NaNo. I got off to a terrible start due to some software glitches and other stuff I had to finish. So didn’t do too well word wise. Only 1374 the first day, although I did that in a little over an hour, so not too shabby. But I wasn’t happy.

Nov 2nd came and it was the weekend. I sat down and the words just would not come! My mind was a blank. Now quite often my mind is a blank but this was not good when I need to write 1667 words a day! That’s just to keep on target! So I’m a bit upset with myself, but go do a few other things and settle myself down. Come back to the computer and just write. Finally managed 1288 words before company showed up and blew me out of the water. Ugh.

I let the first few days go, figure I still have all month I will just have to be more disciplined. So Sunday I take my coffee in my office with Sam and close the door. I need quiet when I write so closed the door because the husband has to have the tv on full blast. Settle in my chair with my Tim’s coffee and just start writing. Didn’t stop till I had nothing left in me. Managed to do 2522 words! Yehaw!! Go me! With that my word count in back on track for the month and I am up to 4 chapters. Doing good so far.

So I did a bit of cruising the old web and found a pretty cool calendar you can print out for NaNo. It keeps track of your word count in easy chunks. So it doesn’t seem too overwhelming and quite doable. It’s at, David has a pretty cool blog also you might want to check out.

I have a huge cork board on my office wall and I pinned it up there. Looks nice and cheerful. Go take a look and print one out for yourself. You’re Welcome.

Anyway, I haven’t done my writing yet today for NaNo so I need to get moving. I’m doing good though, not yet noon here. Below is a tiny bit of what I wrote yesterday. Let me know what you think. See you all later!


All of us kids were terrified of my dad. He had a bad temper and he was the one we got the worse beatings from. He didn’t shy away from using his fists or his feet. Don’t get me wrong. I loved my father very much. It was just he had a really short triggered temper. When I became older him and I had a few shouting matches. I believe I was the only one of his kids that ever did that. I was never punished for it either. I think in his way he respected me for standing up for myself. I suppose I will never know now that he’s dead. But I often think that is how it was.

I remember so vividly the first time he and I had a shouting match. I think I was about 14, maybe younger. It was summertime and I was trying to help my dad pack a small flatbed trailer for our two-week vacation. By then OB was well out of the picture. My other older brother S* was married and out of the house. It was just me, my sister and younger brother. We always spent summer vacations in upper Wisconsin. We rented a cabin from a family friend for two weeks that was right on a beautiful lake. Still, packing for a two-week vacation for five people generated a lot of stuff! We had to take our own bedding, towels, clothes and of course lots of other stuff Mom thought was important.

So I was helping him try to fit everything in this small trailer. My dad was never the most patient of men. His fuse was short and quick. Things were not fitting like he wanted. Too many boxes and not enough room. He lost his temper and just started yelling at me.

“Why the hell is there so much shit?!” He yelled.

“How is so much shit needed for two freakin’ weeks!? It won’t all fit in this freakin’ damn trailer!” Dad screams at me as he throws a small box toward me.

I think I was so stunned that he would throw something at me when all I was trying to do is help that I just lost all common sense for a minute.

“What are you yelling at me for?!” I screamed right back.

“I didn’t pack the darn stuff! All I am trying to do is help!” I yelled, then promptly started crying and stomped toward the back door of the house.

I was so mad and so scared at the same time because I yelled back at him, I just wanted to go to my room and have a good cry. As I went through the back door into the kitchen, my mom asked what all the yelling was about.

“Dad just lost it because he says there is too much stuff to pack on the trailer and it won’t fit. So he started yelling at me and it’s not my fault!” I told her then went to my bedroom and sat on my bed.

I remember thinking, ‘I’ll be damned if I’ll help him anymore. He can just yell and scream at someone else. I’ve had enough! Mom packed the boxes not me! Yell at her why don’t you’! I of course never said these things out loud, I figured I was already in enough trouble just by yelling back at him. No one yelled back at my dad, except mom. Not any of us kids that was for sure. Unless you wanted a good beating. I really thought that was what I was going to get once he came back into the house. I was in for a surprise though.

I was sitting on my bed trying really hard not to cry and scared to death. I felt for sure I was in for a beating. Okay, not a beating since Dad stopped hitting us girls when we turned teenagers. He told us we were young ladies then and ladies didn’t get hit by men. But believe me his yelling was enough to scare the crap out of you. So I felt even IF he didn’t hit me I was in for a some classic Dad yelling. I heard him come in the house and say something to my mom. They talked for a few minutes and then I heard him walking toward my room. Oh shit, here it comes. I braced myself.

“You okay?” Dad asked from the doorway of my room.

“I guess.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. Come help me finish so we can get going.” My dad said as he held out his hand.

I hesitated for a moment. I couldn’t believe my ears. Dad apologized? To me? For yelling? Wow! He never apologized! Not even to mom that I have ever heard. I had a witness too! My sister was in the room sitting on her bed, her eyes were big and she was as quiet as a mouse. We both felt for sure I was going to be punished for daring to yell at dad. And he came and apologized!

That was a moment in my history I will never forget. I dared to stand up for myself for the first time and I won! It wasn’t the last time me and dad shouted at each other. But each time I did it was justified. It must have been because I was never punished for it. It also was not the first time he apologized to me either. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen.

The rest of the packing went fairly smoothly and we set off for our vacation. But I was looked at kind of in awe for a few days from my siblings. I yelled back at dad and came out of it the victor. It didn’t last long, but hey I lived through it.