NaNoWriMo ain't happening. This last week has largely been lost to me, and hopes of making something out of this weekend evaporated in a burst of back pain and whining. But it wasn't gonna happen anyway -- it's been a while since I've transcribed the piece I was working on, but I'm probably still well short of the halfway mark. One thing for sure -- if I try this again next year (third time's the charm, right?) I need to take some time off work.
There were some other issues too. I don't like the narrative voice I created -- the narrator (a college student) was a self-pitying, passive character who frankly deserved to get slapped around a bit. Also, while I had the book outlined up to a point, I lost sight of where it was going, and it rapidly because variations on a theme -- the same plot point, repeated in different ways.
Don't want to be too negative. There were some passages that I was kind of pleased with, and are probably salvageable. I've written more this month (between this and some other projects) than I have in years, and got (at times) into a nice little pattern. Now, hopefully, writing (of some sort) will continue.
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Spent much of this weekend lying around, complaining to the walls about how much my back hurt. It left a lot of time for reading. As a result:
#48 -- "Love and Garbage" by Ivan Klima
Of the main pre-Velvet Revolution Czech writers (I'll throw Kundera, Skvorecky, Hrabal in there), I've read the least by Klima. I've got a few of his books on the shelf, but just haven't delved in.
It's very beautiful and intricate, dealing with the narrator's marriage and affair, and keeping all involved sympathetic. The time and place keep jumping unexpectedly, but it's remarkably easy to get used to it. It's a little pretentious at times (the garbage metaphors are pretty strained) but overall a good read (and perfect for miserable gray days).