Bacchante, William Bouguereau
Last week, one morning as I sat down at Mac to write the day’s Nano pages, my brain was dry as the inside of an old well. I could see calcified mud on the sides, but there I sat, a little after 4 in the morning, wondering what the hell was I doing. Still, regardless of my empty mind, I found the words and soon I had my 1667 and a bit more. Oops, I did it again.
This year’s Nano novel, The Key to Chaos, I’m calling it, is going down haphazardly, absolutely no sense of direction to it. It’s a discovery draft–by the time November 30 arrives, I hope to have found the story. I had a story in mind on October 31, but somewhere between midnight and the dawn of November 1 that story fell back into the chasm and a whole different story tapped out on the glowing white page. Now I’m more than 20,000 words in, and I’ve got some good stuff, lots of not so good, and a dash of hope that it’ll all shake out right in the end.
Yesterday was Nano break day. Michelle and I joined another friend and took a day trip to the Temecula wine country. We stopped at The South Coast Winery. Unfortunately I forgot my camera so no picture of the Tuscan villa design of the winery amid its vineyards. At the tasting bar I enjoyed several wines that I’d never had before, and bought a bottle of Old Vine Zinfandel–berry-rich, a bit spicy–absolutely delicious. Of the wines I tasted that one made me dance a jig. Thought of having a glass of that when I get home will surely ease the irritation of the nightly zombie run.
Then we scooted up the road a ways to the Temecula Olive Oil Company where I stocked up on olive oil goodies. Last night’s dinner was a salad of mixed greens with thin circles of leeks and tomato crescents drizzled with California Balsamico and Roasted Garlic Reserve olive oils. Some crusty Italian bread would’ve been nice, but I didn’t have any. Dessert–a glass of that zinfandel, and I managed to confine myself to just one.
The break was wonderful; today I’ve got to catch up with the words, but first a trip to the Sunday farmer’s market at the marina ’cause that green salad was the end of my edibles. It’s bright white winter light outside this morning and the air’s snappish so I’m dressing warmly for those snippy breezes at the marina.
