National Novel Writing Month - Day #1

The first day of NANO has gone surprisingly well.  I downloaded the free version of Scrivener they're promoting and organized all of last year's notes.  This took a little bit of time to learn how to use the system and then get everything set up.  I still have some fine tuning to do when I get home later.

Even with this additional set of tasks on the first day of NANO, I was still able to add about 2,000 to my draft from last year.  I was very much surprised at how much research had gone into the rough draft last year and at how much I'd forgotten in the mean time.

I am determined to focus on Milady's backstory this go round but I'm finding that very difficult right now.  There are so many options to explain why she behaves the way she does in the original novel.  Not to mention I could completely rewrite her actions and not keep as close to the original.  I mean it is an alternate point of view after all, shouldn't it truly all be from her perspective where she's the good guy?

Weight Watchers - Day#1

Daily Points:32/30
Daily Calories: 1,338/1500
Weight: 215.7lbs
Age: 36.66 years

Starting with Weight Watchers again.  Last time I was not as committed to losing weight so, even though I've had my greatest success with WW, I did not achieve my goals.  I have to remember the 50 pounds I lost when I first joined and how I was so motivated to get to my goal.  I was 28 and didn't want to be overweight at 30.  I did so well keeping it off until I went back to school and the job got more stressful.  Now, I want to be in a healthy place when I'm ready to have a kid and I don't want to be overweight at 40.  So I need to hold onto that motivation - or at the very least, I need to track everyday regardless of whether it's good or bad.

I need to consider that I might be attempting to do too much this month with starting weight watchers right before the holidays AND National Novel Writing Month.  But so far, I'm feeling positive about the experience.  Estimated my dinner points and discovered I have more than half to use at lunch time.  I've scheduled a work out time with a co-worker for tomorrow and we're committing to going at least twice a week.  Last time I only focused on changing eating habits and not on working out.  So that is also another item on my plate that could prove to be overwhelming.

Overall, I am pleased with my first day even though I dipped into my weekly points a little bit.  When I compare it with calories, I am definitely below the goal I'd set My Fitness Pal.  I'm curious to see how points compare to calories but have the feeling I'll find tracking in two apps tedious.

20th Anniversary of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Twenty years ago today, the world was introduced to one of the most amazing pieces of fiction.  My life since Harry Potter was first published has been one of constant denial.  For starters, I refused to read the books when they were first being published.  I am not the kind of person who likes to be caught up in a mania and, at the time, the idea of adults bewitched by children's literature seemed absurd to me.  Then, when I finally did cave in and submit to the incredible phenomenon that was

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (or the Sorcerer's Stone in the States), I refused to accept that I would be sorted into Hufflepuff.  Didn't I have the heart of a Gryffindor after all?

My first refusal was quickly overturned when my retail establishment started carrying Harry Potter merchandise and I was hopelessly lost in trying to up-sell items to my customers.  I was able to fake it for a while, but I knew I would have to read at least one of the books if I wanted to continue to be successful in my job.  I decided to read only one book and, as fate would have it, a child had left behind their copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.  After a few weeks, when no one came back to claim the book, I decided to borrow it. . . for research purposes only.  Once read, I couldn't believe I'd waited three years to discover this magical world and quickly devoured all the other available titles.  Like so many others, I anxiously awaited the release of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and then I shushed those who would spoil the secrets it held.  For a self-proclaimed literary nerd, it was an exciting time.

My second refusal has been much longer in resolving itself.  For 17 years, I've taken every possible fan-made test available in a attempt to be sorted into a different house.  Then in 2012, I received the definitive sorting on Pottermore and grudgingly realized that I was and would always be a Hufflepuff but I never accepted it in my heart of hearts.  To me, the Hufflepuff seemed the weakest of the houses without any majorly defining characteristics.  You have to admit that the sorting hat song - Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot and treat them just the same." - sounds an awful lot like being picked last in gym class.  

But as I have grown into adulthood, I've come to realize that Hufflepuff is actually one of the strongest houses.  It's incredibly easy to pick friends or sides when the world is seen in definite terms -  Ravenclaw wants the smartest people, Slytherin the most ambitious, and Gryffindor the bravest.   The real difficulty is in seeing that the world cannot be clearly defined and that there are multiple points of view for almost every issue.  Navigating these waters where dedication, loyalty, and fair play are valued above all else is incredibly treacherous.   It's also extremely tiresome and draining on an individual.  For not only is the world a muddled mess but one can see that everyone's opinion has value.  Whether you agree with that value or not is a different story. 

Camp NaNoWriMo Week#1

On most Sundays, Milady went to a local Church and offered up her prayers to a silent God.  It was not for herself that she maintained her childhood ritual, for she knew she had been lost long ago to that glittering afterlife.  Somewhere on the grounds of a convent, in a far flung corner of France, there was a grave stone that bore the name of Madeleine de Caumont.  She did not have to see it to know that it was cut from the finest granite that was available in Bearn or even that there was no other ornamentation, save the cross, above the letters.  Her parents would have provided the cost of the funeral and may have even attended, but only the old priest knew for sure if the grave lay empty or if, as Milady expected, a nameless pauper was there in her stead.  After all, he was always economical if nothing else.  The only truth on that piece of rock would be the spelling of her real name and the date of her birth.

No matter the doubts that crowded her mind about the ancient mythology of the Church, she could not stop herself from praying on the Sabbath for the soul of her lost child.  On the off chance that all the priests’ lessons were true, she could not risk abandoning her innocent angel to an eternity of waiting.  Whether her soul had gone to purgatory or had been winked out of existence with the child’s last breath there was never a reason to pay homage to that tiny stone in the corner of the yard.  For Milady it was only the small body of her child under the ground. 

Did her mother talk to the air and imagine that somehow her earthbound words could be heard just as Milady often did for her own child?  She often thought of her parents and wondered if they went to visit her at the false grave.  Did her mother pray for the soul of her daughter in purgatory and pay the indulgences to the church for her child’s speedy release into heaven?  If this were true, did the old priest feel the weight of his own guilt when he received her purse?

Perhaps her own mother’s wasted efforts could count toward her unknown granddaughter.  Perhaps, her mother prayed for the baby too.  Knowing the torment she had felt over a daughter she had only held for a day, she could only imagine what her mother felt over the loss of a sixteen year old daughter.  But Milady imagined that the shame surrounding her premarital circumstances were enough for her mother to be glad she could not torment them any longer even if it meant the loss of her companionship.

If the old priest had not offered her an escape from that shame, what would have become of her?  Milady was never meant to live a penitent life and a finite existence within the walls of a nunnery.  The daily routine and silence would have driven Milady insane even now in the maturity of her years.  The priest had had enough experience with novitiates to recognize when a woman was not meant for the cloistered life.   He had also worked with the Cardinal long enough to know the type of personalities he would readily employee for his clandestine affairs.  Of course, all of this was irrelevant now and she only entertained these thoughts when her own earnest prayers had concluded well in advance of the minister’s.

Milady’s first real mission after entering the Cardinal’s service was to seduce and marry the Comte de la Fere.  His lands and influence in the south of France were very important to the Cardinal in the preparation for war against their neighbor, Spain.  She was to use her feminine wiles to sway the Comte in support of the Cardinal and his scheme against the Queen.  If that failed, her instructions were to provide an heir who could be easily controlled after the untimely death of his father until he reached his maturity. 

To Milady, there could be no simpler task.  Men often responded very well to her and with all she had learned under the Cardinal’s tutelage she set off for Sauveterre-de-Béarn with a confidence that could not be shaken.  Indeed, Milady was successful in her attempts and she was soon wed to the Comte de la Fere.   What she had not accounted for in all her careful planning was that she might fall under the Comte’s spell in return.

He was a young man of about 22, just come into his inheritance, and confident as the day is long.  Armand, for that was his Christian name, had untidy brown hair that always found a way to hang directly in his line of vision.  He was often seen brushing it away from his dark brown eyes only to have it fall back into the exact same spot.  He was lithe and quick with the sword – a superior opponent for anyone willing to challenge him.  A great horseman on top of that would have been enough to make him an excellent soldier, but his fortune served as a buffer to those realities and he had not been called on to defend his King’s name. 

Her husband was never sympathetic to the Cardinal’s schemes let alone one against her majesty Queen Anne.  His lands were part of her territories and he refused to betray this great lady to such a villain as the Cardinal.  His description of the Cardinal had stung Milady at first.  For the Cardinal had given her everything she’d ever wanted and it was difficult for her to see him in a negative light.  The Cardinal’s interests were those of France after all.  No matter what angle she tried, she was unable to convince her husband that these schemes were worth his support.

Her attempts had become more desperate when she realized she was pregnant with Armand’s child.  She had hoped for more time to work with him before such an event but their passion for one another had escalated the situation beyond her control.  She had not yet felt the quickening but she knew that a child had begun to grow in her womb.  Her symptoms had been the same as before, but there was no doubting them this time.  Milady again found her pregnancy bittersweet but not because of her husband’s reaction.  Where her last lover had seen it as a burden she alone must endure, her husband had arranged a picnic by the Gave d'Oloron to celebrate.

They had arrived by the water’s edge around midday and everything had been prearranged by his servants who were now conveniently absent.  They ate their meal of cold pheasant and cheese with freshly picked figs.  When they were done, Armand presented her with a box.  Inside was one of the most gorgeous rings she had ever seen.  It was an old family heirloom, he had said, it had belonged to his mother and it was the most precious thing he owned that he could give to her.  He wanted her to wear it from now on because, with the birth of their first child, she would be the one carrying his family name forward into the next generation.  In doing this, she was giving him the most precious gift he could imagine.

She had thrown her arms around him and they’d tumbled over the empty basket and down the grassy hill a short way.  She had kissed him deeply for all of the things that he had said and for being so different from any other man she had ever known.  They made love by the river and spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms dreaming of their future together.  It was only when the sun began to wane in the sky above that he called for the servants to pack up the remains of their meal and take it back to the chateau. 

Even with everything that would come to pass, Milady could think back on this afternoon with pleasure.  She would disconnect it from the man Armand had since become in her mind and pretend that the beautiful future they had dreamed together was still possible somewhere.  Though the man he proved himself to be had destroyed all of those possibilities.

The Cardinal had not been pleased with her husband’s refusal to acquiesce to his plan but he had been very pleased with Milady when he had learned of her pregnancy.  In the Cardinal’s mind his servant was carrying out his contingency plan.  In truth, Milady was trying to find a way out of the Cardinal’s snare.

It was not long after their romantic picnic that Milady and Armand decided to take a ride through his country estate.  They had visited with a few of the farmers to discuss the current growth season.  Milady goaded her horse into a run with her husband not far behind and soon they were racing towards home.  It was then that tragedy struck the young couple and the Comte de la Fere’s true nature had been revealed to her.

Milady’s horse had been spooked by something in the road and reared up throwing her to the ground.  She was knocked unconscious in the fall and he husband had raced to her side in a panic.  His first concern was for her and he cut the lacing from her corset without a second thought.  The child, he knew, could not have survived the fall and he had to make sure that she survived.  It was as he was trying to revive her that he noticed the fleur de lis branded on her shoulder.  How had he not seen it before, he wondered.  In all of their love making together, how had it been obscured from him.  He rubbed the mark with his thumb to be sure and there was no doubt left in his mind that it was real.

When Milady came to a few minutes later, the look on her husband’s face was enough for her blood to run cold.  She pulled her dress back up on to her shoulder’s and realized what he must have seen in her unconsciousness.  His face was red with rage and he shook her so hard she thought her head would fall from her shoulders.

“Armand,” she had pleaded, “you do not understand.”

“I understand,” he shot back, “that my wife, MY WIFE, has lied to me about who she really is.”  

“It is complicated,” she began again.

“No, it’s really not.  Everything that you have ever said to me has been false.”

“No, not everything,” tears ran down Milady’s face, “I do love you.” 

“SILENCE,” he screamed, “I will not allow you to persist in this lie.”  While she had been unconscious, the Comte had been to his horse to retrieve a length of rope.  It had been fashioned into a noose and looped around the nearest tree.  When Milady saw it she began to fight back with a ferocity her husband had not known was even possible.  She kicked his legs out from under him so that he fell flat on his back. She was up and scrambling to make purchase with the ground when the Comte de La Fere grabbed ahold of Milady by the roots of her hair.  He pulled her in this fashion to the side of the road nearest the tree.

“Mercy,” she gasped.  “Mercy, my lord.”

“Did you show mercy to your victim?  To the one that earned you that brand?”

“Mercy, please I beg of you,” she pleaded, “If our love meant anything to you, please have mercy.”

“It meant everything to me but your intentions are clearly known. How long did I have until I was your next victim?”  He pulled her close to his face and stared into her eyes trying to penetrate her very soul.  He found what he knew would be there, that knowledge that he had been marked for death long before they’d met.  “Would I have lived long enough to see my child?”

“I was going to find a way,” fresh tears sprang from her eyes and all of her fight disappeared.   “I would never have hurt you!”

“It is my duty to see that your sentence is carried out and no one else suffers at your hands.”  He placed the rope around her neck and pulled it tight.

Crawling back to the Cardinal had been easy after that.  When the man you loved hangs you from a tree and leaves you for dead, it is easy to believe that all men are treacherous and deserve whatever end they meet.  The Cardinal has sent his best assassins after that and the hole in her heart served as a reminder to never be that foolish again.

Weight Loss V.2 2017

In February, my doctor called my bluff and said he wanted to see me in six months to check on my weight loss goals.  It was definitely the kick in the pants I needed to start taking my 2017 new year's goal of "be healthier" seriously.  I spent about two weeks trying to track and watch my macro nutrients on My Fitness Pal.  This is an excellent app and I will definitely use it again in the future but I just didn't have the will power to manage calories and watch the fat, sugars, sodium, etc.

So two weeks ago, I took advantage of the Weight Watchers online sale and used some of my work bonus to sign up for 3 months.  I have been more conscious of tracking and the items I'm tracking since I started back.  There have been a few changes - the 0 point smoothies I used to love now have to be calculated differently - but so far it's been an easier transition than I remembered from my first membership in 2010.

The website itself has lost some functionality but still covers the basic necessities.  I don't find it as easy to research a particular restaurant or view my list of favorites when making last minute decisions.  But having to plan a little more in advance forces me to make better decisions in the long run. On the positive side, they put a lot of effort into making sure the online customers get the same support one would in a face to face meeting.  So I am confident that this will be the extra bit I need to be successful.

Camp NaNoWriMo - April 2017

I'm preparing for another marathon session of writing in April.  I want to go back to the novel I started in November and push through to complete  a rough draft.  This means I need to:

• Complete temporary dialogue I used as a place holder
• Develop a minor story-line for one of the supporting characters
• Develop more of Milady's backstory - possibly a stand alone novel?
• Figure out Milady's actions in England - possibly a stand alone novel?
• Make major decisions about Kitty and her relationship with Milady.  Is she friend or foe?

I've selected to write another 50,000 words in 30 days.  Yet again I am both scared and excited to take on this task.

36th Birthday

I've meant to be better about writing this year and so far I've failed miserably - both here and in my personal journal.  Though I've started to Bullet Journal in place of my traditional planner and that has captured the other 10% of the space I'd use in my personal journal.  There are a number of other goals that I have yet to begin, but I need to remember that it is only February and there are 10 other months left in the year.

My mother has been able to successfully start on one of her major goals - decluttering - and I could not resist asking her to send me a few of her old pattern books.  I thought they might be useful items to sell in my Etsy shop and I am, therefore, considering it an investment in the future and not adding to my own clutter that desperately needs to be culled.

In the last six months, I cannot help but think of my mother and what she was like at my age.  As a child you always have a limited understanding of your parents as people and it's only when you begin to live your own life that you wonder about theirs.  I have found myself in the local art store coveting some of the fancier supplies they sell and wishing I had a dedicating space to work on projects.  And then I remember the art corner my mother once had in our basement and all the amazing things she stored there.

Did she want to be an artist?  Meaning a professional or semi-professional one that was able to create art that could be sold in coffee shops and local boutiques?  I remember her sewing, cross stitching, and designing so many different things when I was younger.  Had she ever considered working in a creative field like graphic design, cartooning, painting, or screen printing?

I always felt that my mother was this incredibly talented woman who could make anything.  When I talk to her now, she will demur and say that she's not that good at x, y, or z thing when I know she is.  She'll ask me to create things for her, that I know she could easily do herself, but for some reason she doesn't have the confidence that she could.   I didn't develop my talents in a vacuum, they were learned from watching her or listening to her talk about her projects.  So I wonder what happened between 36 and 65 to bring her to that point where she doubts her own abilities.

If I could go back in time, and meet my mother as a peer, what kind of person would she be?  Would I be able to inspire her to follow some deeply hidden dream?  What will I wish I had done now when I'm 65?

2016 in Review

There are so many reasons that 2016 should have been one of the best years of my life and perhaps, years from now, when I look back on it it will be.  But with 2016 quickly coming to a close, I honestly feel like I won't be sorry to see it end.

At the beginning of the year, I graduated from Business School and finally took the sister trip we've been dreaming about for years.   At the end of the year, my sister was able to marry her girlfriend in one of the best ceremonies I've seen in a long time.  I was even able to finish the rough draft of a very promising novel during National Novel Writing Month.  But it was around November things started to take a nose dive and they haven't been able to recover at all.

There is the obvious disappointment, for a registered Democrat, in November.  But the fallout of that event and the friendships that have been strained have left me anything but Thankful in November.  And now, in December, my mother's car has been stolen.  Which makes it extremely difficult to feel goodwill towards men at a time when it is most needed.

Then there are the personal disappointments.  I interviewed for a job that ticks off all of my needs for a career in Accounting.  The interview went well and they actually offered me the position.  Unfortunately, I had to decline because of the pay rate.  No matter how I tried, I could not work my budget to accept a $10K pay cut to switch careers.  My own car needing some extensive repair work was a painful reminder that I cannot accept less than my current salary.

And I don't think that my potential career growth in my current company will be enough to allow me to start a family.  At 35, this is a major concern for me and I'm desperately trying not to get freaked out about the shrinking window of time before the biological clock goes off and I can't hit snooze on it anymore.

I have many things I want to accomplish before I have kids, but I don't know how it will all fit in with my current financial situation.  Which is not to say that kids and my plans are mutually exclusive, kids are actually part of that plan, it's just going to be a lot more difficult to make it all work the way I'd like it to.