"The leaves on that tree were very yellow this year, especially against the blue and because so many had blown off that it was a beautiful interplay of yellow and blue."

11/09/13 11:20 am.This would be another experiment with writing thought the wrimoer. She would try doing some writing on her prepaid mobil device using her web email. It would mean that each section would be limited in word count because of the device's limitations. She did not remember what the limits were. The device would let her know by refusing to take any more typing. Then, if she had not finished her thought, she would have to go back through to find chaff so that she could squeeze in the end of her thought. Just now she was falling asleep again. She would be lucky if she got to finish one little section or email. That morning she had again decided not to go thru with the project, even though she had at last gotten caught up the night before. So she had been looking up articles on why doing the Nano project was a bad idea. Of all the reasons not to do it, all of which she agreed with, there had only been one reason for it, and that had almost
 convinced her - it was fun. She'd felt that way the 1st year.
11:34 am

11/09/13 1:20p

The wrimoer had tried another method to get started on the day's writing quota. She had used her prepaid mobile device and written a small section of writing in her web email. She had thought perhaps doing it in little sections like that which could be done from anywhere, could make the whole process seem less daunting. This was a good theory.

It turned out that it was physically too hard to write on that small device for the amount of time one needed to complete the quota. But at least she had primed the pump by just doing that little bit. It had not required any set-up. She could feel a bit of accomplishment towards the quota, thus leaving that much less still needing to be done. And that had given her an emotional boost that helped her in getting ready for the day all so that she could get back to the writing.

She still did not know what to write about. For now it was only about spitting out words - in digital format. What was the meaning of that? The implication of writing in digital format was that it was a format to be shared at some level or at least available for others to read. It meant that she intended to put it somewhere that it could be found for others to read. Or at least that was part of the implications of it.

One could also be writing digitally because it was faster, because it took up less storage space. Another reason one wrote digitally was that one could edit supposedly easily. Why would one want to edit unless one was preparing a writing for reading by another?

She thought she preferred writing in longhand. Because of the difference in voice for the Nano project, she felt an aversion to writing in that voice in her longhand journals. She wanted to keep the two separate. It was already odd enough to hear herself thinking in the 3rd person, observing her thoughts and whatever was coming up in the mundane minute to minute affairs of the day running a continuing commentary in the 3rd person.
1:36p

This early afternoon she looked up through the brightly sunfilled southern bay window where she had settled herself to do the writing and noticed how much blue sky was showing through the tree across the way. The leaves on that tree were very yellow this year, especially against the blue and because so many had blown off that it was a beautiful interplay of yellow and blue.

And then she looked out of the left hand panel of the window and startled. From that vantage, only one main trunk branch showed. It was quite vertical with a curve at the bottom where it connected to the main trunk, which was not visible. In this position for a moment it looked like a huge hose, pipe, or snake that was suddenly fallen or reaching down from nowhere. It just had not made sense as part of the tree. It had shocked her momentarily, until she realized what it was.

But she had just been playing that exercise or game of looking at patterns and seeing what one could see in them. She was looking at a cloth of French Country floral patterns that covered a heap of stuff in her bedroom. She was seeing all sorts of animal faces in the flowers. The centers of the flowers were so much like eyes. Almost every flower in the pattern had an animal head around it.

This was why humans had to learn to see a object or being as its own identity in whatever position it was in. Ir was why the students had a hard time drawing. In drawing one had to be able to see shapes, to see additional meanings in things. And that was mind boggling.

1:53P.

She had thought she might try writing some of the points she remembered from her morning's reading of all the reasons why one should not do the Nanowrimo challenge.  That could refuel her argument against doing it. She had been trying to remember why it had been so important to do the last time around. She wanted to get at the essence of what had been so important for her about it. She wanted to be able to transfer that process to art making. Maybe it could not be transferred. Maybe it was unique to writing.

She had been so relieved when the challenge was fulfilled that first time around. She had barely been able to wait till it was over. But then when it was over she had nothing to take its place. She only felt as if she had written something that she would not go back in to edit or read, or so she thought. She had been to exhausted from the effort to be willing to look at it again. She did not really want to put it where anyone could find it. It could be found but one had to know where to look. The reason for that was not because she thought it was no good, but more because she had said things in there that others might be able to find themselves in. Though names were not mentioned, the stories were.
2:05p

She was losing steam again. She did not want to have to remember the points of why Nanowrimo was not a good idea in the view of these other writers.
It could be something to write about. Perhaps just remember four points you read there, she thought.
   
But stopping to try to remember would stop the flow of words. and the point of this challenge was to write without stopping, at least, as much as possible. If one were telling a story to an audience, even an audience of one, one had to keep telling it, to keep making it up. One could not stop to think. That was one reason she did not feel she was a good story teller. She liked to stop to think.

She was reaching the end of her ability to go on. She had gone round and round with this now several times over. She did not want to do this anymore.

She had thought she might be able to get to the library that day. It was so cold and windy though and she was on foot. Her car was out of commission. She had heard third hand that the car was irrepairable. This was going to be quite a challenge. She did not like wearing the trench coat she wore in winter over her heavy sweaters to break the wind. She did not like cloth outer wear. It did not move with one the way knitwear did. But knit wear always let in the wind. Cloth wear felt like a sausage casing though. She hated it. Today was a day she would have to relent and put on that coat if she intended to get to the library.

She did not need to go to the library for her writing, since it was looking as if she would be done with that. It was a way to get out and be around other people for a little while. She also wanted to check with one of the librarians on a matter, that had seemed to be unresolved for almost a week now.

2:19p

Could she check her word count yet? No, she had to write for 72 minutes she had decided. That seemed to be the amount of time it took her to do the writing quota. She did have that little extra cushion of the writing she had done by web mail. She had also been including any of her social media comments that she thought were of any consequence.

A friend whom she had just been thinking of, thinking that they had not visited in quite awhile, had left a phone message earlier. It seemed their family would be back to celebrating Thanksgiving as they used to in years past. Did she want to join them again? She thought she would. Her last two Thanksgivings she had found herself very glad to stay at home by herself. The first one alone, she had spent almost the whole day in that peaceful atmosphere so unique to a holiday that everyone is celebrating writing for her Nano challenge. The second year alone she had bought a small turkey and roasted it. It had not thawed in time for a normal roasting time though. It was not until 11:30 at night that it had finished cooking. But what a turkey. It had been perhaps 15 years since she had roasted a turkey or perhaps any bird. She had not forgotten how. This was the best turkey she had had in that many years.
2:28p

What other way around this writing could she find? She wanted aspects of it but not this huge chunk of time that so cut into her day at the cost of so much else. It kept her from so much, even though it was satisfying in other ways.
2:30p 1539 words

She should have known better. She had not written the full 72 minutes required to meet the daily quota. Any little interruptions like stopping to set up the writing as a document in the other software, interfered with the time. She needed an alarm perhaps so that she chould write uninterruptedly. It seemed like such an inorganic way to go about creating though.

She would have to consider how to get out of this endeavor what she wanted. It was so hard to give up participating with others in it. It was hard to give up being able to say one had done it, or one was doing it, or I can do that, or I've already proven that.

One had so many choices in everything. She always found it hard to decide things. She found it hard knowing what she wanted to do, because it was so ingrained in her to consider what was the 'best choice'. This pervaded the whole culture of the day. One could hardly help falling for it. One did it without realizing one was doing it. She believed that kind of view spoiled a lot for herself and for everyone.

2:41p 1791 words 81 minutes, c. 22 wpm

1999 words after adding the yahoo mail section - so that st phone can only handle about 200 words or ? characters. and the wpm rate is c.14!