Update on my Freewrite experience thus far: Oh my gosh! Where has this been all my life? First of all, the keys sound great when I’m typing! It’s like I’m dancing with them. And not being able to go back and edit (unless I want to backspace whole sections; spoiler alert – I don’t!) frees me to keep going. Typos? No biggie. False starts? Make a quick note to yourself.

Here’s the scoop: I am saving my drafts to Google drive.. Dropbox is the other choice, I think, but that’s not an option for me because my Dropbox is stuffed, and I don’t want to upgrade or go through and get rid of multiple drafts of stuff from way back in 2013.

Then I just cut and paste to a Word document.

In a week…are you ready for this…I have written 53 pages!! No lie. Bananas! I have a deadline of 50 REVISED pages coming in hot and fast, so I’m happy to be so far ahead because now comes the finessing. (I love revision; I hate it. You know.)

Since it’s a novel, and these are the opening pages (yes, I really AM writing this novel, no false starts this time), it’s been awesome firing the editor and just writing, writing, writing with my Freewrite!

Some further thoughts on my Freewrite.

A small complaint: the shiny black cover gets smudgy, very much so. A few quick buffs with a microfiber cloth gets rid of the marks, but now I feel self-conscious knowing I’m mucking the poor thing up when I use it. (I guess it only happens when I open and/or close it, so maybe I just need to be more careful about that.)

Also, keep in mind I type way too fast when I’m not pausing to revise, so it might be from that, but I was writing yesterday, and I got this fun little buzz and I thought it was endorphins from being so happy writing (yes, I’m in that phase and not the “Can I do this?” revision stage) until I realized my hands were actually numb and my sight was a little blurry. I decided it might be time to take a break. In a few minutes, I felt fine, but I think it had something to do with blood flow due to my typing speed. So, not entirely unpleasant, but it merits paying attention to in the future, I suppose. (I did voice text Barry yesterday and tell him I would be incommunicado because I couldn’t see my phone or the computer very well. Not surprisingly, I got a phone call shortly thereafter asking me to explain myself.)

This draft of my novel, while still very loose at this point, has been so fun. It’s like a new romance, right? You’re getting to know one another. You’re on your best behavior. Your patience is at a ten. You have that mandatory “let’s talk for hours and tell me everything about yourself” night.

A character walks into a novel, says his name is James. You say, “Nice to meet you; stand over there.” You decide if his name really is James while he looks indignant. Because of course he is James. Did he not tell you so?

You hear him out. You listen to his backstory.

“Really? Then what?” you ask. Because you’re already hooked.

This novel is different for me in that it’s in third person, past. And I am alternating POV’s. And…are you ready? Some of the POV’s are from a male’s perspective. It’s fun, this head hopping.

Dirty Dancing turns 35 this year! I mean…how?! My dear, sweet, thoughtful husband accompanied me to a big screen showing last weekend. It was fun, though he swore he was drowning in the estrogen in the room. “Get a paddle, mister,” I quipped as I sucked on my Crown Royal apple slushy at the theater.

I first saw this about a year after it came out, I believe. Our high school played it during my Senior Week! I hadn’t seen it yet, because being “devout,” it wasn’t something I was supposed to see, though I was pissed not to see it. (Not that I would have said pissed; that was strong language for me, a prissy missy. Sigh.)

There’s a huge difference seeing Dirty Dancing when you’re 18, versus seeing it when you’re…not.

For one thing, this time around I really pitied Patrick Swayze’s character, Johnny. The poor guy seemed like he had the weight of the dance staff on his shoulders. He was more than a little parental, and so serious. Baby gave him the chance to lighten up, to be playful. She challenged him to stand up for himself, to go for what he wanted. They challenged one another: when she tried to keep their relationship from her father, Johnny caused her to question not only her own beliefs about people, but her father’s as well, leading to a sweet breakthrough in her relationship with her father.

While surely we all know that Baby and Johnny do not end up together, we know they are changed for the better for having met.

And then there’s the music and the dancing, which are major reasons I like the movie, too. I knew the music very well before I saw the movie, and if you know me, you know how much I love dancing! (I was so happy when at our town’s holiday gala this year someone donated money on the condition that X amount of people hit the dance floor. I looked at my “date,” a young barista friend, and said, “Shall we?” I had wanted to dance so much, but there was only one guy dancing at the time, and my hubby was playing keyboards so I couldn’t dance with my own husband. Band widowed again!

But my friend and I danced and danced, which made my night, especially when my hubby said something over the mic and I retorted “I know that’s right,” which got me high fives from all the guys on the floor. Someone put a feathered boa around my neck, and I wore it all evening.

Okay, I’m back to finish this post after a few hours spent successfully revising. I’m in the zone, and kind of want to stay in this new novel I’m writing, and yet, alas, other preoccupations call.

I did take time out to make us a late lunch, Creamy Aglio E Olio Chicken Pasta, courtesy of HelloFresh. The meal delivery service is my secret weapon for when I have a deadline. (Not a sponsored post!) Because the meals are preselected, premeasured, and come with colorful meal cards, they’re so handy. We don’t order every week, but when we have, we’ve been pretty happy.

Although for today’s meal, I doubled their laughable six ounces of pasta provided with pasta from the pantry, which meant having to doctor the cream sauce, easily enough done with butter, cheese, and extra pasta water. Hubby said it’s a winner, so I’ve made notes to myself for next time.

Oh, and I refuse to chop garlic when I’m busy, so I cheated and used jarred garlic.

The dish turned out tasty, if I do say so myself.

So yeah, after what started out as an iffy Saturday (we had a way early morning “mission of mercy” call that we heeded), it’s been a good day. Even if that mindset coach of mine has me tracking my time this week, a pesky task. Think I can get by with putting this post under the generic category “Writing? (She’s trying to help me fit in everything I want to do, and I’m struggling to find room. Hence the time tracking. I’m confident that together we’ll figure it out.)

And look what we have waiting for us when we’re done with the day’s work! Barry picked them up for us yesterday and I, for one, am looking forward to giving them a try. “Spiked with fun.” Indeed. You know, that could be a description of my mister, too. 😉

What are YOU trying to find more time for?

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