November 19

Nashville

The first signs of nano fatigue turned up in Nashville. It was inevitable and anticipated. Last year 28 of the 150 who signed up for nano finished. It was only the unemployed, independently wealthy, or disturbingly tenacious that made it to 50,000 words by the month's end. Last year I didn't finish, but this year I find I fall under two of the three winner profiles, and am hopeful that come December 1 I'll count myself among those visited by the nano scientists and marching band. Though I'm nervous about them all fitting into my car.

In Nashville, after a peaceful afternoon at my hotel, whose claim to fame is a guitar-shaped swimming pool, I headed over to the 12th and Porter bar. I'd already finished a beer before I picked out Nanoer Mark Orr, who said in an email to look for the guy with a Captain Kangaroo mustache. You'd be surprised how many Nashville residents fit that description.

We drank beers and I ate some pretty good pasta prima vera and we talked about our novels. Mark's is about a detective from the netherworld, who is hunting down vampires and werewolves in Nashville. Mine's about two woman both heading to El Paso, TX, but from different places and for different reasons. I thought I'd be drawing on road trip antics for inspiration, but that hasn't really happened. The novel is called Doppelganger.

I'm starting to care about my novel. I actually kind of like the characters and have urges to carefully craft their words and actions, which is of course risky and foolish of me and must be cast aside until December 1. Until then I resolve to pound out 2000 words a day, no matter how stupid the dialogue, no matter how crappy the prose. I will leave my editing, intelligent metaphors, and lovely alliterations for the 11 months of the year that are not November.