The dog ate my power cord

In my entire two years of NaNo-ing, it's been my experience that there is a tipping point. I tend to move from WooHoo! I'm on fire, to Just a little behind, quickly followed by I can catch up if I just . . . Both times I've ended up at Uncle! Uncle!

This year, as I was approaching that precipice, my dog ate my power cord. I'm not sure which of the two pulled it off, but I have my suspicions. The feat took some doing, since the pups and the cord were separated by a baby gate, and the little darlings had to actually tease the cord through the little holes in the gate in order to get a good chew on. Frankly, I'm not sure I could do this were I sans opposable thumbs.

I elected not to take this a commentary on the quality of my novel. Precocious though my little canines may be, they are not literate and therefore do not get to make critiques. Besides, I hardly had any delusions about the quality of the work. I was, indeed, setting new records for "suckitude." (Many thanks to Chris Baty for all the colorful synonyms for really, really bad.)

In the end, I think it's still my inner editor that's doing me in on 30-day novel attempts. She's a sneaky broad. She doesn't attack when I'm in full writer mode, with my fingers on the keys. It's more a wordless whine in the pit of my stomach any time I think about opening that abhorrent document. I don't know what to write. It's all such crap. What do I do with it next? Can I stand another session of taking Blah to Worse?

I'm waving the white flag. Even if my pups hadn't served up an iron-clad separation from myself and my writing software, I probably wouldn't have made it to 50k this year. But, I did start the next novel that I probably wouldn't have started until the Spring without NaNo. I'm 17k ahead, in some ways. Which sounds a lot better than 33,000 short.

For my non-writing friends, if you've wondered why you've seen me step out into the light of day during the last week, now you know. It's been nice seeing you. I'm going back into my cave now. As soon as my power cord arrives - courtesy Ebay - my butt has a daily appointment with my chair. And while I'm not trying to NaNo anymore, I am pushing my limits every day. Because writing is not just a month or a quota. These are devices we use to keep ourselves psyched and sane at the same time. Writing is a way of life.

Congrats to my NaNo buddies who have already crossed the finish line or will be staying up late to finish strong. You rock!

Ohhhhhh. Now I get it.

**No Spoilers--I promise. I wouldn't do that to you**

Let's get one thing out of the way right now. Yes, I am a serious writer and a Stephenie Meyer fan. To those who say she is not a talented author, I say I only hope that one day I can suck as much as she does.

I have never been to a midnight premiere in my life. I have always been a bookworm and there has never been a movie that appealed to me enough to spend the wee hours of the morning in a movie theater. The book is always better than the movie, anyway. (That's still true; have no doubt that New Moon is way better if you're a Twi-hard who's read all the books.)

I've never wanted to go to a midnight premiere--until now. I like Harry Potter okay, but not enough to disrupt my life to see flick. I've never been into the cultish fads. I thought Rocky Horror Picture Show was bizarre and I've never liked Star Wars much. My sister is a Trekie, which mystifies me. Her feelings regarding my Twi-nerdom are mutual. So, midnight showings, I thought--why? Really? Is it worth it?

I used my eleven-year-old as an excuse to go to the midnight show, just like we all use our kids to go to waterslides and amusement parks without looking creepy and weird. I would say, "Oh, yes, I'm taking her to the premiere," and give a little eye roll as though to say I'm such an indulgent mother, I know. I would never admit out loud that I would totally go by myself. The rest of the adult women who populated most of the theater seemed completely comfortable embracing their Twi-love.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, I began to understand the appeal of the midnight premiere. It's sitting in a theater with a whole group of people who share your same crazy little obsession. They gasp when you gasp, they laugh when you laugh, and they make tiny little comments under their breath that, instead of annoying you, make you want to turn to them and say, "I know! Right?" It was just like watching a movie with 100 of my closest friends who just happened to be complete strangers.

As for an actual review/opinion, the movie did not disappoint me. I loved the richer colors, and they turned up the raw emotion. Bella and Edward seemed less like a pair of awkward of High Schoolers crushing on each other, and more like soul mates. Bella's connection with Jacob was pretty believable, and it was almost easy to believe that she could love him. That conflict wasn't quite as strong for me in the movie as in the book, but hey, I'm Team Edward, so I'm probably biased. That's right, I said it.

Maybe you have to be a Twilight fan to really enjoy New Moon. I'm too invested in these characters to be able to render an objective opinion on that. (Therein lies the proof of Stephenie Meyers' talent, but maybe that's just me. And ten million other fans.) But, if you have any desire to ever see this movie, I urge you to go see it--and soon. I'm betting people will be talking about this movie, and sooner or later someone is going to ruin it for you. I shall not be the one. I might, however, sit next to you at theater. Because New Moon will probably also be the first movie that I will actually go to the theater to see a second time.