The Day After

An Open Letter to My NaNoWriMo Friends,

Congratulations to all of the winners! Wow, you guys are amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed racing with you and doing word count sprints. That was a lot of fun.

But it was also a lot of work.

The most important lesson I learned in this year’s National Novel Writing Month is that relationships with other writers are important. It’s a lonely business to face the glow of the monitor, alone, but that’s how writing gets done. It’s the before and after that can make or break us. To have someone say, c’mon, let’s go tackle 300 words in 10 minutes inspired me. To see word counts pop up in the Twitterfeed added a nice element of friendly competition that was less about competing and more about accomplishing.

I loved that. We’re all producing different things, but we’re doing it in a community. Kind of like real life outside the anonymity of social media. We’re real people living real lives away from the glow of the monitor.

Imagine what we can accomplish if we encourage each other in those other pursuits.

And to the other Nanos, like me, that came in under the 50K, well, congratulations to you, too! It’s a crazy race to finish that goal in 30 days and sometimes life gets a little in the way of meeting the word count. Let’s keep at it.

Notice that I didn’t congratulate anyone for finishing the novel. I’m careful to say word count and not finished novel because I think there are more than a few unfinished novels that have a great beginning, don’t y’all think? I do.

And then there’s that other thing: revision.

I’m going to make a note of all my writing buddies and check back in with you guys in six months. We should be done by then. Right?

Right!!!

food fail

Evidently John and I have been living rather austerely in the food department. This was brought to my attention by the kids. According to them, there is no food in the house.

Right.

Perhaps, there is no food in the house that they want to eat. You know, like wings, and chips, and cookies. They sniffed at the tasty braunschweiger. 🙂

Evidently all of yesterday’s tastiness is behind us.

(teehee. they don’t know where I hid the Oreos).

that stretch of quiet

There’s always a moment on Thanksgiving Day when suddenly, it’s absolutely quiet. It’s my favorite part of the holiday, and the moment, I think, when my heart grows three sizes at once.

In our family, Thanksgiving tends to be a pretty noisy day. For the last 22 years, there’s been a constant stream of little voices yelling and little feet running around. As each kid has moved up to the big table, little ones have come along to fill the spots. Dogs bark. Music is played. And if you know anything about Cuban families, the conversations get louder, and more animated, until everyone is speaking at once.

And then. Randomly. Silence.

You have to pay attention to see it coming because it doesn’t strike at a particular moment — it strikes on its own.

This year our Thanksgiving was simple, but lovely. Vicky stayed in California, opting to come for Christmas. We stayed at home, had some friends over for an early meal, and then settled into the rest of the day. It’s just the four of us, but there was plenty of noise. The dog barked. Music was played. Everyone spoke at once.

And then. Randomly. Silence.

It struck as I was washing dishes. The music playlist played out, and in the quiet that followed I could pick out the sounds from across the house. My husband snoring softly on the recliner, my son watching a movie, my daughter playing the guitar in another room. When I finished and turned off the water, I realized that in those brief moments Christy put away the guitar and Jonathan must have muted the movie to take a nap, too. Even the dog was asleep, and all I heard was the steady breathing of my family around me.

In that silence I found contentment.

And I am grateful, so grateful.

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