Monday, 24 November 2014

On Target And Yet Not

I've now exceeded the word requirement of NaNoWriMo, having now written 50 991 words.  Rather romantically I thought, Sarada also passed the 50 000 word mark today.  Clearly it is still possible for us to do things together, provided we do them separately.

For what it's worth, this has now become the longest single continuous piece of text I've ever written unless you count my diary, which has been continuous since 1978 and is therefore colossal.

I suppose a few reflections on the process might be in order here.  One is that the story isn't finished.  The end has been written, as has the start, but there are still several crucial scenes missing, and also little bits which should glue it all together.  After that, there may be plot holes.  I also want to add appendices, one of which I've already written.

One thing I've learnt about myself in the process of doing this is that dialogue gets easier to write and description harder when I'm relaxed, and the opposite happens when I'm stressed.  I connect this to a tendency towards mutism in my family.

I am currently feeling quite calm, although also befuddled.  The countdown towards the clinic appointment is now underway and my task is not to overthink.  I am also trying to avoid undue influence of any kind because I need to be me when I go in there and not a version of me I'm trying to be for anyone else.  When it comes down to it, there are layers and layers of stuff between me and the nub of who I was as a small child, just as there are for anyone else, and also like anyone else I am the journey, but there's also the question of authenticity.  I'm currently of the opinion, or perhaps I could venture to say I've now come to the conclusion, that to me thinking of myself as male is equivalent to low self-esteem and the reason I've maintained it is a self-destructive tendency.  I might even go so far as to say that not transitioning for me is a form of self-harm, and the fact that a lot of damage is now irreversible is similar to the way in which my head banging self-harm as a young person has now led to problems with memory and concentration.  "Testosterone" is damage.

How do I get from here to where I need to be?  I don't know.

NaNo is at least distracting me from the thoughts I need not to elaborate excessively upon in the next fortnight.  Unsurprisingly, relevant thoughts have wormed their way into the book itself.  I haven't sorted out the front cover yet either.

I'm sure I've said this before, but there is now no way I will go back on presenting as female.  It has made such a positive difference to my life that reneging on it is just unthinkable.

A small to-do list:

  • Finish NaNoWriMo properly.  Right now I am past my target but I need to put the whole lot together into a coherent whole.
  • Make a couple more tweaks to my presentation - proper earrings and some kind of attention to eyebrows, more progress on voice.
Well, I did say small.