The story that has been in my head–simmering, stewing, roasting, emerging, ebbing, flowing–has finally found an outlet.

The good folks over at National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo, are once again sponsoring a month-long attempt to write 50,000 words in 30 days. That pace is 1,667 words per day, about four single-spaced pages. I wrote for two hours.

What is the novel about? I don’t know yet, as I haven’t written it yet. I am drawing from over ten years of adventures.

Here’s an excerpt from a kayaking adventure from the summer of 2009:

That day represented the third time I’ve kayaked. A did a little lake thingy once and I braved, with my brother-in-law, a Class III river in the Berkshires, an adventure that ended with us missing my niece’s dance recital and the Massachusetts State Patrol out looking for us.

But he knew me from my tomboy days of high school and some afterwards, and he figured that anyone who roadtrips by herself into the middle of the desert or national forest or mountains must be up for a kayak adventure in Narragansett Bay, especially with the added enticement of a subtle shipwreck just off the shore of the Warwick suburbs.

My arms are the weakest part of my body, owing to years of neglect. Mountain biking, snowboarding, and hiking make for Olive Oyl arms, not Popeye. And arms and core are at the root of kayaking. I went into the day expecting to be unable to lift my arms the following day.

Playing by the buoy in Narragansett Bay

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Right now it feels more like a memoir, I know. We’ll see where this literary journey takes me.