I guess today is NaNo Day 12. I’ve lost track. I haven’t done consistent work, but this weekend I did some work on my anthology, wrote a sequel to a short story I’d forgotten I even wrote. All together I probably wrote more than 3000 words today, so it’s not on my novel, but at least I’m working on something.
Thanks to those of you offering encouraging words about NaNo and writing in general. For those of you who asked for sequels to a couple of stories I posted, I will let you know that I finished a draft of one sequel and started the second.
It’s not getting much easier to write. I still have to pause and think about what I want to accomplish, which is different from the way I used to write.
I’m going to start hitting open mic nights in the LA Westside probably after the new year. The funny just doesn’t come as often. I’m thinking of taking a class, get my feet wet, maybe make some contacts. I’m at a loss as to material at the moment, and will be looking into ways to kickstart the creative juices. I still have some old diaries, some essays, I’m sure there are jokes in there somewhere. Getting an infusion of funny from other funny people is probably required at this point, so the class really appeals to me. Unfortunately, I can’t afford a class right now. Maybe a book.
Bottom line everything I read says if you want to do stand up, you have to do it in front of an audience as much as you can as often as you can. See, I’m doing research. I found a great list of open mics all over LA here: http://www.lastandups.com/OpenMics.htm.
I’m debating which classes I should take and where. I even considered asking a friend of my son’s for input (he’s a pro). I re-read Steve Martin’s book and realize again I am entirely too old to start this. Then I think about all the time I’ve let myself be talked out of doing things. I think about all the waiting I’ve done. It’s never too late, in fact, maybe this is the perfect time for me. I have my maturity and natural speaking ability hidden somewhere. I have a certain amount of poise and grace, and if I need it, I carry a cane. It’s nice to have a prop. Jack Benny had his violin, I can have a cane.
I’m afraid, of course. Afraid of looking foolish in front of a bunch of strangers I will never face again? No. I’m afraid of the travel, the nights spent driving. I’m afraid my family will be sitting worried at home until I come home. I don’t relish the idea of driving all over the valley in a week. I’m afraid the gas will be too costly. It’s come down a little, but it’s still almost $4 a gallon. I’m afraid I’ve lost all my funny. Lost the ability to write funny. I’m afraid it’s too late.
I don’t expect to have an HBO Special–ever. I don’t expect to appear on TV or written up in some local paper. I don’t think I will make a lot of money. I hope though that I will entertain some people and make them laugh when they need it.