National Novel Writing and Podcast Posting Month 2021
Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where I help you tame your inner critic and create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education. How I accomplish this is by providing you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo again this year as I did last year and you can hear those episodes here. You will be able to listen and read along to what I wrote for the day. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. It is my hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
History of NaNoWriMo and NaPodPoMo
NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month began in 1999 as a daunting but straightforward challenge: to write 50,000 words of a novel in thirty days. Now, each year on November 1, hundreds of thousands of people around the world begin to write, determined to end the month with 50,000 words of a brand new novel. They enter the month as elementary school teachers, mechanics, or stay-at-home parents. They leave novelists.
NaPodPoMo: NaPodPoMo* is a month-long event along the same vein as National Novel Writing Month aka NaNoWriMo. The difference? Well, instead of writing a 50,000-word novel, you podcast every day for 30 days from November 1st-30th. Use any platform you desire. From full production studio to iPhone app and just about anything in between. The goal is to use the challenge of podcasting daily as a form of podcasting boot camp.
The Writing So Far
13 Nov 2021 daily count 1745 cumulative count 19585
When Carl got back to the kitchen, Myra was still sitting at the table reading her book and looking at a piece of paper. She wasn’t too good at hiding it, but Carl was to far away to read what was on the paper. The smell of chicken wasn’t turning his stomach anymore, so he drank more lukewarm coffee. Carl and Myra stayed silent and listened to the jazz coming from the TV. Carl hummed a few times when he knew the song and Myra giggled softly when he did that. When the timer went off loudly and startled Carl. Myra forgot to tell him that she had set the timer for the rice she was cooking. Carl jumped and exclaimed, “What the heck was that?”
Myra ran over to him and tried to calm him down by holding him and singing softly. The song she was singing was the same song he sang to her earlier in the car. Carl’s heart slowly came back to normal as Myra’s singing got softer and softer until it finally stopped when he was back to normal.
“See the cashier was right, coffee after 10 AM makes you jittery,” said Myra.
“I guess so, that was for the rice right,” asked Carl?
“Yeah, I used to make rice all the time for, well, him. I got pretty good at it. I used cream of mushroom one time and it was delicious. Do you have any condensed soup we can use,” asked Myra?
“When I was in college, I used to do the same thing and when I had some extra money, I would get fresh mushrooms and put that in the mix with soy sauce. The cream of mushroom can is in the pantry. So, you aren’t saying your dad now, you are saying, him,” asked Carl?
“He’s not thinking about me,” said Myra.
“How do you know that it sounds to me like you are having some feelings about what happened and that is normal, but he is your dad,” said Carl.
“Dead men can’t think,” said Myra in a low gravelly voice.
“Why do you think your dad is dead,” asked Carl?
“I can’t feel him anymore. I just know he is dead, and you do too,” replied Myra matter of factly.
Carl was taken aback by her candor. It seemed like he wasn’t talking to a nine-year-old anymore. He stayed quiet for some time when he heard the front door open. It was Cheryl and she looked beat after a long day.
“Hey guys, I can smell that chicken from the hallway, smells great. I take it that’s dinner,” said Cheryl as she walked through the living room and towards the kitchen. “What’s up, why are you two so quiet,” she asked?
Carl looked at Cheryl intensely, “she knows he is dead,” Carl replied.
“Who’s dead,” Cheryl asked.
“My dad, I just don’t feel him anymore and I know he must be dead, so he is not coming back to take me to his house,” replied Myra.
“I’m so sorry Myra. Carl what do you know about this,” asked Cheryl?
“He, he is dead Myra, I just found out earlier today while we were at Nate’s house,” replied Carl. Cheryl looked at him questioningly. “I was going to talk with Cheryl about it tonight and we were going to decide the best way to approach the news. Cheryl didn’t know because I hadn’t told her yet.” Cheryl went over to Myra and held her. Tears came from Cheryl but not Myra.
“He left me, I’m not sad. He didn’t want me. I’m glad that you two have taken me in though, and that we can visit Uncle Nate whenever we want,” replied Myra.
Carl went into the living room and turned off the television. The sound of chicken cooking on the stove and Cheryl sobbing were the only noises in the apartment. Myra stood up and mixed the rice and cream of mushroom together. Cheryl looked pleadingly at Carl to do something, and he walked to the stove and flipped the chicken over and sauteed the veggies until they were done. Myra pulled out the plates and silverware and set the table as Cheryl looked on and Carl finished cooking the chicken. He took the pan off the stove and started serving the chicken and veggies on everyone’s plate. Cheryl went to the bedroom to change her clothes and freshen up. When she returned a few minutes later Carl and Myra were sitting at the table quietly talking. Cheryl grabbed a glass of water and sat down at the table to join in the conversation.
“Myra, if you want to talk about what you are feeling, we are both here for you. I haven’t lost my father, but I have lost some close relatives in the past and I know it’s not good to hold in your feelings,” said Cheryl quietly.
“I’m not sad, I’m just not feeling anything right now. I mean I was very happy at Uncle Nate’s house today and I am happy to be with both of you, I just don’t feel anything about my dad right now since he left me,” said Myra.
Cheryl and Carl looked at each other while quietly eating their food. Myra finished her plate and dropped the bones in the trash before she took her plate to the sink. Carl’s queasiness was coming back, and he didn’t finish his food. He took his plate to the sink and pulled out some plastic containers to place his leftovers in. Cheryl was the last to finish her food and she dropped her bones in the trash and put her plate in the sink.
“Do you want to talk Myra, or maybe you want to watch a movie. Your choice,” asked Carl.
“I think I’d like to watch a movie, something funny please,” said Myra.
“Any suggestions,” asked Carl to Cheryl?
“Yeah, I haven’t seen that cartoon movie with all the little guys, I forget what it’s called. That will probably give us some laughs,” said Cheryl.
“Okay, everyone grab a seat and I’ll get that up and running. Popcorn,” replied Carl?
“Naturally, you can’t take a girl to a movie and not get popcorn,” said Cheryl. Carl turned on the TV and picked the movie that Cheryl had suggested and started it. He went back to the kitchen and started to make microwave popcorn. As he waited for that to finish, he loaded up the dishwasher and set it to run overnight. Then he pulled out a large mixing bowl and when the timer went off, this time he didn’t jump and emptied the popcorn in the bowl. When he placed the bowl on the coffee table he went back to the kitchen and grabbed three cans of soda and put them in next to the popcorn. Carl saw Myra laying down with her head in Cheryl’s lap. Her eyes were half open, but they showed the tell-tale signs of a child about to drift off to sleep. Cheryl put her fingers to her mouth in a shushing motion. He carefully sat down next to Myra and Cheryl so as not to disturb. He put his arm on the back of the couch and stretched his arm, Cheryl did the same and grabbed his hand. They looked at each other from time to time during the movie and looked down at Myra to see if she was still awake. Myra occasionally grabbed some popcorn and a drink of soda from time to time, but when the movie was done, she hadn’t finished her drink. When the credits were rolling, she got up an emptied her drink n the sink.
“I’m going to bed; I’m really tired. Thank you for the movie Cheryl it was really good,” said Myra as she headed to her bedroom.
“Hey dear, if you want to talk, we are here for you, either one of us,” said Carl. “Do you want to hang out with Carmine tomorrow?”
“What time should I be up,” replied Myra?
“We would need to be out the door by 5 AM to make it there by six since she is taking Seth and Rachel to school tomorrow. I need to go into work. Cheryl what does tomorrow look like for you,” asked Carl?
“I got her, we will have a girl’s day out tomorrow and get our hair and nails done. I need to do the evening shift tomorrow night, starts at about 4 PM, can you get back here by then or pick her up at the shop,” asked Cheryl?
“I think that will work out fine, I’ll pick her up at the shop. I get out of the office by three thirty. I should be by there no later than four,” replied Carl.
“Okay, sleep in as late as you want Myra, if you need anything we will be right next door,” Cheryl said.
“Alright good night then, see you in the morning,” said Myra as she left for bed.
They waited for Myra to close the door tot eh bedroom and then gave her a few more minutes to settle in. Carl took the bowl of popcorn and sodas to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. He pointed to an empty glass while looking at Cheryl, she nodded her head yes. He put some ice cubes in both glasses and filled them up with water. The clock on the microwave said ten thirty but Carl knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep. He knew he’d need to fill Cheryl in on what Nate and Vince talked about and they would have to read the file that Vince sent. Before he sat down Cheryl stopped him.
“I think you need to get the diary out. With her father being dead, I think that qualifies as a momentous event that should be documented,” said Cheryl.
“Who gets to write in the diary, I mean, I am wondering if the curse only affects the writer and not the spouse or significant other. If that’s the case, then it should be me that writes in the diary since I am the one closest to death anyhow. Also, I have enough life insurance to take care of both of you,” said Carl.
“We are in this together, I told you that from the start. We are both going to write in the diary, go grab it,” replied Cheryl.
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