Day 4

I'm not that far just yet. I *really* hope to get a lot done this weekend. I'm only at 715 words, but I think I'll write a little more later this evening. Here's what I wrote yesterday and thus far today:


"Greggers, Nadia". Now it can’t be long. She had been waiting for this moment for so long, or is it her mother? She don’t remember any longer. It had always been her mother making her do this, and she couldn’t disappoint her now. Not when she’s dead. The only person who would have helped her through this. Dead! Gone! Will never return. She died too soon. That stupid accident. Why did it happen? Why did she have to go there?
"Hanson, Pernille". The others look so perfect. She’s sure of not being picked. She has so many scars. That’s not a good thing. But they don’t understand. They can’t. It’s too terrible to be understood. She feels everyone’s looking at her. It annoys her. Why can’t they look the other way? She knows she’s not the most pretty girl in the room. They don’t have to tell her. No they are not telling her, but they thinks it. It’s what their eyes tells her. Or is it just her imagination? Her mother always told her how beautiful she was, but she’s gone. She can’t tell her any longer. She think she’s fat, although she know it’s not true. The doctors tells her she should gain weight, but she can’t. She’ll be too fat, too big for this. To big for her dream to come true. But again, is it her’s or her mother’s dream? You can’t really say. For far too long her mother’s dream was her dream.
"Harrison, Jenny". Only two more to go. She had always loved being on the stage. Performing. Dancing. But a thing she loved even more was singing, but her mother never really understood. Always the ballet. Never stopping. Always the same moves over and over again, till she did them perfect. Life hadn’t been too easy. Who has ever said, that life was easy? Not her mother. She told that whatever you wanted to get, you had to fight for it to get it. No matter how hard that seemed. If you didn’t you would never get anywhere in life.
"Jones, Hope". Ballet. Her life. Her mother’s life, not really her’s. Though she liked dancing, it wasn’t that. Not at all. It was just that her mother pushed her. Even when she was too tired to carry on. "Dance my dear. Dance!" Even when she almost fainted because of the pain. "If you can’t handle the pain you will never become something great with the ballet!" "But mum, I can’t. I’ve been dancing for 5 hours now, can’t I just take a small break." They were looking again. Why is it, that they had to look at her? Those primadonna’s, not a single pound too much on their body, she on the other hand was too big, in her own eyes. She just had to take off a few more pounds and it all would be perfect. Or would it? wasn’t it what she had said 10 pounds ago? Always the same thoughts. Why can’t they stop. They were killing her.

(word count: 508)

Ok, someone has asked me if it would be easier for me to start writing in Danish and then trancelate it to english. My answer will be "no!" I would feel like doing twice as much work. And when I write I don't trancelate. I'm thinking english, when I use the english language. It would just slow the prosses even more, if I had to trancelate form Danish to English. Actually I often find, that there are words I can't find in the Danish lanuage, but I can find them in the english. Don't ask me why it's like that, because I seriously don't know... not really. I have a theory, that it's because I've always watched english movies and lately begun to read evenmore english, but I can't be sure about it.
The same person has asked me "what has happened to her mom?" I don't know yet! This is all Sami has wanted to tell me yet. It's her story, I'm just writing what she tells me to write. Maybe it was a traffic accident. Maybe she got murderet on her way somewhere. I don't know yet.
But I do know a little bit of Sami's story. What had happened to her. But that will come later in the story. Don't worry. That's what the story is about. I will say, that one of the things I myself has expirienced on my own body, and it's not a pleasant thing (or else there wouldn't be a story, right!?)

Well, I'm off to see if I'm able to write a little more...

In the beginning there was... nothing...

...Then Sami startet to tell me some of her story. Now it's past midnight at day 2... actually it's the 3rd nov, and I've just got started. The reaon: problems going away my boyfriend! (oh, I already missed him when I got on the train) We live so far away from each other... Bah... enough of my "I miss boyfriend, I wish he was here"(Well I do!)
Ok. I've just sad down and written about one paragraf... the first for my story(finaly) And I hope it's fine, 'cause I'm NOT remaking it... it has to work. But like I said; It's not me, but Sami who tells the story. I'm just dictating it... tells what Sami tells me. Well here it is... The first paragraf:


Thoughts
Chapter 1 a
She sat in the hall, waiting for her turn to go on stage to show her abilities. That she hadn’t lost the spirit. But it was hard. Now that everything came back to her. She had used her whole life trying to forget. Trying to remove the mental pain, by forcing herself to feel physical pain, not the mental one, that can’t go away. She wish it was possible, but it’s not. The pain will always haunt her as a ghost. Never leave her with a single moment in peace. She wasn’t the only one waiting people had been in line. Some even got here the day before she had overheard someone say. "You can never come too early, but if you don’t get there in time, it might be too late, and you won’t get the part!" It’s strange, that’s exactly what her mother had told her. Never letting her decide what she wanted. Always what her mother wanted. She had nothing to say. And nothing she wanted to say. At the time! So many things to be unsaid. So many terrible things to be unsaid. Never alone. Not even when no one was in the room. Always the thoughts haunting her. Never leaving her alone.

(word count: 207)

I will be happy, if you would give your oppinion about it.

*Stop these voises from my head*

I mean it... They make me want to start early *I won't do you hear me!* Well it's my MC trying to tell me something about herself, and giving me ideas how the story should go. I've made notes about it but today she's just been talking too much for me to follow it all (and I hadn't pen and paper where I was) so I didn't get all of it, but I got twice as much(or even more) than she let me know the last week.
She has finally told me her name: Samantha. Sami for short. She does the balet and occationally a musical(I think). At one point she told me her life was a dream but today she broke down and told me a lot of bad things had happened to her, amongst other things that she had(or has I didn't get) a violent boyfriend. She revealed to me, some scars she had done herself.
Who knows Maybe she really is going to give me 50.000 words... I sertanly hopes so, because it will be hard for me to write new caracters into the story, but if needed I'll try my best (if Sami'll let me).
I have a cool idea (from myself, not Sami) about how to use my poem (not the one from my prev post) and it means that I won't just trancelate it, but re-write it and add stanzas to it. As the poem is now it has only one stanza, but I had re-written it once though I can't find that one right now(hopefully I will, because it will do well at the end of my story).

I guess that's it for today

Well, I was looking through some of my old poems, because I know that at least one of them would be great for my story... though I had to trancelate it, because I think I'm going to write in english and my mother language is danish so most of my poems are danish.
Anyway, I came across my latest, and one of the best I think. And I thought I wanted to share it with you guys (whoever you are) And you're welcome to comment on it.

Life and death
Dream or reality
Truth or myth
Meaning of life
Meaning of death
What is it?

Eternal is our surch
Is life and death the same?
Truth of life
Truth of death
Where is it?

We lives as we've learned
Lives in teh world
Lives from the world
Thinking "we shal not die
The doctors are capable"...

Capable yes...
Supernatural... forget it
Reality of life
Truth of death
A dream ... a myth

Originally this poem is danish, but I think it works just at fine in english, but please give your oppinion about it.

Introduction

ARGH... What am I doing... I'm not the best writer, why have I made myself do this... WHY!?
I don't really know, and to be hounest, I really don't care that much... or, mayby I know, and I care... I want to write. Not just any story, but tell something about my life. Not telling directly... I want to put my thoughts on another caracter, make it more distant for me, so that I won't alwais go with those thoughts. It's good to get them out those feelings, these thoughts.
Of cause that won't be the whole story, no, not at all. Just part of it. But the main-caracter Will remind a lot about me, I'm shure, at least the first part of the story... the "past" part of the story. But! I don't know if I will be able to write it the way I want to. I need to fight with feelings I've long forgotten, or trying to convince myself to have forgotten. Hwo knows, maybe I'll get a breakdown. But hey, it has to be bad, before it can be good, right!?

Hey! I'm writing all this, and don't even introduse myself... how rude of me! well, ok. Here it come:
My name is Birgitte, I live in Denmark... the small country some people think is the capital of eather Norway or Sweden(It's not!). I'm 22 years old, and unempoyed at the moment. Planning on going to school next year, to become teacher. Meanwhile I think I'm going to try this challenge. Not quite shure how it will go.. it IS my first year...
And it's always nice to know who's riting, so you'll get the first, and only, pic on this blog, just so you have an idea who's writing:


I have some more blogs, If you like, you can go check them out... they are about one of my passions: Sims 2...


Link tho the official NaNoWriMo-page: http://www.nanowrimo.org/