Un-Diagnosed: the Art and Craft of Living Gently

Where Have I Been? I'm Not Sure

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 16:56:00 +0000

Last post, which was quite awhile ago, I promised to contemplate and then post the aspects of my illness I regulary disown. I thought the self-honesty would be therapeutic; I hoped the list might include sights and insights into my illness which others might benefit from . One major conern is memory loss. I've had a tough fall, emotionally. I forgot about my promise here. I forgot I have a blog. I float from here to there, from activity to activity, from hour to hour and day to day. It's a more pleasant existence than I have had for years. As there are fewer and fewer reminders of what normal people's lives are like.

One thing among many that remain, because I am still more intact than not, is the desire to tell stories. So I am going to procrastinate. Don't you know? The impulse to create strikes at the same moment as the impulse to hold back.

Tired

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 13:51:00 +0000

I had a great plan on how to finish Nano with a win this week and then be done and enjoy the kids, who are all coming home for Thanksgiving. Dave looked at the plan and said (in more detail) you must be out of your mind if you think you can do this and feel OK next week. My neurofeedback doctor said, I'd rather lay you down on 485. It would be easier to put you back together. NO.

So as usual I demonstrated my typical flawless grasp of reality.

I'm now working on Plan B (thank you, Dave): resting before the kids come. That's why I'm writing to you now. Because I'm so good at this. I think I'll sign off now. If you have a magic wand, please contact me.

Nano?

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 05:04:00 +0000

At this point, unsure as to the wisdom of proceeding.

National Novel Writing Month 2010

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Sun, 31 Oct 2010 04:21:00 +0000

No photos, no artwork tonight. Probably nothing for the next month. Nanowrimo 2010 starts Monday midnight (which is Sunday night, tomorrow, very confusing).

I finally have a decent idea for a novel. I was going in on the seat of my pants. As it turns out I have at least a cafeteria tray to sled on: a far cry from a good pair of skis, but better than my bare tuckus.

And what IS this plan for this book?

Only thing it could be, Nvl 918. Seriously.

The sequel. I didn't see how to do one at all. 917's ending isn't exactly the slaughter at Elsinore Castle*, but it does end with a bang, and after that, there's not much to say. Or so I thought.

Until Beverly decided to take to her deathbed and tells us the rest of her story. It appears some time has passed. Not as much as she had hoped, but time. Time enough to tell her story, the whole story.

But . . .but . . but .. . you protest, "We never got to read 917? How can you be starting 918?"

Because, um, yeah well, um, I never filled in all the middle of 917, so you can't read it.

I am making a commitment this year to write what comes out in an hour or two. No staying up late, no stressing out, so self-imposed contests. Think Dennis Quaid in The Big Easy.

oh sorry, got lost there for a minute thinking of Dennis Quaid in The Big Easy. Then there's Dennis Quaid in The Right Stuff. . . . .Did you know he's so laid back they named quailudes after him? Yeah, it's true. Some people argued for quaidudes, but Dennis is not a dude-talkin kinda guy. You don't see him on Southpark do you? Of course not. If women had been there they'd have named them quailewds, but women are underrepresented in the sciences.

And speaking of Dennis Quaid, how many people saw him on the cover of the AARP magazine recently? (I'm not admitting to reading the thing of course. I just happened to notice it, him, it, lying around, someplace)

So I'll see you over at what's apparently become my Nano blog: nvl917, tomorrow night (you can come on Monday if you want. I have a feeling Beverly is going to have a rough day tomorrow. She's got to outline a whole novel for me. At least she's accustomed to pressure and deadlines, unlike me.

Probably no win this year. But you never know

I did not finish the book, no, but something I have learned in the last year? I should go now and install digg it and delicio.us widgets, and whatever other ones I am not cool enough to know about. That's definitely a worthwhile way to procrastinate. Maybe one of you three fans would hit the button for me.

Actually I just looked at my stats. Someone is reading this. Mostly me, because I post and catch a typo, fix it, repost, catch another typo, etc. Tonight I noticed the "don't count your own hits" button. Traffic's subsiding quickly. I do thank those, seriously, who read this. There's actually a handful of you. I applaud your good taste.

Cynthia
*thanks to the owners of the farm4 picassa website for this photo. Please check out their stuff. And guys, if this is copyrighted, let me know.

Well I spent hours last night accomplishing nothing

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Mon, 25 Oct 2010 21:53:00 +0000

the so-called studio, on a "neat" day

Good Morning!

I have to tell you about my day, because it was a typical day in I-only-blog-now-and-then land. Blogger/Google has added this new applet, I guess you would call it, or add-in (who knows the difference among these, anyway? I mean, who under 40 knows the difference?) or maybe widget, that searches your text as you write and adds hyperlinks to anything it can find a reference to, whether it is important to your post or not. So I wrote this nice little essay and on the right start appearing photographs, most of them of Salman Rushdie--for a man in hiding he sure gets his picture taken a lot--well, maybe these were taken since he has come out in public again. Regardless, the photos and links to articles I don't care about started to appear in my writing and rather than do the smart thing, which I am doing now (starting over), I tried to pick and choose what I wanted and then--heaven forgive me--arrange the page the way I wanted it. Oh my what a disaster. I can't begin to describe the ensuing chaos, and I hardly need to. Those of you who have done battle with the PC-dragon know exactly what I'm talking about, and those of you who turn around and sneak back to the village and the work you are supposed to be doing have only an inkling and the more I explain the more you will wonder, "why didn't she just stop?"
The answer is, I don't know. I never do. Not until maybe the 18th inning, although the baseball metaphor implies an equal score for both participants in order for the game to continue and this little piece of non-work would score more like website 24, Cindy 2 (I'm just giving myself 2 because I can't accept total defeat and it's my blog and I can lie if I want to).
Now I will attempt again to put up a couple of snapshots of my life, because I think a few of those reading (dear math genuises: how many is a few of a few?) actually don't know me well. There is no attempt here to say these pictures define my life. They are just what happens to be on my camera. Yes, home pix. What the internet does best.

Only the dogwoods and redbuds add an inkling of color, and here it is, October 25 already.

See their inquisitive faces? They are asking that eternal and apparently unanswerable question: "Why doesn't Blogger have word wrap?" to which I know only one answer "Wordpress," to which I know only one other answer, "No I do not want to learn a new complicated glamorous blogging program. You will have to make do with this." And if one were to take the meta view, ultimately one reaches deep into the code and finds the true answer: HTML and probably behind that, like quarks and other things with spin and charm, C++, and if I'm wrong about that it just further proves my ignorance and will also give my sons a good laugh. Forget it. In the Platonic cave of technology I'm hardly chained to the wall, but I haven't exactly left the cave either, a state which makes the shadows and the real world equally confusing. I was wrong about the dogs, by the way. They haven't a clue about any of this. They are sitting there looking expectant because I made them. Dogs are great.

No, we did not get another puppy but this 6-week-old malti-poo at a local boutique was too irresistable for Shonte and I to keep our hands off him and his siblings. Such are the little rewards I give myself after yet another doctor's appointment. These brief excursions, if I can manage them at all, are typically followed by the consumption of well-deserved sugar and/or caffeine products. This is why I am overweight. I think I deserve treats. I'm like the expectant dogs. If you were inventing the world, wouldn't you make treats a good thing and not some ridiculous fabulation like "If you really loved yourself you would reward yourself with something good for your body, like a glass of nice, fresh water. You deserve to give your body what it needs to run right."

On another recent excursion to the pet store (these are all medically prescribed, by the way. Really.), this lovely bird dug around in my delicate and expensive silk chiffon scarf without damaging it at all, just to come up with this shiny bit of cheap jewelry. We had a grand time snatching it back and forth from each other until the employees asked me to stop because I was teaching him it was okay to play with jewelry, which does not help them sell him/her.

Now that I have thoroughly entertained you (I was listening to Gypsy this morning with my iPod on shuffle and it was a most interesting experience, because I've ripped very few of my own my own albums and mostly stolen music from the kids and Dave. It keeps things lively, if not always to my liking. But Let Me Entertain You, I like that about once a year, sort of like Brussels sprouts, no, better than Brussels sprouts, but still best consumed only occasionally), I will make the big announcement, in two parts.

ONE, I am doing NaNoWriMo again this year. I suppose the working title will be Nvl918, though the blog will remain www.nvl917.blogspot.com .

TWO, it won't really be me writing it. I present you the new and improved Cindy (if she can pull it off . . . ). Laid back, non-competitive, good loser, comfortable doing mediocre work, excellent at juggling many demands at once, cares more about her family than her petty achievements (but they gave me an icon to put on my website! That was worth all the trouble, right?), cares more about the companionship of sharing the event with fellow writers than she does an all-out win. Yup, that's me. Absolutely unprepared, going in by the seat of my pants, under doctor's orders not to be methodical or editorial but just let 'er rip, gasp, I feel as though I'm climbing the upwards slope of a very steep old wooden roller coaster, and everyone knows that once you are over the hump and into November, if you aren't strapped in tight, you die.

Which brings me to another point about Nanowrimo. If you are a writer, nano'ing this year or not, and you have not discovered Write or Die, get yourself to Google and download the program. It's written by Dr. Wicked, and you can use it online or download it. I would never ever be able to write without it. (and I'm a wimp, I use Gentle Mode.)

Now the morning is past and I will attempt to post some of my art. Next to home photos, pictures of your mediocre art put on public display is something else the Internet does really well. Here I go, joining the multitudes. Thanks for reading. Now enjoy the visual portion of our show. And tune in next week to my nvl917 blog and find out how the new laid-back me is coming along at writing almost 2000 words a day.

I can't possibly catch you up

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Sat, 25 Sep 2010 13:06:00 +0000

What's been going on? Does it matter? Life is what has been going on. Already it is the end of September and I have to begin to think about whether, and how, I might do Nanowrimo this year. If I do it, it will have to be different, gentler. No race for as many words as possible.

Life has changed considerably. I am less well in some ways, and more wellin others. My world shrinks constantly. I am now taking neurofeedback to try to retrain my brain out of going into my episodes, which a few doctors think are non-epileptic seizures and more think are psychogenic pseudoseizures. I am waiting for some one to tell me why I would have a psychogenic illness. A lot of doctors, it turns out, are qualified to make that diagnosis while at the same time they are not qualified to explain it. Talking with them is entirely baffling: parallel monologues, heavily driven by our separate agendas: I want help; doctor wants to tell me I have psychiatric problems causing physical illness. This does not go over well with me, especially from strangers..

While I continue with less enthusiasm to understand what is going on, I am also, with David, working on making my very limited life as satisfying as possible. I have turned to painting and fiber arts and away from writing, which tires me. It's a right brain-left brain thing.

And I've stopped sleeping.Siging off now and hoping for a successfulweekedn.

artwork 2010

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 04:13:00 +0000

Today I start again. New beginnings.

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 13:55:00 +0000

No more blog about the mysterious Nvl917? How can it be?

I have been wrestling with how to proceed. What I am going through seems worthy of sharing. It is not (ha ha ha says a deep voice from above, or perhaps ho ho ho) what I intended to be going through now. Knowing that is part of what I'm going through.

For the moment the novel is in a box under the desk and in the back of my mind. More pressing matters steal time and energy. I would like to share some what's going on, and I would also like to keep quiet and hide under a blanket and hope that when I emerge I'll be back in Life-As-I-Wish-It-Were. In the meantime, I may keep this blog, sometimes from under the blanket, sometimes not. Sometimes I won't manage it at all. Or what I'm doing isn't really of general interest--a condition most of us suffer most of the time.

This all sounds very mysterious. It's not. I've been sick. I'm not working on the novel. I've been diagnosed and un-diagnosed repeatedly over the last two years. I've dealt with the complications of chronic illness, chronic interaction with the health care industry (traditional and alternative) and chronic interaction with the health insurance industry. Sometimes that makes for a good story: a good laugh, an interesting hypothesis, a good cry, a savage rant. So. I begin afresh.

More of the story will emerge over time. Many of the details are irrelevant, because if you are here for my thoughts, you can have them regardless of the details. My premise is that in some ways all patients, being people, are alike and some ways each is unique. We do not need to dwell on some of those uniqueness. I'm sure you'd rather not know, in fact. In many ways, however, the particulars of an individual's experience can be the pathway down which we all descend into the common human condition. If you are here because you too are sick, you will find little medical advice. I am not qualified to write such things. I can, however, write with honesty about life with a chronic illness. For me, art is a large part of that life.

This blog began as a record of my journey writing a novel. You will notice a large gap of time with no entries. Because I was not writing the book. I am still not writing the book, I don't think. I do think, though, my experiences, good and bad, might be able to help someone else.

So I am refocusing the blog. It's really about Art and Life, each of which always has its ups and downs. For everyone. I hope what I have to say applies to anyone. In my particular case I have health problems. You'll hear plenty about that. It is not, though, the illness which drives the blog. It is the act of noticing oneself pass through circumstances and the human need to share one's thoughts and experiences with others. We are communal animals. Stories and art make us human. Certainly my illness has made me more human over the years--more respectful of the challenges we face, no matter their nature.

I mention illness in the name of the blog to attract readers looking for community and information regarding chronic illness, with CFS, with mito disorders, or other health issues.. Illness in many cases is the milieu in which my life takes place, but not always. I mention art because for me and many others it is a key to so many aspects of a well-lived life. I mention gentleness, because, simply, it is often forgotten these days. We are seldom gentle with ourselves. I am a terrible offender in this regard. By so naming the blog I dare myself to remember to be gentle. And finally I mention diagnosis, because I have learned doctoring and patienting are not simple jobs.

Enjoy. Now the challenge of how to tell this story begins.

Going mobile

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 10:20:00 +0000

I am writing from my new Android phone to see if I can in fact post this way.

April BIW saved by what James Taylor calls "the threat of heavy weather."

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Sun, 18 Apr 2010 08:48:00 +0000

Well, April Book-in-a-Week is almost over, and what a struggle it's been. In an attempt to purge myself of my residual anger, shock and despair about my treatment at the hospital last summer, I attempted this week to write The Hospital Story. I might as well have tried to uproot a very large very old oak using nothing but a screwdriver and my bare hands. Perhaps I am still too close to the material and simply do not want to dredge up again the pain of a psychiatric diagnosis and the mistreatment which followed in its wake. For whatever reason, the pages were not forthcoming until yesterday, when I read that the APA is considering reclassifying Chronic Fatigue Syndrome as a psychiatric, psychogenic illness. That got my juices going. A couple of hours later I had 13 pages of protest, story, and surviving the ordeal despite the fact that I had written straight through breakfast, my medications and all.

After I give it a bit of polish, I'll post "A Discursive and Emotional Argument Against Broadening the Definition of Somataform Disorders." I wish Jonathon Swift were here to write for me. He'd have the perfect words to describe the "Chronic Fatigue Problem," and probably a clever solution as well, preferably one which involves cannibalism.

In the meantime, check it out yourself at the blog Fighting Fatigue, which in turn describes the danger to CFS patients and instructs you how to leave comments on the APA website should you feel so moved.

You'll find my post somewhat less rational than the one above. And why shouldn't it be? I'm crazy. No one reads me anyway, except for you of course.

The possibility of this coming true, which I hope is exaggerated, simply makes me crazed.

Write what you know; write what impassions you. Just a hint.

New post, new direction, new blog

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 12:15:00 +0000

It appears that with the arrival of spring and the decision not to participate in Script Frenzy, that the sleeping writer has awakened from her beauty slumber. Actually, it's been rather an ugly winter round 'bout these ways.

www.nvl917.blogspot.com will continue the turtle's pace saga of my Nano novel.

This blog, www.clcrane.com, will, one hopes with more frequency, follow the writer rather than the written. To catch you up as briefly as possible: I've been absorbed in Life of late, with little time for sharing my comtemplations. I've been living yin. Time now for a balance of yang. Among other things I have joined Book in a Week. This gentle off-shoot of National Novel Writing Month is poorly served by its invigorating title. Nonetheless, this is April's BIW week, and so I leave further explanations for later.

I have pages to write.

But quick, one more thing, before you go, (my favorite ploy used regularly against beleaguered guests anxious to escape my clutches): if you're curious about all this journaling I've been doing for the last twenty years, I am finally ready to put my toe in the water teaching some of what I've learned about what works and what doesn't and why. See (and follow!) www.openjournalling.blogspot.com and, until the discrepancy is rectified, (if I remember correctly, Twitter is down as I write this) www.twitter.com/opennotebook.

Following an absence

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 01:25:00 +0000

I have been absent, not writing, self-absorbed, and now ready to post again (tonight anyway).

A short silly poem, the original in simple calligraphy on a pastelled page:

Morning Plans

8 a.m.,

already way-laid. The best laid

plans . . .

I am a mouse

wary

distractable.

Where is that nut anyway? I put it

down to do Something.

What did I do?

(Hint: the nut is with your glasses and iPod.)

What is the word? Oh yeah, focus.

I LACK FOCUS

FROM THE MUNDANE

TO THE SUBLIME

SHINY LIGHTS ATTRACT, DISTRACT ME.

AREN'T THEY PRETTY?

That nut was the prettiest nut you ever saw.

The longer it stays lost, the prettier it gets.

THE LAW OF DISTRACTION

is a corollary to

THE LAW PROCRASTINATION

only prettier.

Come into my humble abode.

I have cheese.

Somewhere.

What were we talking about?

CLC

c 4/12/10

Snowy Saturday editing prompt #1: using point-of-view to win the hearts and minds of readers.

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 18:31:00 +0000

The following prompt was written for the Charlotte Nano Writers Chat Room, which has the world's worst word processor. Hence, it is posted here for all to share:

First writing prompt: Take a scene or a chunk of your novel and really really really check it for point-of-view consistency. For example, get rid of all those sentences (about your point-of-view character) which start, “He saw . . ., “ such as “He saw that his mother was parking out front.” Of course he saw it! If he hadn’t seen it, we wouldn’t know! If your narrator is omniscient, which is more typical of 19th century novels, then it could happen without him seeing. Then the sentence has to be, “He didn’t realize it, but his mother was parking out front that very moment.” Probably he did see it, though, so your sentence is simpler, “His mother was parking out front,” or, in first person, “Mother was parking out front.” Every time you write “He saw” you are interjecting yourself as writer and breaking contract with your reader. Get out of there!

Secondly, use point-of-view to make your scenes richer and more lifelike. By getting into the head of your point-of-view character and perceiving the world through her eyes, not yours, your writing really picks up. For example, right now my dogs are barking their heads off at a squirrel in the birdfeeder. This drives my husband nuts. I hardly hear it. What about my point-of-view characters? Yes, she would find it irritating. So add that telling detail and indirectly, by seeing through her eyes, your reader develops empathy, identification with your character, and ultimately likes the book more. A reader who cares is a good reader to have. So I might, for example, change the following, “Beverly was busy on a new project all afternoon, gradually getting more tired and grumpy, gradually making more and more mistakes until she finally had to give up for the day.” New sentence with the telling detail, the seemingly-irrelevant-atmosphere building detail, “Beverly worked on the Simpson project all afternoon. The bamburger lace would not cooperate, even after she hand-basted. By four she was weary and her nerves on edge. The dogs started to bark, at a squirrel in the feeder?, and would not let up. It was the last straw. The gown would have to wait. Beverly put it away, locked the dogs in the laundry room, and poured herself a glass of wine.” Notice that one detail leads to another? You’ve stepped into another realm of imaginary reality. Good! Hang out there for awhile and see what happens to your story.

Your tutor du jour.
Cynthia

Can't bring myself to start rereading

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 10:14:00 +0000

Today I made some progress, finally, on necessary revisions. I made a to do list (I know, Dave, stop laughing). I labeled folders ready to receive relevant information. I put them in a briefcase with one copy of the first draft, blank paper, highlighters, and pens. When I can manage to locate them, I'll add scissors, tape, and a stapler. In the research-y folders I started to ask myself questions I need answered, one per page. I opened a master document in Word and a new section in OneNote on my tablet pc and put it in the briefcase too. Well, actually, I did not do this yet, but I will, real soon. Then I will have to add these files to my virtual briefcase so I can synch them to my more powerful laptop. I copied forms from how-to-write books to fill out for each character, in addition to similar goodies which will help me keep details straight. These are in the proper folders. I thought about the fact that I have to construct a timeline with major dates of each character's backstory as well as a detailed timeline for the story itself. I am anxious to get the original outline off my whiteboard and starting over with revisions under the new, improved, post-Draft One plan. Finally, I lifted the first page of the manuscript off the pile, read it, threw my hands up in despair, took a Valium and a nap. After that I decided to become a knitwear designer. So far, so good.

Friday after NaNoWriMo

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 17:44:00 +0000

Having at long last charged across the finish line of National Novel Writing Month with an awful lot of words and a very incomplete book, I have not touched or thought about the thing all week. I am finally this morning getting around to printing it out for the first time: triple-spaced and ready for editing, it runs close to 400 pages. Just printing it is taking the better part of my day: my printer only holds about 50 sheets of paper at a time, and I am printing two copies. One copy will serve as a reference and memorial to the month. The other is ready for the red pen and scissors. And now I am finally ready to think about getting back to it.

To my dear sponsors, I finished with 1700 words or more 26 or 27 of the 30 days (I think--I counted a few days ago, and I am not going to do that again) and 500 words or more 27 or 28 of the 30 days. And just to brag, in case you missed it, I put in 10,100 words on the last day, I don't know, for the fun of it? It was only 9 pm when I finished . . . I suppose I could have kept going.

The draft is a disaster. I wrote all over the place; it is completely out of order, and I made no attempt to correct typos, which -- ah, there's the cover sheet of copy one -- are legion. I have a lot of research to do on topics ranging from quantum physics to what Homeland Security would do if a house disappeared to my favorite Edith Piaf song.

During these days of recuperation I have accomplished the following things: I guess because of my new medication, get virtually no sleep; knit a cozy for my tea mug; have appointments with my nurse, primary care doctor, gynecologist, psychotherapist; had a mammogram; and tomorrow I see the neurologist again. Next week I see the surgeon for a check-up on my port and meet with a new in-network doctor who hopefully will work with me and Dr. Speight. What this all means, I don't know yet but will post to CaringBridge if anything interesting occurs. We are hoping for the neurologist to have some insight into my insomnia. I have read over my neglected to-do list and thrown my hands up in despair, eaten almost all the Thanksgiving leftovers by myself, and learned to strum G-C-G-D on the guitar, at which I am hopelessly incompetent. I am now trying to learn the words to "Brown-Eyed Girl." However, just as I have practiced enough to come close to hitting the chords properly, I find that singing and playing simultaneously is a complete impossibility, that Van Morrisson appears thoroughly stoned and mumbly in all but the more recent films available on YouTube (and listening to an old man sing "Brown-Eyed Girl" has its own discontents), that he sings the song way too fast, and as the classic Tom Lehrer ditty, "The Folk Song Army," points out, feels perfectly entitled to add or subtract syllables from a line at random (and they still don't make sense.) At least when removing one can go yeah, yeah, yeah and sound very groovy. Cramming in extra syllables I find more challenging. Such are my ventures away from classical music into the supposedly easy stuff.

Time to reload (the printer, that is) and look again at the to-do list to see what I can put off until next week. What will it be, registering my car, practicing G-C-G-D, calling the painter, the handyman, the landscaper, tech support for my funky computer, or, just maybe, the whole shebang? I feel a sudden knit coming on, possibly even a full-blown nap. After lunch, of course. I wonder if the turkey is gone yet.

grand opening

noreply@blogger.com (C. L. Crane) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 00:07:00 +0000

Welcome to my blog, especially those who have made their way here from www.nvl917.blogspot.com. Thank you for your support during NaNoWriMo 2009, not quite finished, though I have finalized my "win." Today I made the leap into owning my own domain name. I definitely do not have the time or energy for a full website at the moment, though I am full of ideas for one. One step at a time. For now, I want to keep the momentum with the book going. So here I am, for those who care, the ongoing saga of Nvl 917 and the story of being a writer in this small, large, internet world.