Okay, so tonight marks the end of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). If you recall, at the beginning of the month, I proclaimed that I would, in fact, complete a novel in one month.
Things didn’t really work out as planned.
This is how it happened (in a tribute to Hyperbole and a Half):
The first day, I was so excited and ready for the challenge. The sun was shinning. The birds were chirping. The writer’s muse slipped me a note with the perfect idea for a story.
After careful consideration of the amount of writing I had to do, I mapped out my time on a calendar and pinned it up on my wall.
That night same night I outlined my story by hand in my writer’s notebook. It had a title, a beginning, and a middle. I didn’t have an ending, but, according to my calendar, I didn’t have to worry about that until November 21st.
On the third day of the month I began writing. I wrote amazing words. I read some out loud to The Librarian and she actually laughed. Like a real laugh. She never laughs. Well. She never laughs at anything I say.
I became obsessed with the intro. Writing and rewriting. Drafting and deleting. Thinking and sketching. And then I did a little math. I’m not sure why. I hated math while I was in school and majored in English so I wouldn’t have to ever do it again as an adult. But, there I was, computing how many words I needed to write per day to make it to my 50,000-word goal.
And, when I finished my algorithm I realized that a.) I was a mathematical genius. and b.) I was 10,000 words behind. I did some more computing and further discovered that I needed to write 4,000 words a day to make it to the finish line. Then, after all that math, I noticed that the official NaNoWriMo website did those calculations for you.
Feeling defeated, I gave myself a few days to recover from the math I never should have performed. And then, a few days turned into a week. The week turned into two. And then there was a Lady Gaga Thanksgiving special.
I never got around to writing after that. I mean, did you see it? Who could write after that?
Tonight, however, I feel like that first day. I feel like I could sit down and type until my fingers bleed. And, c’mon, isn’t it a bigger accomplishment to write a novel in one night than in one month? I think so.
Okay, so let’s see, I need to write 45,000 words in eight hours, which means 6,000 words an hour…where’s my calculator?
3 thoughts on “Twas the night before the deadline”
Ha, ha, haaa!!! Blame it on Lady Gaga and the hours and days that took you to put together your outfit for my Bingo party… LOL! You are hilarious. Come on, I want to be the first one to read your novel, soooo dale que tu puedes!!!!!!!
xoxoxo! Thank you for your support! I can’t wait to send over a first draft. Or maybe I’ll just recite it from my balcony to all of Main Street.