How Long Have You Been Waiting?

Pussy's in the well
Just what is that young lad diving for? Probably Black Beauty.

Oh man.
I totally forgot the elevator music to play while you were on hold, there. Sorry.

So yeah. National Novel Writing Month.

It’s kind of interesting how you choose to direct your creative endeavours, you know? You’ve told me in the past I should send off some of the posts from this bournal and try to get them published. Because I’ve clearly written at least one novel-length book if not two or three just on this bournal alone. And if you’re going, as NaNoWriMo folk are, for quantity over quality, that’s a lot of writing. And look; all writing is good for you. It’s like any activity – the more you do it, the more you train your muscles. Practice, practice, practice, right? Right.

So what does that mean? It means I’m pretty effing proud of myself that I’ve managed to get over 30,000 words written on the novel I’m writing for NaNoWriMo. It means that I’m amused to no end about how turrible this novel is, and how I don’t really care. It means that I can’t believe I’ve written 80 pages of text about the same characters, in just under three weeks. Do you know how screwed up that is? That’s pretty messed up.

The other thing I’ve discovered is that a) it really doesn’t take a lot to turn out enough stuff to write 50,000 words in a month, as long as you really don’t self-edit; and b) you start getting a little more than a little obsessy about your story when you get past the two-thirds stage.

I’m pretty sure you don’t come here just to hear about the reasons I’m not posting at the centre of the universe. In fact, “why I’m not posting” posts are probably the very worst the Internet has to offer, after cheap viagra.

i make squee noises when you tell me stuff.

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