November the first marks the first day of my very first nanowrimo! (well, I did attempt the camp, but failed miserably at a total word count of about 2,700) It's a writing "competition" where one misfit attempts to write 50, 000 words of a brand new novel between November 1st - November 30th.
So between exams, assignments and this disgusting new cold I've just procured for myself - seemed like a fantastic idea!
I've actually been looking forward to this for months. I've hit a block. It's why I haven't blogged in months. That, and the fact that I'm incessantly lazy, use words I don't understand (like incessantly) and nobody reads anyway.
There. Little miserable rant out there. GAAHAHHRHAGHRGHRGA. The whole point of the month, I think, is just to get out and write, regardless of how suckish your prose ends up being. Quantity over quality (wow, now that's a new spin on it).
So. I has 102 words so far. What are they about? Oh, I'm so glad you asked!
....well. A bench, a lake and a pine-wall.
The website is loading really, really slowly so now I've decided to take out all my angst on me innocent blog.
Not being the most competitive of people, it's nice to actually have a motivating goal in mind. I DO want to win! It'll be nice. Just like jam doughnuts with tea and and coffee and cake.
[I forgot what I was going to say...]
Well. Anyway. Hmmmprh. Hummmm. This isn't much of a post at all, but meh. One of the recurring ideas I keep reading on the nanowrimo forums is "There is no backspace key."
Thus, I'd better stick tape over it and jam it with sticky jam.
Thank you for listening. Students, please listen to your teachers.
And yes, year elevens. You WILL be stacking the chairs after assembly. There, there.
*1:07pm: Hurray! Yay! Banay! At 1,692 words, I've met my daily word quota!
You can track that little blue bar here: http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/participants/oblongmcwicket
and if anyone else is participating, let me know! I'm so lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely without writing buddies.
and here is the least offensive (literarirly speaking) excerpt I can find from today:
These four ladies and gentlemen call themselves Tara, Jason, Oscar and Abigail. Together they have three recurring names of endearment for me: Ivy, Ives and Ive-dawg. Because we all enjoy being associated with climbing bean-like vines and the hives and nothing is cooler than tacking gangster sounding suffixes to everything and anything. Look-shizzle, shawty, I got me a fine dog, dawg.
“Flip, that’s not soup again, is it?” asks Jason incredulously, taking the soup from me and sloshing it around and sniffing it to make sure it really is soup. He says “flip” a lot. I don’t understand. If I flipped his sentence, it would say: “?ti si, niaga puos ton s’taht, pilF.” While I’m trying to figure out how to say this aloud, I grab my soup back and take a larger than necessary gulp.
Now... for this chemistry assignment. And the exam study. *hhhhhhhhhhhppppppmmmmahh*
