Yes, as of Thursday, Nov. 1, it is time once again for NaNoWriMo, aka National Novel Writing Month.
I did it last year. And by did it, I mean, I Did. It. I rocked that thing. I “won”. I wrote me a novel. It pretty much sucked. But it was such a feeling of accomplishment, unlike anything I’d felt in a while.
I haven’t looked at that novel since I finished it last November. There may actually be parts of it that don’t totally suck. Actually, I think my first paragraph is pretty good. I have it printed out and hanging over my desk.
So I’ve signed up to do it again. Problem? It starts in four hours and I still haven’t decided what to write about.
My original intent was to take last year’s novel, scrap most of the plot, rework some characters, change the setting, keep the premise, and start it all over. I still may do it, but it’s sounding depressing. There is enough depressing stuff out there. I just don’t know if I can be happy and funny and enjoyable for 50,000 consecutive words, know what I mean?
Anyway, wish me luck, and if I’m not blogging as much for the next month you’ll know why. Though I said pretty much the same thing last year, and then kept blogging away.
Maybe I should write about a passel of children who lose their mother to the computer.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello in much, much less than 50,000 words.
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