Note to self: Never attempt NaNoWriMo when working full time, devoting three nights a week to conversation classes, and getting sick half-way through.
I almost didn't make it this year. The last three times, I was able to reach the goal three days early and only come out of it with stomach pains (from the coffee) and sprained wrists. This year was tough, man. Tough.
That said, I'm going to go celebrate by going to bed. November is for writing, and December is for sleeping, and I'm going to go ahead and start my December early.
... Shame that the story still isn't finished, despite reaching the goal. I'll type in the rest of the bare-bones ending in the morning.
Once again... Woo-hoo! I won! I shall now flash the badge and head to bed!
So, the novel, at least the first draft of it, is finished. The plot lasted all 50,000 words, and I didn't even need to add a semi-random, completely senseless sex scene somewhere in the middle there. Which is good, because I can't write smut. It always comes out wrong somehow.
I really do wish I wove in some more magical realism than I did, but not explaining some things would have meant sacrificing more words than I was willing to lose during NaNoWriMo. That would just have to be something I'll put in (or take out, as it were) when I start editing it in February or something.
I also wish I went into the back stories I thought up in October, like the one for Natalia (dame in today's half-finished sketch) and her 'brother' Pablo. It was a neat sidestory, too, but it never came into play. Oh well. Maybe if I decide to write a sequel next year.
I also wish I wrote the main love interest better, or, at least, colder and more asshole-like. I mean, that was who he was supposed to have been, but by the end, he comes off more of a secondary character.
Maybe that was his fate, to be regulated to second-class status.
Right, November's over. Back to fanfiction, I guess.
I don't know why I'm nervous. I've done this twice already. My first year, I started five, ten days late and I still reached my goal in time. My second was wretched, but I continued and did my best and reached the 50,000 word mark with a few days to spare.
So why am I so worried now? Anticipation?
I feel as if I'm standing before a pitch-black land, unsure if the the next step will be on unseen solid ground or will lead me into an abyss that will swallow me whole.
In a few hours, I will be able to begin writing... キャ~ッ！
NaNoWriMo is just under a week away, and I'm actually almost excited about it this year. Last year, the story I wrote bored me before I even made it halfway through. Characters kept changing sexual preferences, all these twists demanded to be added into the plot, and the bad guy simply refused to show himself.
This year, thank God, I have a better idea as to what is going on in the story I even have a nefarious villian with underlings and everything. Mind you, I was rather inspired by Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore, so if, for some fucking bizarre reason, incest and some sort of Oedipus/Electra complex is added to the story, I would like to say it's not my fault. It's Mr. Murakami's and possibly the lack of sleep.
This post's picture is a half-finished doodle of Harry Potter in the snow. Years ago, I made jokes at the expense of Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy slash fan artists. So, isn't it ironic that I now spend quite a bit of my free time doodling Harry and Professor Snape in compromising situations? Ironic and a tad disturbing, if you ask me.