I made it through week two, barely. I am proud of the fact that I trundled along, writing every day. Every damn day. Even when it was just for a wee bit. And there were more than a few days like that this past week. Nonetheless, I am almost halfway through the month, admittedly behind in my word count, but happy that I am now officially on vacation for a week, sure to catch up during my break.
It is like this, November. Life goes on and for me anyway, it is important that NaNo fits into my life, not the other way around. I write amongst work deadlines, birthday parties, gossipy pints with friends and my day to day routine of dog walks, coffee with the girls and reading. The house right now smells deliciously of the carrot cake I baked for a family dinner tonight. I'll not get much writing in until I get home, but that is ok. This is my version of a writing life.
I have one thing going for me and my story. I finally figured out how the whole thing ends. Although a few background characters seem intent on worming their way to the forefront of the story, I think I know how it will all turn out. It is twistier than I originally planned. I like that.
Almost halfway through November, my stats look like this:
Coffees drank: 43
Most wince worthy cliché written: and now, without further ado…
Hours spent writing: 42
Deaths/Murders: one severed hand found… what do you think?
Best line so far: He was chucked out; no discussion; placed firmly outside their life as one puts garbage by the curb for weekly pick up.
Chocolates consumed: 53
Most time squandery distraction: the appearance of Star Trek characters in a smokey jazz club
Take out ordered: 3
Words written: 13,721
Characters introduced: 13 of 13
Favourite word written: apropos
Social / family functions attended: one (see the aforementioned jazz club)
Motivation level (scale of one to ten): a slightly over confident 7
About Me
- muhbuh
- If who we are is what we do, then like most people, I am a mixed bag of personas. Writer, bookworm, friend, are what first come to mind. Equally apt would be potty mouth, dog walker, Guinness drinker, swimmer, storyteller, political animal, baker and proud Canadian. Mostly though, I consider myself simply insanely lucky to have a small posse of near and dear ones who put up with me and my curvy, creative, curly haired, opinionated self. I started this blog several years ago with the idea to challenge myself in a myriad of ways. Years in, despite the sporadic entries, I still like to muse about the absurdity of life, what inspires surprises and angers me, books and other entertainments, my menagerie, my travels and any other notion buzzing round in my head.
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