I knew it was a mistake to sign up for NaNoWriMo this year. Particularly because this has been the busiest semester I’ve had in my entire undergraduate career. In order to finish 50,000 words by the end of the month, the recommended daily pace is to write about 1,700 words per day. Today is the 17th, so I’m supposed to be at 28,900 words.
Where am I at right now? 8,017.
I don’t even have enough time to do all of my homework, what with all the papers and quizzes and tests and board meetings and lectures and work (which I quit, but I still have to be here until next Tuesday). After all the articles on postmodernism and the stories to critique and the Faulkner papers to write, I’m left with negative creative energy. How in the hell does anyone write a novel in November, O Busiest of Months for college students?
I do have an escape strategy planned. If it gets to Nov. 30th and I’m still scrambling, I’ll just start writing stream-of-consciousness, Ginsberg-esque rants about politics. If I’m really desperate, I’ll have my characters tell pages upon pages of dead baby jokes. I may even pun, for Chrissakes. I will win this thing, dagnabbit, even if it means sacrificing the remnants of my sanity for it!
- p.s. – I feel horribly guilty, because I did have plans to do somewhat quality writing. I’m looking over what I’ve written so far, and it’s not exactly stellar. Basically I’ve disregarded everything we talked about in fiction writing class this semester. Passive voice? Check. Telling without showing? Check. Insipid dialogue left unsummarized? Check.
Oh well, c’est la vie. How else am I to pad my word count?
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