Well, Hi!
November was crazy. I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), a program set up for a bunch of crazies like me to attempt to write 50,000 words of a novel all from November1-30. To give a bit of context, the average novel that you pick up at the library is usually between 80,000 to 120,000 words, so while 50,000 words can technically be a full novel, it makes a short one. Still, this is a huge amount to write in 30 days.
And what's better, I DID IT! I had attempted NaNoWriMo in the past, but I quit early both times. I wasn't prepared for the fact that when you're shooting for quantity, the quality will inevitably suffer. When my work didn't qualify as the next great novel, I gave up.
But this time, I really gave in to the process. I vowed that no idea was too stupid, no language too un-literary. I just went for it. And ended up with a mostly-unreadable, often dragging, really cool story that I love and that I can't wait to get into a more polished form. I chose kind of an ambitious plot for my first time, lots of details, lots of stuff to figure out, so much of it still needs serious work, but HEY-
I did it! In 28 days, I might add.
And I really, really enjoyed it. I can't dispute it any longer: I'm a writer! Also, it helped that this time I had a friend who did it as well. We pushed each other through many an unmotivated moment.
Some people have asked when they can read the book (which I still can't bring myself to slap with a title). The official answer is: not for a long time. It needs three times as much work as I've already put into it before I'd let anyone look at it, and then probably that much time again before I'd call it really ready for public consumption.
However, just to give you all a taste of what my mind has been immersed in for the past month, I found an excerpt that's not too terribly embarrassing for your, erm, enjoyment? Sure, let's go with enjoyment. This is all you get until further notice.
It was dark and cold in the small space Derek clung to. He had on only the pair of underwear Steven had given him yesterday. He dared not dive back into the water for fear of being heard, but his fingers were aching. If he stayed much longer he might slip, exposing his bare flesh to the sharp edges of the cave wall. He ventured a quick look at the cut already on his thigh. It was about five inches from top to bottom, and maybe half an inch deep. Such a wound would have meant a doctor’s visit on the mainland. He cringed at the thought of submerging it in the salty water, but decided it wasn’t bad enough to keep him from swimming.
The voices were retreating and his toes screamed in pain on the tiny ledge he rested on. He couldn’t hold on anymore. Derek executed a splashless dive into the water, groaning underwater as the salt attacked his wound. With some difficulty, and more than a few muttered curses under his breath, he got the little boat off the ledge and into the water. By wedging the opposite edge of the boat under an exposed lip of rock, he managed to maneuver himself inside it without flipping it. He tried his best to ignore the bloody water streaking down his leg and paddled himself to the opposite side of the cove. Now he could stay close to the far wall as he paddled out into the open body of the lake. He couldn’t hear anyone on shore anymore, but kept himself alert to possible ambush. Paddling was slow going with the single oar as he had to alternately dip on either side, crossing it over his body with each stroke. He crept out into view of the beach. It was empty.
With a sigh, he poured his focus into paddling the small craft. From here it was perhaps half a mile to the pillar where he had first entered the lake and met Abram. From his current perspective, and perhaps just a few hundred meters past the pillar, he could see the entrance into a cove that curved around, most of it out of sight. This was surely the cove the little man had told him about.
After many minutes without incident Derek felt relaxed, aside from the cut, which had adopted an intense stinging sensation. He took a few minutes to survey the lake, which was truly a wonder, the ceiling high above producing a soft, natural light. The walls were an endless series of bubbles and ripples, icicles of rock clinging deftly to the roof. All was quiet. Serene.
The moment didn't last. Derek was surprised by a huge splash just behind him, close enough to splatter him with a cascade of droplets. He looked behind him, breaking his rhythm and losing precious momentum. Steven’s head surfaced and drew a deep breath. He had taken the mighty leap from the ceiling catwalk! Steven barely paused before he began to swim. Derek started to paddle, but knew that he could never outrun Steven in the clunky dinghy. In one fluid motion he stood and dove, beginning what was certainly the most crucial race of his life.
It's not Stephen King, but it's mine.
So, I officially get to say I "won" NaNoWriMo 2011 (which just means I got to the 50k goal. It's not a competition.). I'm a happy little duckling, and tonight my fellow winner and I are going out for celebration dessert.
