27710 / 50000 words. 55% done!

I'm back up to date, although wondering what the hell was I thinking. You know, in general.

Chapter XVI: Choice One

( There are graduations of agony. The Survivor found herself in a lower one, as the shadows that had been feeding on her retreated as much as they could. She was left standing at the center of a circle of nightmares, her body whole again. There was still pain, of course. The shadows couldn't be seen without pain, their nearness alone poisoning the blood. And they were in their world. It was a place not meant for humans. Just the way light behaved seemed to exclude the concept of peace.Collapse )

8640 / 50000 words. 17% done!

I finally got some time to come back to NaNoWriMo. I'm sure the Gang of Four (not their real group name) are thrilled.


CHAPTER V: The Hour of Lead

( You wake up every morning convinced that it's possible. It has to be. If you made the thing, you can make it manageable. Set up some control mechanisms, moderate the infectiousness, add a self-destruct of sorts, and you'll have on your hands the finest biological weapon ever created and, more importantly, whatever amount of money you'd care to ask. You are thinking a cool billion. It's not too much — no reason to be greedy — but still enough to be taken seriously.Collapse )

30 days. 50,000 words. No outline, characters, or setting.

Logic is canceled until further notice.

Vaguely, of course. Not to the point of having an outline, and only two placeholder (sort-of) characters, but it might be enough to get me going come November 1st. Yay.

Dear __marcelo,

Well, you did it. You've gone and pledged your November to the pursuit of the month-long novel. Whether this is your first or eleventh NaNoWriMo, we're thrilled to have you writing with us.

I've tried a couple of times before, and dropped off fairly quickly. Let's see if old age has strengthened my commitment to sustained masochism.

ETA: Also, new writing icon. It's from Planetary #9, "Planet Fiction," although not as badass as razorsmile's selection from the same comic.

No way in hell I'm going to find the time to write 1,700 words a day, even disregarding the problem of coming up with them (which on itself is a problem; all the ideas I believe in are for short stories, and the ideas for novel-length stories feel phony; I think I just don't have a novel in me right now, which is worrisome for my writerly self-image, but there you go).

Now I will go and drown my shame in tea.

Unprovided with original learning, unformed in the habits of thinking,unskilled in the arts of composition, I resolved to write a book. Edward Gibbon.

I have plot to run for maybe 2K words, no time to write this, no protagonist, no reference materials, no outline, and no realistic chance in hell of turning it into a novel, much less a decent one.

This ought to be fun.