Guess What?

Much to my amazement, I did it. Even after being lazy and falling so far behind schedule. I did it.

Now I'm off for a snifter of brandy and to bask in my success. The novel is still far from finished, but as Scarlett O'Hara would say, "I'll think about that another day!"

NaNoWriMo update

Typing feverishly . . . no time for eating . . . or sleeping . . . must finish NaNoWriMo.

Admittedly, this last minute fervor is my own fault; if I had been more diligent about keeping up all along I wouldn't be in this mess right now. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel (I just hope it's not an oncoming train).

The word count stands at 45,257.

And Corbin seems to have given up. When I inquired about his word count, he growled and told me to mind my own damn business. So I think it would be a logical deduction to say that my word count exceeds his own.

Laughing maniacally on my way back to the typewriter . . .

NaNoWriMo update

I'm feverishly at work trying to catch up. There are only eight days left, and I'm only at a word count of just over 29,000. Normally this wouldn't bother me; but thanks to Corbin, this is personal. I have to hit the 50,000 mark, whether he makes it or not. I must succeed. To fail is humiliation.

I'm off to write more. No pressure, no pressure.

Corbin's NaNoWriMo

Corbin has agreed to give us a little taste of his NaNoWriMo project, albeit a VERY small taste (he has always been stingy). So enjoy the appertif:

The clear liquid sat in the sealed vial. Peaceful. Innocent. Alyami held it closer to his face . . . he studied it. He wasn’t wearing a hazard suit, but he was careful—he refused to come this far, work this hard, watch so many of his brothers die, and not see the project through to completion.

Certainly, if anything did happen to him, others could step in and continue on with the work from this point. But it was dangerous work, the work of a martyr. Anyone should be proud to die for such a worthy cause.

But he would see it to its fruition. Only then could he be at peace. He smiled and held the vial a bit more tightly . . . but not too tightly.

NaNoWriMo update

It's certainly been slow going, but that's my own fault for trying to work outside of my usual genre. The word count stands at 22,364. I'm slightly behind where I should be (halfway through the month should mean 25,000 words), but not so far behind as to be a crisis.

So here's a little excerpt (and please remember, this is all rough draft material; there's no time in NaNoWriMo for revision):

Daniel drove west. He had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do. He was driving in a daze, listening to the drone of the engine. In such a short time, he had lost his wife, his children, his home, his community, even his job. All the things that he had defined himself by were all gone with one quick stroke. His head spun at the thought that the will of one man could take it all away so easily. All he had left was a handful of cash, his pickup truck, and two garbage bags of clothes and personal items. And his rifle. He glanced over at it. He entertained the thought of going back and using it on the Prophet, but he knew that would be pointless. It wouldn’t get his life back. He would just end up going to jail. His eyes grew wide and he screeched the truck to a stop on the gravel shoulder. He sat with the engine idling, the seeds of a plan taking root. His eyes narrowed to vengeful slits as he spun the truck around, throwing up plumes of gravel. He pushed the accelerator almost to the floor, pointing the truck in the direction of the apostate town. He would reveal all. He wouldn’t be able to get his life back, but at least he would get his family back.

NaNoWriMo update

Right now, the word count stands at:

Doug's novel: 13,507

Corbin's novel: 6000 something

The progress has been phenomenal! Although the subject is completely out of my genre, the novel seems to be writing itself.

Off to write again (Good Lord, man-- it's practically an addiction). I'll be posting excerpts soon.