So, I just succeeded the 19th time at National Novel Writing Month!
This year, I was working on BOT NET, the second Cinnamon Frost novel. I'm writing these three books in one huge manuscript, which I successfully took from 179591 to 229911 words as of today!
This year, the combination of participating in the Night of Writing Dangerously, plus having the luxury of taking off the week of Thanksgiving to write, really pushed me over the edge:
Interesting, the hole at Thanksgiving. I wonder if that's true every year? That's not something you can readily see when you look at the yearly charts since it moves (stay tuned, these charts are going to come back later):
There was a time when almost every post about Nanowrimo I'd include an excerpt. Frankly, that's gotten harder to do as I've switched from doing Nano once per year to three times per year; the Nano material has become more inchoate as I blaze new paths out into story space, requiring more work to turn it into final material. But, occasionally, I can indeed include some material that gives you a flavor ...
“I … I gotta be honest here. I needs help.”
“Cinnamon,” Nri says gently. “I know that. I’ve had many, many students before.”
“Another damn teacher,” I rollin’ my eyes. Then I realizes—“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, you did,” Nri says, smiling sardonically. “I don’t even think that was Tourette’s.”
“It-it wasn’t,” I says. “I’m sorry, sir, but …” I grimaces. I genuinely don’t know what tone to set here. Act like Mom’s world, use Southern politeness, act like the werekindred, use growls and barks … or, maybe, just be me? Who’s that then? “I, uh, don’t, ah, know how to say this but I wasn’t tryin’ to insult you before or to butter you up now but we gots a real situation and if we leaves it up to my Mom there’s a very good chance that the D of the W. A. will spirit my boyfriend and my alt-crush off to the wilds of nowhevers, and if the elders of the werehold finds out where they are they may go and do somethin’ stupid right on the doorsteps of people totally prepared to do somethin’ stupid, so I’m guessin’ the smart thing is for the people who are smart and wizardly to do somethin’ smart and wizardly, but I can’t do this alone, because I am, like, thirteen, and why in godsname does everybody think I can do everythin?”
Nri stares, blinks, shakes his head, like he’s comin’ out of a trance.
“God, I’d wish I’d timed that,” he says. “I think you talk faster than JFK—”
“Who?” I asks.
“Nevermind," Nri says. "I’m sold.”
Ah, Cinnamon, you and your wacky hijinks. Thanks for coming into my writing life, wherever the hell you came from.
And now, on to all the things I've been putting off blogging while I've been working on Nano, including ... how to succeed at Nano! (I hope you'll agree I have some credentials in that area).
Onward, fellow adventurers!