To all of us who didn't make it: what happened? What went wrong? Bask in our collective failure!
"He yanked himself free and fled to the kitchen where something huddled against the flooded windowpanes. It sighed and wept and tapped continually, and suddenly he was outside, staring in, the rain beating, the wind chilling him, and all the candle darkness inside lost."
What happened? My characters developed minds of their own and proceeded to kill eachother, resulting in thousands of blank pages and no ending.
Had I the heavens embroider'd cloths,
I would spread the cloths under your feet.
But I being poor, have only my dreams,
So tread softly, for you tread on my life.
Stop guys! It's the 24th of November! We still have 6 more days! There is no giving up and this thread should be locked or something!
Writers block? Rebelling characters? You can work with that all.... just read something else for "a breath of fresh air" and the inspiration will come.
This place is full of writers. Successful writers. I won't let my eyes see a single quitter around here. There's no words of failure or anything until December.
BUT!
Even then, I want alllllll (with extra emphasis on the L's) of you to finish your novels. We don't give up-- ever.
June
"I'd steal somebody's purse if I could google it and then download it." -- Firestarter
I have 47 000 words to write in the next six days, and I am working basically every one of those days for almost the entire day. The few hours I have left to spare have to be donated to a project. There is NO CONCEIVABLE WAY for me to be finished.
I don't mean to discourage anyone from writing; if you think you can do it, WRITE, for the love of god. Even if you don't ... write.
But this is for the people who basically have no chance whatsoever to finish their novels, unless another twenty days fall out of the sky and hit us in the head.
"He yanked himself free and fled to the kitchen where something huddled against the flooded windowpanes. It sighed and wept and tapped continually, and suddenly he was outside, staring in, the rain beating, the wind chilling him, and all the candle darkness inside lost."
"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach
Ha, I have something like 30k-35kish, and now thanksgiving and yet more homework! Yay, impending finals of DOOM! And, you know. Three papers due in two weeks, plust huge project and research proposal that requires more research than the paper will. They have killed me, and that count includes the essays I've written. Not all the writing I've done, then I may (if I"m lucky as all else) be close to 40k. But hitting 50? So not going to happen.
Oh well!
Though, if I do by some miracle, feel free to bop me over the head!
***Under the Responsibility of S.P.E.W.*** (Sadistic Perplexion of Everyone's Wits)
Medieval Lit! Come here to find out who Chaucer plagiarized and translated - and why and how it worked in the late 1300s.
I decided to do NanoWrimo, but much to my horror, the computer crashed and I had a climax of a meltdown.
When the computer had gotten fixed it was 16th of November, and of course, I couldn't break the wall of nothing, and so I was stuck up until the 20th when I got inspiration.
However, the computer seems to like my meltdowns so it decided to stop working... and it only got fixed yesterday which leaves me under a week to write 50,000 words.
Somehow, I don't think this will happen, so this year, I'm sitting back and watching while those participating melt down to little acidic puddles
“Rise like Lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number.
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you—
Ye are many—they are few.” — Mary Shelly
*cryies*
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