Dear Keyboard,
Yes I am aware of the fact that Fireblood has a blog post with the exact same post title as this post does. Wow. trippy grammar. But yes. I accepted this deathly challenge as well.
NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. During the 30 days of the month of November, participants of NaNo attempt to write 50,000 words of novel. That's approximately 1,667 words per day.
I, of course, did not stay consistent with this guideline . I wrote about 800 words everyday. On November 29, I had ~27k words. On November 30, 11:59pm, I had 50,063 words.
Insanity?
I had two classes at my school that day. Yes, the Stanford Online High school. Stanford University=THE best university, therefore Stanford Online High School=THE best high school. #OHSpride. and #randomhashtagsoutsideofTwitter. But I digress. I had two classes there, as well as a fitness test at my local junior college, and mind you, I gained 2% body fat. That does not sound weird at all. But while I was listening to my classmates ramble about dominant and recessive genes as they scribbled out Punnett squares on the Centra whiteboard, and our teacher advising us to make fools of ourselves on the webcam, and lining up behind 40 rowdy college students who were all waiting to have their blood pressure and resting heart rate measured, I was spewing out a nonexistent plotline, passing thousand mark after thousand mark. I think I had about 33k by the time the morning was over.
I passed the 35k word mark and realized that I had a Chinese pop quiz to study for. But never mind that, I wrote on. I'm not sure what grade I got on that quiz yet, but throughout the whole thing I was thinking about my two main characters chilling out in a saloon that my imagination had sketched on the blankness known as writer's block.
I came home from Chinese class, and I can't write about much more after that. A lot of it is blurred into a flurry of pressuring myself to write 2-3k words per hour, being booted out of skype groups by people who claimed that they loved me and just wanted me to write in my novel and stop chatting everyone, screaming at my characters to start helping the synthesis of a plot, my characters yelling something about not being little puppets of my creation, and my screaming that they really were ... it was a wonderful evening.
And I *DID* make 50,000 words. Sure, I wrote like half of those words on the very last day of November, but I made it! Traumatic experience as it was....I cannot wait until next November =)
Sorry for all the beating you had to go through as I slammed my novel out on your precious little keys. You're a resilient ol' pal, Keyboard. ♥
Love from the dearest,
Fether
P.S. what do you mean you're still dusty? I dusted you over the weekend! You ungrateful little board of keys! Curse your high-maintenance status!
