Since tomorrow is October first, two important things will happen:
- In order to better traumatize the neighborhood children, Dylan will change out our boring, ordinary porch light bulbs for spooky purple ones.
- I’ll start outlining my seventh (!) NaNoWriMo novel.
(I think we are equally excited.)
My mother is the one who introduced me to National Novel Writing Month, so she’s the one to blame for the past six Novembers. Six years of frantic typing, meandering plots, poorly-designed covers, and antagonists who randomly disappear halfway through the novel have not yet (if you can possibly believe it) resulted in a polished, complex story that’s ripe for publication.
Here are some things that I have achieved over the course of six National Novel Writing Months:
- 302,954 words
- Two finished novels and four semi-coherent “things” that resemble stories
- Carpal tunnel
- Several classes of students who, while incredulous at first, end up finishing the competition and finding themselves remarkably proud of what they’ve accomplished
- Countless grey hairs (the kind that make me look like a witch rather than an elegant, dignified author)
But hey. Witches are kinda cool. And at least I’ll have the spooky purple light bulbs to match.