Good Wayne

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Final NaNo Word Count: 33,784

I didn't make it.

In a short swell of delusion I did think I could make 50k for a while. But it was a mirage. A shimmering band of sliver and white on the horizon only to be met by the stark reality of so much unending desert ahead. There was too much in the way to that I should have never hoped to hit the 50k mark.

I also took 8 days off over the course of the month where not a word was written. I was surprised to see the number so high, but the log is true. Ironically, I found weekends to be the most difficult for which to find time to write. It was easy to get talked into watching a movie instead or playing a game. Too many distractions when everyone home.

On the flipside, work turned out to be one of the more productive places to write. I found an unused office where I took my lunch with my laptop and routinely churned out an average of 1200 word in just under an hour. Not too shabby, I think.

It has made me value my lunch a little more. I used to just surf the web during that time and I tended to feel that I wasted my hour doing nothing. My two best day were still at home, but the work-count has surprised me.

And that's where I'm at.

The whole thing has surprised me in a way I can't exactly say I wasn't expecting, but am still very grateful to have actually experienced. I wrote more than I've ever written on any one story. And I'm not done. My novel has miles and miles to go before it gets anywhere near the end (and, to be honest, a lot of it probably just needs to be cut - there's quite a bit of fat on this baby) but, overall, this has been a fantastic, wonderful experience. I would do this again without thinking twice (and I will!). I can't tell you how much fun I had suppressing my Inner Editor and just writing without worrying about if I was creating plot hole or being vastly inconsistent or clearly just going out of my mind. It didn't matter. And it's made me see how foolish I have been with my writing up to this point. I've labored over the construction of sentences. Making sure it sounded right, or gave the perfect verb or adjective before moving on. How ridiculous! A light has turned on in my head and I see how much more I can accomplish by putting that jerk in a straightjacket. There's a time and place for the IE and now is not that time. I can, if I choose to, actually get to the stories that float around in my head. I can churn out a draft in a shorter time than I would have expected if I stop worrying about it so much.

It is, of course, not that easy. I still lack real discipline. And the real world is very intrusive. But there's is still hope for me. I may never write anything good enough for publishing, but I'm okay with that. The way things had been going up to this point, these ideas, these stories, these complicated plots and characters were never likely to venture from outside my brain anyway. At least now, they have a shot at making it onto paper.

So thank you Chris and Company, NaNoWriMo was exactly what I needed. Even though I didn't get to the finish line, I still got so much more out of this experience.

Until next year.

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Working Title: Sethkyne_Blue
Shower Scenes: 1.25
Restaurants Visited: 2
Funky Computers: 5
Word Count Breakdown: Linky

Week 5's Crappy Novel Excerpt:

Taxi turns to me, her hands reach out and take mine. "I’m sorry."

I look at her, now her face is a series of light and dark areas. I can’t really see her eyes, but her lips are brightly lite by the lights at the front of the building. They’re nice, I think. Not too thin, not full or anything. Perfect. She’s still got a little gloss left on them, not much, but it shines against the light.

I can feel my heart beat a little faster.

"Yeah, me too."

"I," she says leaning a little closer to me, "I’m not sure what I would do with out you."

"You don’t always act like that, you know?" I say, but I can feel myself unconciously leaning her way.

"I know, I’m pretty fucked up," Taxi says.

This is stupid, I think. Or maybe I say it out loud. I don’t know, because I just know that I am waisting time.

I move that last distance between us and bring my lips to hers. Her soft lips press against mine and she twists slightly, tilting her head. My lips part and I feel Taxi in my mouth. My free hand immediately goes to her shoulder and I feel her reciproacate pulling me closer. We kiss for a minute, maybe two and then she pulls me close and hugs me best she can from the awkward positions in the front of the jeep.

"I’m really sorry," she says in my ear.

It suddenly hits me that I should be dead. That someone really is trying to kill me and that Taxi is nervous about it. There’s something in her voice, a slight waver that I feel more than hear.

And suddenly there’s a tightening in my gut and I feel myself flush. My eyes spike with tears and I clench down on my teeth to hold it back.

No, no, no, I tell myself. Do not cry.

I swallow hard and feel myself pull back from that edge.

Keep it together, I think. Save it for later.

But Taxi pulls back to look me in the eye and I can see her more clearly now. She’s only inches from my face and her big blue eyes are staring at me. They’re watery and some of her mascara has clumped to the sides.

"I can’t loose you," she says, her voice cracking.

Now I am going to loose it and fresh tears well up, distorting my vision. I feel them surging and my face feels warm, the tears feel hot as they roll down my cheeks.

"I …," she starts to say, but there’s a bright light in our faces.

We turn and it’s the van coming our way slowly, until ti pulls up beside us on Taxi’s side.

Taxi quickly composes herself and wipes the tears away while thumbing the window which rolls down slower without the engine on. I turn to look out my window so I can clear up my own face without being seen. The front of my buildng, all dark and grey with the rain. A trash barrel on it’s side some garbage spilling out the top like it’s thrwoing up on the sidewalk.

"Just follow me. As we get closer to the bridge, you should probably keep closer," I can hear Dizzy say. "If we get lucky, the sky will open up and nobody will give a shit about us."

"Right," Taxi says, and the jeep’s engine comes to life.

"Slow and steady wins the race," Dizzy says and I can hear the windows going up.

"He’s got that guys uniform on," Taxy says.

"What?" I say swinging my head back and trying to catch a look, but I only see the van moving off throught the rain covered windows.

[Excerpt Has Not Been Proofed or Edited]

posted by Evil Wayne | 11:17 PM

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