Slice 331 of 365
I am currently writing at a kick off party at the college for National Novel Writing Month (there is much irony in that). Becca was invited by her English teacher. I’m trying to to just stay invisible in a corner. No new people, especially writers.
The boys have done this event before. Becca wants to try. I’m not sure where she will find the time. I’ve never done it. It’s kind of an interesting challenge, and at the same time it kind of seems like just a novelty for people who say things like, “I should write a book.”
It starts on Sunday, November first. The goal is to write fifty thousand words. The average novel is about eighty thousand words, but who’s counting.
I haven’t written for a while, lack of time, lack of desire, the new job (I put the “pro” in procrastination) whatever my issues. I think I was around thirty-five thousand or so on the sequel to Jersey Justice. So, another fifty thousand would come close to finishing it most likely. I actually came up with an ending this week for the third one, which will wrap up everything, quite nicely I think.
There is a small part of me that wants to try and write the 1,667 words a day to meet the November goal. But I know what will probably happen. I’ll start out gangbusters on Sunday and maybe Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday will be OK, then it will start to become a drag and slowly collect the stench of failure as the words come to a screeching halt. Then it’s the cliff. The cliff is bad.
Maybe if I wrote about a cliff it would screw with the universe a little. The universe definitely needs a wake up kick in the ass.
I’m not sure if I will do it or not. I will decide on Sunday.
I just may not tell anybody. So, the usual.