Greetings! I have been super non-finishing-novel-y, and I have started SOMETHING ELSE! (NaNo 2011, anyone?) So here's what I've written. Yes, I dreamt something VERY similar to this. It happened on Saturday night. I don't remember the details very well, except it was a mix of really scary and really cool. I didn't wake up at the same point, but the scene did change at the same point. So here it is.
The enterprise began in the late afternoon. Every year near the Winter Festival, the dragon comes and terrorizes our town. It has happened for hundreds of years. Nobody really knows why, but everybody is powerless with terror to stop it.
Except for now. My friends and I have decided that enough is enough. This dragon – we do not even know his name, he’s just The Dragon – has caused enough damage, enough pain, enough suffering. Every year he comes and causes enough damage to take the rest of the year to fix, and yet he comes again the next year and destroys it all again.
Every year, he takes a few young women as well – teenage girls normally between the ages of thirteen and seventeen – to take back to his lair to either eat or torture.
My friends and I, we’re sick of being sick with terror. We have made a plan.
Early in the evening that the Dragon is destined to arrive, we all meet up at my house. Everyone – all seven or eight of us – is armed with some sort of heavy weapon. Jeremiah carries a battle axe. Samuel is armed withhis great-grandfather’s magic sword. I carry my bow, a small pouch of pine sap, and a torch in order to fight fire with fire.
Although I am the only girl in the group, that is no matter. All the boys know that I am the best shot in town.
We’re all nervous as the time ticks onward. Although we’re frustrated with the Dragon, the large beast still holds the spot of “Most Feared” in all of our hearts.
Soon we hear the normal, terrifying sounds of the Dragon’s approach – his roar, his heavy footsteps, his deep breathing. We spread out. My heart pounds.
Jeremiah, Samuel, James, and Damian are going to be the close-range fighters, while Max, Hector, and I are going to be the long-range fighters – I have my longbow with the fire; the boys have their crossbows. The sounds of the beast grow closer. The time is nearing midnight.
The screams start when the beast has reached the top of my street. I see the house of the Millers go up in flames at the top of the hill. That was Jeremiah’s house. He’d just finished rebuilding it from last year.
I stand behind the shrubs in front of my house and draw an arrow from my quiver.
The Dragon’s nearing us now, breathing heavily.
The smell of smoke from Jeremiah’s house comes down to my nose.
I dip the tip of my arrow into the pine sap and then dip it into the flame of the torch until it lights. I keep the arrow pointed downwards until I’m ready to draw the bow.
And suddenly, there’s the Dragon. He’s massive, with bright green scales and spikes all down his back and around his eyes and mouth and nostrils.
My heartbeat quickens. I’ve heard the commotion this dragon causes many times, but I’ve never actually seen the beast until now.
I draw my bow. The flames from the arrow burn my hand slightly as I take aim.
Soon the beast is near enough so that, if I plan my shot correctly, I can hit it right in the eye.
The dragon turns its head, fixing one yellow-orange eye on me. I’m paralyzed the moment our eyes meet.
And that’s when the loud beeping of my alarm clock pulled me out of my dream.
Every other night since summer break began I’ve been visited by the same dream of fighting a dragon that has been terrorizing a town. And I’ve always woken up right as I draw back my bow and meet the eyes of the beast. My feelings about it? They’re in a delicate balance – on the one hand, I’m glad I’m not about to shoot a dragon in the eye, because, even in Dreamland, that thing is absolutely petrifying. On the other hand, however, I’ve been terrorized by the dragon so much – oh yes, I meant to use the word “terrorized” – that I want to shoot it already so I can stop having dreams about killing dragons and start having dreams about eating peanuts in the Amazon and finishing my college applications.
I mean really, is it normal to have a lot of dreams about dragon-slaying? I don’t think it would be for someone my age – unless, of course, the dragon is some sort of subliminal reference to college applications and my fire arrow is a pen or something. But I doubt it.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
oh, the craziness of showbiz...
Well, I had musical rehearsal today, and I have obtained ANOTHER BIT PART! This means I now have a total of twelve entrances, and, for about half of them, I'm a different character from when I walked onstage the last time.
For example, I start out as a pickpocket. I exit and return three times as a pickpocket being chased by authorities (four entrances so far).
Then in Havana, number five is the first waiter job.
Entrances six through eight are the SECOND waiter job less than five minutes later at a different restaurant.
Number nine is where I'm ANOTHER waiter who tells Sky where Nathan isn't (at the restaurant), and number ten is me bringing him his drink.
Eleven is me being a missionary for "sit down you're rocking the boat" and, finally, number twelve is the pickpocket again for the finale.
In other words, I have perhaps the coolest bit of the musical ever.
I have a total of five character changes, which is a little less than half of my total. It's going to be horrid doing all of the costume changes so quickly (especially for Havana), but still. I'm excited. Because it's going to be awesome. Although it's going to be extremely annoying, I'm still excited.
For example, I start out as a pickpocket. I exit and return three times as a pickpocket being chased by authorities (four entrances so far).
Then in Havana, number five is the first waiter job.
Entrances six through eight are the SECOND waiter job less than five minutes later at a different restaurant.
Number nine is where I'm ANOTHER waiter who tells Sky where Nathan isn't (at the restaurant), and number ten is me bringing him his drink.
Eleven is me being a missionary for "sit down you're rocking the boat" and, finally, number twelve is the pickpocket again for the finale.
In other words, I have perhaps the coolest bit of the musical ever.
I have a total of five character changes, which is a little less than half of my total. It's going to be horrid doing all of the costume changes so quickly (especially for Havana), but still. I'm excited. Because it's going to be awesome. Although it's going to be extremely annoying, I'm still excited.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Writer's block and stuff
I'm back! And there's nothing really for me to say, due to the fact that it's only 9:38 in the morning. But whatever.
Well, except for the part where I was late ish to school this morning (I arrived at 8:22 instead of 8:20, but the teacher was kind of late as well, so it doesn't really count). And stuff. Anyway, there's nothing else of significance that's happened recently that I should tell you about, except for the fact that I finally ran out of room in the journal I was writing my NaNoWriMo novel in, so, as I didn't have anything else to write in because all the spare journals we have are at home, and I have plenty of filler paper, I continued the novel in my school binder.
But it's not going too well. I'm having a supreme lack of motivation because Tuesday was the first day I had made any forward progress in a week (or written anything at all since last Wednesday).
So I'm having writer's block.
Again.
Because I lost all motivation and rolling of the motivations and stuff.
AAAHHHH! Oh, well.
Well, except for the part where I was late ish to school this morning (I arrived at 8:22 instead of 8:20, but the teacher was kind of late as well, so it doesn't really count). And stuff. Anyway, there's nothing else of significance that's happened recently that I should tell you about, except for the fact that I finally ran out of room in the journal I was writing my NaNoWriMo novel in, so, as I didn't have anything else to write in because all the spare journals we have are at home, and I have plenty of filler paper, I continued the novel in my school binder.
But it's not going too well. I'm having a supreme lack of motivation because Tuesday was the first day I had made any forward progress in a week (or written anything at all since last Wednesday).
So I'm having writer's block.
Again.
Because I lost all motivation and rolling of the motivations and stuff.
AAAHHHH! Oh, well.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
GAAH!
Hello! Here I am again! And I've nothing really to say except REHEARSAL IS TAKING OVER MY LIFE! (And I think I might actually be sort of enjoying it). Yesterday I found out in chorus (after getting the New Rehearsal Schedule) that I have rehearsal every day this week (including Saturday) and a few days next week. And by "a few" I mean every day except Wednesday and Thursday (I think... maybe it's Friday... will have to check). Anyhoo, that's the main reason that I haven't been able to post a lot (and if I have, I've been so busy that I've forgotten about it).
ANYWAY, general poll to all ye peoples whose Winter-y Celebrations That Haven't Happened Yet That Involve Gift-Giving: am I the only one who's way behind on their Buying of Stuff To Give People? Because it feels like it. (p.s., happy Hanukkah to all our Jewish amigos! Not sure if it's too late to say it. Even though I have several Jewish friends I'm really lame and haven't asked them much about it yet...)
Okay, I'm going to go be productive now.
ANYWAY, general poll to all ye peoples whose Winter-y Celebrations That Haven't Happened Yet That Involve Gift-Giving: am I the only one who's way behind on their Buying of Stuff To Give People? Because it feels like it. (p.s., happy Hanukkah to all our Jewish amigos! Not sure if it's too late to say it. Even though I have several Jewish friends I'm really lame and haven't asked them much about it yet...)
Okay, I'm going to go be productive now.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A bit
I chose not to do the ten-page option, but one of the little bits that I had to do instead was to type up one of the scenes. So here's one. YAY!
King Shakkan, like all over-confident kings, had long believed that the only creatures that could penetrate his hideaway were the ones that lived and worked there, and, like his fellow over-confident kings, had not bothered to listen to the warnings that the guards had been trying to give him and had chosen to throw a one-man party instead.
These choices being what they were, the group of travelers that strode into King Shakkan’s large, torch-lit throne room found the leader of the goblins in a state of complete and utter drunkenness, having raided the very last of King Acherna’s wine stores to supplement his one-man celebration of his stupidity.
Since the Goblin King had decided upon this course of action rather than one of alert defense, he was utterly surprised to see that there were five very large creatures in the throne room, and they looked too big to be goblins. In fact, that one creature on the end looked like a human with WINGS, but that couldn’t be right, could it?
“I… I am… I am… King Shakkan!” The king babbled in his drunkenness, swaying as he attempted to rise to his feet, a large bottle of wine in his hand. “What are you doin’ here?” Although he was the king of the goblins, Shakkan appeared to be just a really short human – no taller than around five feet.
“Um… you are the king of the goblins, right?” Nemesis asked uncertainly. It was kind of unnerving to see Shakkan swaying on his feet so much, so obviously out of line that it was almost pathetic to watch.
“Um… am I?” Shakkan mumbled, stumbling as he tried to stand up straight. “Oh… yeah, I s’pose I am. What can I do for you?” He took another drink from the container in his hand.
Nemesis hesitated. She wasn’t entirely sure how to say, “Well, you can start by dying, if you don’t mind. And, if it isn’t too much trouble, please sit back and relax while we do it for you,” in a polite enough that still get through to the drunk king’s brain and stay in there.
“We’re here to kill you, sorry,” Kaibom said, before Nemesis had figured out how to say it to him nicely.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Nem corrected.
“Wait, there’s another way of putting it?” Kaibom asked in surprise.
Before Nem could reply, the drunken king wondered, “Kill me? Why’d’ya wanna kill me?”
“Well, there’s the fact that –” Nemesis began, but the king cut her off.
“I DON’T WANNA DIE!” he wailed. “I’m not ready to – I’m too young to die!”
“You’ve been around for three thousand years, Shakkan,” Nemesis said.
“I have no sons!” Shakkan wailed. “No heirs! Who will watch this place when I die! NOBODY! That’s who! Why must you do this to me?”
“Shakkan, you’re drunk,” Nemesis told him sadly. However, Shakkan was too busy wailing about how he couldn’t die just yet to listen, going onto his knees in desperation.
Finally, Zazan was the one who decided that enough was enough. Striding forward, he gave Shakkan a hard backhand slap on the face, adding to it a little malicious electric shock that nevertheless brought Shakkan to his senses a bit more. Shakkan stopped wailing and clutched the hand-shaped burn on his face.
“For your information, Shakkan,” Nemesis said, striding forward, her mind made up, “There are more than a few people who have been monitoring your behavior for the last three thousand years, and they think it’s time that your power was removed.” She drew Fenn, her Aerian blade.
Something ticked in Shakkan’s head. Aerian blade.. girl... prophecy... stars...
Before Shakkan had entirely put the pieces together in his mind, his life had been snuffed out in a stab right through the heart.
It was the first time that Nemesis had ever killed anything in cold blood, the first time she had spoken to one of her foes in such a calm manner before taking their life.
She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she gathered herself and looked at the two guards standing on either side of the throne. “Stay here and die, or take the knowledge of this death to your grave and leave at once,” she told them, her face pale and deadpan.
The goblins, terrified at what had just occurred, chose to run, though they were not entirely sure that they would not have preferred to die immediately more.
King Shakkan, like all over-confident kings, had long believed that the only creatures that could penetrate his hideaway were the ones that lived and worked there, and, like his fellow over-confident kings, had not bothered to listen to the warnings that the guards had been trying to give him and had chosen to throw a one-man party instead.
These choices being what they were, the group of travelers that strode into King Shakkan’s large, torch-lit throne room found the leader of the goblins in a state of complete and utter drunkenness, having raided the very last of King Acherna’s wine stores to supplement his one-man celebration of his stupidity.
Since the Goblin King had decided upon this course of action rather than one of alert defense, he was utterly surprised to see that there were five very large creatures in the throne room, and they looked too big to be goblins. In fact, that one creature on the end looked like a human with WINGS, but that couldn’t be right, could it?
“I… I am… I am… King Shakkan!” The king babbled in his drunkenness, swaying as he attempted to rise to his feet, a large bottle of wine in his hand. “What are you doin’ here?” Although he was the king of the goblins, Shakkan appeared to be just a really short human – no taller than around five feet.
“Um… you are the king of the goblins, right?” Nemesis asked uncertainly. It was kind of unnerving to see Shakkan swaying on his feet so much, so obviously out of line that it was almost pathetic to watch.
“Um… am I?” Shakkan mumbled, stumbling as he tried to stand up straight. “Oh… yeah, I s’pose I am. What can I do for you?” He took another drink from the container in his hand.
Nemesis hesitated. She wasn’t entirely sure how to say, “Well, you can start by dying, if you don’t mind. And, if it isn’t too much trouble, please sit back and relax while we do it for you,” in a polite enough that still get through to the drunk king’s brain and stay in there.
“We’re here to kill you, sorry,” Kaibom said, before Nemesis had figured out how to say it to him nicely.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Nem corrected.
“Wait, there’s another way of putting it?” Kaibom asked in surprise.
Before Nem could reply, the drunken king wondered, “Kill me? Why’d’ya wanna kill me?”
“Well, there’s the fact that –” Nemesis began, but the king cut her off.
“I DON’T WANNA DIE!” he wailed. “I’m not ready to – I’m too young to die!”
“You’ve been around for three thousand years, Shakkan,” Nemesis said.
“I have no sons!” Shakkan wailed. “No heirs! Who will watch this place when I die! NOBODY! That’s who! Why must you do this to me?”
“Shakkan, you’re drunk,” Nemesis told him sadly. However, Shakkan was too busy wailing about how he couldn’t die just yet to listen, going onto his knees in desperation.
Finally, Zazan was the one who decided that enough was enough. Striding forward, he gave Shakkan a hard backhand slap on the face, adding to it a little malicious electric shock that nevertheless brought Shakkan to his senses a bit more. Shakkan stopped wailing and clutched the hand-shaped burn on his face.
“For your information, Shakkan,” Nemesis said, striding forward, her mind made up, “There are more than a few people who have been monitoring your behavior for the last three thousand years, and they think it’s time that your power was removed.” She drew Fenn, her Aerian blade.
Something ticked in Shakkan’s head. Aerian blade.. girl... prophecy... stars...
Before Shakkan had entirely put the pieces together in his mind, his life had been snuffed out in a stab right through the heart.
It was the first time that Nemesis had ever killed anything in cold blood, the first time she had spoken to one of her foes in such a calm manner before taking their life.
She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she gathered herself and looked at the two guards standing on either side of the throne. “Stay here and die, or take the knowledge of this death to your grave and leave at once,” she told them, her face pale and deadpan.
The goblins, terrified at what had just occurred, chose to run, though they were not entirely sure that they would not have preferred to die immediately more.
Monday, December 6, 2010
bleh
Well, I'm here. And I have very little to say except for "HELLO!" and "I'm really tired!"
I'll hopefully be posting some shindigs from the NaNo novel in the very near future (aka tomorrow), due to the fact that I have to submit 10 pages or something about it (i.e. cover art/ review/ summary, etc).
So that's that.
I haven't written anything new for my NaNo novel since last week. This is partially due to the fact that I have no TIME, and partially due to the fact that I'm almost out of room in the notebook I'm working in and I don't have any more room in my backpack to fit a new journal as well as everything else that goes in there. (I carry it everywhere. It has all my stuff for all my classes). SO yeah.
WHY am I tired, as I mentioned earlier? Because I woke up at 6:45. It's part of this whole thing about me walking to school and getting there on time for a change, so in order to leave the house by 8, I have to wake up 75 minutes early. So that's why I'm tired.
I'll hopefully be posting some shindigs from the NaNo novel in the very near future (aka tomorrow), due to the fact that I have to submit 10 pages or something about it (i.e. cover art/ review/ summary, etc).
So that's that.
I haven't written anything new for my NaNo novel since last week. This is partially due to the fact that I have no TIME, and partially due to the fact that I'm almost out of room in the notebook I'm working in and I don't have any more room in my backpack to fit a new journal as well as everything else that goes in there. (I carry it everywhere. It has all my stuff for all my classes). SO yeah.
WHY am I tired, as I mentioned earlier? Because I woke up at 6:45. It's part of this whole thing about me walking to school and getting there on time for a change, so in order to leave the house by 8, I have to wake up 75 minutes early. So that's why I'm tired.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Craziness
My school's drama department (at least by my standards) is really freaking good. I saw "The Laramie Project" last night, and it was AMAZING! (And I'm not just saying that because a lot of my friends were in it). I nearly cried at the end, I swear. I think it was hard for anyone NOT to at least ALMOST cry at the end, because it's so sad. The monologue by the guy's dad at the end was really good - the dad of the guy who died, I mean - was what nearly got me. That and one interview from a friend of the guy who died about a protester at the funeral and one of the trials and how she got her friends to dress as angels with really big wings to block the guy out. It was really sad but really good.
Tonight I'm going to see my friend's show - I don't know how it'll compare (mostly because it's a different show and I have no idea what her school's drama department is like).
And right now, I'm waiting for my gold award video to upload onto the other computer so I can finally start editing it - I've been putting it off a lot. And I haven't had a lot of time to work on it, anyway.
So... yeah.
Tonight I'm going to see my friend's show - I don't know how it'll compare (mostly because it's a different show and I have no idea what her school's drama department is like).
And right now, I'm waiting for my gold award video to upload onto the other computer so I can finally start editing it - I've been putting it off a lot. And I haven't had a lot of time to work on it, anyway.
So... yeah.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
For the record...
Well, for the record, just in case anyone cares (I do!), this is my 500th post. YAY!!! I didn't expect to make it this far, but here I am, writing up my 500th post, feeling slightly awed that I actually made it to 500 posts. Wow...
Anyway, in other news, I've discovered something: reading Tamora Pierce makes me think of Shyasha Rinkari. I don't know why, but reading some of her novels - especially those involving Keladry and/ or Alanna - make me think of Shya. I have no idea why. Maybe because Keladry and Alanna and Shyasha Rinkari have a lot in common or something.
Well, Keladry and Alanna don't have a troubled, 5000-year-long, romantically-disinclined, pissed-and-scarred past (I wouldn't expect that many ten-year-olds to have a 5000-year-long past to begin with, much less one that invloves being scarred, but still), but they all are kind of pissed that girls are not allowed to go into combat, and so they go into combat just to prove the doubters wrong.
And then they all kick butt and take names and make any dudes regret hurting them.
Especially Shya.
So... yeah.
YAY!
Anyway, in other news, I've discovered something: reading Tamora Pierce makes me think of Shyasha Rinkari. I don't know why, but reading some of her novels - especially those involving Keladry and/ or Alanna - make me think of Shya. I have no idea why. Maybe because Keladry and Alanna and Shyasha Rinkari have a lot in common or something.
Well, Keladry and Alanna don't have a troubled, 5000-year-long, romantically-disinclined, pissed-and-scarred past (I wouldn't expect that many ten-year-olds to have a 5000-year-long past to begin with, much less one that invloves being scarred, but still), but they all are kind of pissed that girls are not allowed to go into combat, and so they go into combat just to prove the doubters wrong.
And then they all kick butt and take names and make any dudes regret hurting them.
Especially Shya.
So... yeah.
YAY!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
What can make a hippopatomous smile?
What can make a hippo smile? Just putting this out there: I have no idea. I just wanted to put that as a post title because that song has been running through my head for about a MONTH. (regardless whether or not I was writing, auditioning, doing homework, or sleeping) Anyway, I'm kind of happy that NaNo is over, because there's far lees pressure.
There's still pressure, but it's not as intense. Now I have the smaller goal of writing 1200 words a week until the end of the year, for the whole 100 point thing for creative writing, which we aren't doing this month, I'm sorry to say. Oh, well.
Still, less pressure is good.
I hate pressure.
But I kind of like this ink tattoo that's STILL on my finger.
And I'm nearly out of room in the notebook I'm writing in, which shows LOTS of progress. YAY PROGRESS! There's still that idiotic little shindig called the ENDING that I have to do, but progress is progress is progress. And some progress is better than no progress at all. And I'm over-using the word progress right now, so I'm just going to go shut up and start doing my precalculus.
(I had rehearsal today. Turns out The Waiter shows up three times, not one. YAY!)
There's still pressure, but it's not as intense. Now I have the smaller goal of writing 1200 words a week until the end of the year, for the whole 100 point thing for creative writing, which we aren't doing this month, I'm sorry to say. Oh, well.
Still, less pressure is good.
I hate pressure.
But I kind of like this ink tattoo that's STILL on my finger.
And I'm nearly out of room in the notebook I'm writing in, which shows LOTS of progress. YAY PROGRESS! There's still that idiotic little shindig called the ENDING that I have to do, but progress is progress is progress. And some progress is better than no progress at all. And I'm over-using the word progress right now, so I'm just going to go shut up and start doing my precalculus.
(I had rehearsal today. Turns out The Waiter shows up three times, not one. YAY!)
December 1: hang on... it's December already?
Before I say anything major, let me just say this: On my own terms, yes, I did win NaNoWriMo. On the YWP's terms, I won NaNoWriMo. Based on the outlines that are posted on the NaNoWriMo website, I won NaNo.
HOWEVER, last night at around 9 pm, I decided (well, not DECIDED, more like ENDED UP) to try and cram four hour's worth of typing into a mere hour and a half. Needless to say, that didn't end well.
In fact, it didn't end at all. My typing isn't done, and I'll still have a lot of finishing to do. But the point is, the novel is closer to finished than anything that I've ever done that's had to be more than 3000 words. So TECHNICALLY I finished something. YAY!!!
I still have a lot of work to do on all of it, including writing the ending and the last three battles, but I think it should count as having 'finished' something, because I 'finished' NaNo and I 'finished' writing 50,000 words. So that's that. It wasn't verified, nor was it all typed up by the time midnight rolled around last night. So there's that.
So even though I didn't TECHNICALLY win according to the NaNo website, I actually did. Make of that what you will (I don't entirely understand it, either). HOORAY FOR WRITING!!! That's all I have to say on the matter for right now. In a few minutes I have to leave and go to class. YAY!!! (It's creative writing. Creative writing is good).
HOWEVER, last night at around 9 pm, I decided (well, not DECIDED, more like ENDED UP) to try and cram four hour's worth of typing into a mere hour and a half. Needless to say, that didn't end well.
In fact, it didn't end at all. My typing isn't done, and I'll still have a lot of finishing to do. But the point is, the novel is closer to finished than anything that I've ever done that's had to be more than 3000 words. So TECHNICALLY I finished something. YAY!!!
I still have a lot of work to do on all of it, including writing the ending and the last three battles, but I think it should count as having 'finished' something, because I 'finished' NaNo and I 'finished' writing 50,000 words. So that's that. It wasn't verified, nor was it all typed up by the time midnight rolled around last night. So there's that.
So even though I didn't TECHNICALLY win according to the NaNo website, I actually did. Make of that what you will (I don't entirely understand it, either). HOORAY FOR WRITING!!! That's all I have to say on the matter for right now. In a few minutes I have to leave and go to class. YAY!!! (It's creative writing. Creative writing is good).
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Afternoon of Sore Fingers
Well, as I was stupid and didn't email myself the updated and school-network-compatible version of the novel (which I DID create right after I had posted), I wasn't able to type at school today during my free blocks. Which means that today, in addition to doing precalc homework and AP reading and room cleaning, I'm going to be typing for HOURS. And HOURS. And HOURS. I'll only be stopping my typing, in fact, to eat, sleep, and do homework. And probably not sleep. I'll probably be replacing 'sleep' with 'watching Glee for an hour and typing during the commercial breaks, of which there are many.'
This is because I'm currently four words shy of 29000, which means I need approximately 21004 more words before midnight. This, like a lot of the endeavors that I have undertaken lately, isn't going to end well.
For all of you fellow NaNo-ers who are happen to be reading this (I bet none of you are, because at least SOME of you have to be in a similar situation to mine), good luck and godspeed. I think we'll all need it.
This is because I'm currently four words shy of 29000, which means I need approximately 21004 more words before midnight. This, like a lot of the endeavors that I have undertaken lately, isn't going to end well.
For all of you fellow NaNo-ers who are happen to be reading this (I bet none of you are, because at least SOME of you have to be in a similar situation to mine), good luck and godspeed. I think we'll all need it.
Monday, November 29, 2010
AAAHH!
For once I have nothing to say or do. Except for doing homework. And typing. And stuff. The most annoying thing that's happened so far today is that I did a LOT of typing at school and, although I hit 'save' multiple times, the progress wasn't saved. And now I've lost two hours worth of typing. AAAHHH!!!
The good part is that I've won on the Young Writer's Program's terms, and I've technically won on the Official NaNo's terms, but the Official NaNo's page can't recognize it yet because I can't verify it yet because I haven't typed fifty thousand words. Yet.
Am I making any sense here?
The point is, it's frustrating, and I should be typing my story so I can do my homework when I get back from tae kwon do, but instead I'm here ranting.
I also just saved the current version of the story in a public-school-system-network-compatible mode, so I can actually save it properly when I do a lot of typing tomorrow. And I WILL be typing a LOT tomorrow. Tomorrow is also the day that I don't have any activities in the afternoon aside from room-cleaning.
Keyboard, prepare to meet your worst nightmare.
The good part is that I've won on the Young Writer's Program's terms, and I've technically won on the Official NaNo's terms, but the Official NaNo's page can't recognize it yet because I can't verify it yet because I haven't typed fifty thousand words. Yet.
Am I making any sense here?
The point is, it's frustrating, and I should be typing my story so I can do my homework when I get back from tae kwon do, but instead I'm here ranting.
I also just saved the current version of the story in a public-school-system-network-compatible mode, so I can actually save it properly when I do a lot of typing tomorrow. And I WILL be typing a LOT tomorrow. Tomorrow is also the day that I don't have any activities in the afternoon aside from room-cleaning.
Keyboard, prepare to meet your worst nightmare.
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