National Novel Writing Month.

Is anyone/has anyone taken part in NaNoWriMo? It's a website where people collect on every November to write a 50,000 word novel, 1,500ish words a day. All the details are on their website.

Your novel doesn't have to be planned, it's an exercise in spontaneity. In fact it's advised that you DON'T plan it since at that rate you'd never finish it in time. And you wouldn't want to pick a story that is dear to your heart and rush it in 30 days to meet deadline!

This is my first time doing this, I really doubt I'll follow through with it, but I might as well try. And I want to be able to say I've written a novel. ^^

So I'll just leave this here for all the writers around EC.

 

I will humiliate you to the nth degree, with n being however much (likely to be a large value) I feel like being a humiliation-grue!

Happy?

 

^ That's what I thought too.

Getting started is pretty tough! At the moment I've only got 1/3rd of today's goal finished and 0 ideas about how this got started or where it is going. ... Since I have a shitty attention span, my novel is probably going to end up more like a bunch of awkwardly-connected short stories. Haha..

Everyone who's participating feel free to post excerpts of your novels in this thread/link to the sites you are posting your novel up on

Eventually I'm going to put mine up on a blogspot too.

Here's what I've got so far:

Breaking the Fifth Wall

Gorgeous, like a painting hung in a museum—you can look but can’t touch; a newly uncovered artifact chipped and flawed and all, but it carries so much meaning: the woman in the glass case personified herself in these thoughts. Easing into my migraine I relinquished all imaginations of her until they became white noise. Easily done, easily forgotten. I’d gotten good at this sort of thing; a person learned how to keep sane eventually. I coaxed a benevolent pill of aspirin out of my vial.

And it wasn’t all too bad down here at all. I loved the sea, and it blanketed me from all possible angles. Down here there was no horizon, no opposition between the waves and the terrain, no howling winds egging on the enduring clash of the earth against itself. No noisy crash-crash-crashing… It was absolutely serene. The weight of the ocean didn’t bear down on my fragile bubble—merely cloaked it in a stern but protective embrace. If the sea weren’t there, the glass dome would burst, shattering outwardly with deafening force. It was built this way; it was built to counteract the pressure acting in on that shyly transparent membrane. The pressure-equalizing pump was powered by, well, what else but that ubiquitous blue body itself? Equal strength was met by equal strength where an immovable membrane coexisted within an unstoppable force, the process destroying an old truism we all thought we knew.
The old sailors of past ages, the pirates that antagonized them—they all likened the ocean to a tempestual woman, unbridled and unpredictable, something that had to be tamed. Conquered even.

And the woman in the glass case?

No, don’t think of her now.

Mornings and nights melded themselves into mere numeral representations, undermined by all those thousands of leagues between this place and where the surface of the water breaks; the sun had no fighting chance of making the journey. And yet, here I was. Subatomic particles that could endure any amount of unanticipated distance smashing hell-bent downwards at nearly three million meters per second didn’t have a chance. And yet, here I was… It made me think about just how empty space really is. All this room and only me.

The migraine subsided, giving me the consent to start work. Thank you. I rubbed a bleary eye and looked at the neon digital timer hovering like a wraith on the glass display. It was almost 1:00pm, a happy testament that my nap had not overstayed its visit. If it were still the first five months of my stay in the dome, it would have been almost 13:00 now, but I had changed it from its imposing and militaristic setting to the more naturalistic option. I liked having the distinction between night and day, whether the sun was still up there or not.