November 9th.

  • Nov. 9th, 2008 at 9:42 PM
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I have officially given up on this years NaNoWriMo! My drunkard has been relieved of the stress of the 30 day novella for at least another two years. Sorry Madame D.

November 8th. Oh, dear.

  • Nov. 8th, 2008 at 2:28 PM
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Today I haven't written a single word. Yesterday I struggled desperately to get to my target before midnight. It would appear as though my dear old drunkard is as much over this whole process as I am. He is becoming more and more difficult as the days progress. I doubt it will be long before he and I both give up entirely and spend a much needed, yet little deserved, day doing nothing but sleeping, and possibly eating occasionally. We will then be able to forget this entire process for another few years, as I will not be participating in NaNoWriMo next year due to my exams. Sorry Madame D. But the drunkard and I have not quite given up yet and until we do, I will continue to torture and bribe the old man for my own selfish purposes.

30 days and 50,000 words to go.
23 days and 38,300 words to go.

November 6th. Surprisingly, less dreadful.

  • Nov. 7th, 2008 at 6:11 AM
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Last night, once again, my drunkard waited until the last minute to make his appearance. This time, however, what he finally came up with was surprisingly funny. Due to this last minute humour, I have decided to forgive him for the drivel he has been writing for the past 5 days (well, the last several years, at least, really). I have also decided, once more, to delay quitting this harrowing adventure into the heart of the rushed, 30 day novella for at least one more day. Less heartening, however, is the fact that, last time I checked, Madame D's word count was well into the 15,000s. I shudder to check again.

30 days and 50,000 words to go.
24 days and 39,650 words to go.

Oh Dear, November 5th.

  • Nov. 6th, 2008 at 7:47 AM
aissi: (Default)
Yesterday, my drunkard almost failed entirely to show his face, waiting until the early hours of the evening to make an appearance, and when he did, finaly, show up, what he wrote can only be desribed as drivel.
Fortunately, I did make my intended word count for the day, in the end, which was lucky,  because, for the first time this November, I was honestly considering quitting, due to the fact that my NaNoing exploits have me seriously behind at school. So far, I have failed to hand in every homework task I have been assigned this week. However, my drunkards (late) appearance has forced me to delay my quitting for atleast another day.

30 days and 50,000 words to go.
25 days and 41,500 words to go.

November 3rd. Also dreadful.

  • Nov. 3rd, 2008 at 7:21 PM
aissi: (Default)
Today my drunken story teller was even more reluctant to come out of his alcohol induced state of unconsciousness to help me.
After the appeal of several bottles of rocket fuel proved to great to resist, he finally put in an appearance. I managed to lure him into the open, at which point I attempted to beat some crafty ideas and literary prowess out of the old man. But, to my utter shock and dismay, found only amusing Youtube videos and kittens eating with chopsticks can only be of so much use in my novella. Alas, my story teller appears to be as literarily inept as I am.
So, why a drunken old man? you ask.
Well, the answer is really quite simple. I needed somebody who could churn out quantities of semi-lucid literary slop at great speed and then, not only let me take all of the credit, but retain no memory, what-so-ever, of ever writing anything, as to avoid possible future lawsuits. So, who better than a drunkard who slips out of his alcoholic coma only long enough to drink amounts sufficient to allow him to slip back in. It is during these rare forays into the land of the conscious, when I am able to coerce the man's hand to paper, that I manage to come up with my greatest literary works.
For now I will let my inebriated ghost-writer, of sorts, sleep, in his own filth as it were, and see how much help he is to me come morning.

Only 30 days and 50,000 words to go.
Only 27 days and 44,800 words to go.

November 1st. How dreadful!

  • Nov. 1st, 2008 at 1:56 PM
aissi: (Default)
This morning, between midnight and approximately 1 minute past on this, the first day of November in the Year 2008, I put pen to paper and began, what will indubitably be, the longest, most difficult and frustrating month of the year.
In the Depths of night, at the house of my friend, [personal profile] spaceman , sleep deprived and apprehensive, I, for the second torturous year in row, set out to pen an awfully written, ill-planned, 50,000 word novella in 30 days, all in the name of National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, as it is affectionately referred to by those who are subjected to this cruel and unusual self-inflicted punishment.
As the minutes rolled by, delightfully, quite a bit faster than expected, the words were yanked, rather painfully, from the drunken, disheveled storyteller squatting within the derelict region of my mind known to psychologists and kindergarten teachers alike, as the imagination. Around 2 hours, a rather painful hand-cramp and a disappointingly low 1800 words later my storyteller once again fell into a drunken stupor on a pile of burlap sacks in the corner, and [personal profile] spaceman  and I were finally granted a well earned night's sleep.

Only 30 days and 50,000 words to go!
Only 29 days and 48,200 words to go!


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