Well, everyone, it’s that time. The time where Lance’s blog no longer chronicles my harried (I’m not quite sure if I spelled that right) writing adventure, my chaotic journey into characters, plot, and most importantly, a troubled transgender boy and his gang of other queer friends.
So there I was. The dawn of week four. It was an exhilirating experience, and not only that, I had nothing in the way. Absolutely. Nothing. Because I had a five-day weekend (thank you to Thanksgiving) as far as I was concerned, I had all the time in the world.
Okay. So I had planned a sleepover with my friend Exaal (name changed for privacy) that Tuesday. And then I learned I had a therapist apointment pretty much as soon as I got to my mom’s house. But that wasn’t any problem, was it?
Well, I kind of slacked off on Monday, so I thought I would just make it up the next day. Obviously, that didn’t happen, so I thought I could make it up on Wednesday after I arrived at my Dad’s. And lo and behold, that didn’t happen either.
So here’s what had to be done. I had to type 5,663 or so words on Thursday. I abused Write or Die heavily, and in the end, I got my wordcount through. I only slacked off one more time, on Saturday, but I was busy.
Anyway, with wordcout issues out of the way, guess what came up? Wordcount issues.
I was nearing the climax, hurtling towards it, in fact, when I realized I still had, what, 8,000 words to go? Not good. At this rate I was going to finish the story without even getting to 45,000.
So I stretched the plot a bit, and last night, 6:30 PM, made it to 50,115 words total.
Now to the conclusion: Basically, I got something that theatre people refer to a lot. It’s a confidence upon second performance that causes you to falter; and in a way, I was confident I could win this one with minimal effort.
I probably could have, if I had done what I did last year. Last year, I basically disconnected the internet, TV, and other distractions from my life entirely. So I was able to get my wordcount done and actually DO my homework, THEN play or go on the internet or whatever. This year, I screwed that, instead wasting time with the Yadas (not that that’s not perfectly acceptable) watched TV, and played video games without doing my novel. Bad idea.
Not only that, I was completely engaged in A Girl Named December. (last year’s novel.) I was always completely immersed in my story and didn’t get the hankering for the distractions listed above very often. I loved writing it. This year, I made a mistake. I had my characters and plot mapped out since the end of September, so by the time November rolled around, I was sick and tired of my novel already.
Next year, I hope dearly that I won’t get the same foolish cockiness and early planner-ness that nearly dealt me out this year. But before I get to all that serious stuff, I’m going to celebrate my victory. And then take a hard-earned nap.