The NaNo beast is hard to kill.

Here's a visual of 60k+ words from last year:

BTW, it's bragging time. Yes, I wrote all that. Yes, it's all one story, although not one plotline. I can has productivity!

Here's a visual of what I've written for NaNo stacked on top of 60k+ words:

That was my productivity deflating.

I've reached the conclusion that 30k words by the end of November would be pretty goddamned awesome. It's more than I've written in a year, probably.

One more NaNo picture delight:

She does this to me every time. I am powerless to stop her.

Also, my awesome girlfriend of awesomeness has been collaging stuff for our walls:

GUYS! I HAVE LINK ON MY WALLS. I'M ALMOST BADASS!

Also also, I love downloading pics from the camera and discovering adorable self-portraits of my adorable girlfriend of awesomeness.

That's all, really.

Running NaNoWriMo observations

As many of you know by now, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, short for National Novel Writing Month, where the challenge is to write 50,000 words of a novel in November. It's hardcore, chops-proving stuff. And I don't have those chops. Not even close.

To show you what it's like, a handful of thoughts I had during the last few days of struggling to write:

I'm much better at writing angry gay men. (Yes, folks, you read that right. It's more natural for me to write about a pissed-off half-gay ex-gangster than a 25 year old woman who has a difficult family and works at a coffee shop. FML.)

I'm not even going to get halfway through this by the end of November.

I suck at description. Can I write an entire novel in dialogue?

Huh. I guess I really am a shameless romantic.

Jesus, Novie's a hypocrite.

Fuck this game! It's four in the morning grandma, you win! (I know that's weird.)

So it pretty much swings between wishful thinking, derision, and a slippery grasp on exactly how cynical my protagonist is.

Temptation to artificially inflate word count: Must. Be. Resisted.