Crunch Time (a.k.a. Time For Some Crunchy Stellas)
Alright, it’s not too late. I’ve got a little over two hours to write 50,000 words. It’s gonna be tight, but if I hunker down and focus I think I can pull it out.
Although I did just finish reading seven years of Achewood so I think it’s mainly going to be about manic depressive cats and coked up squirrels and five year old otters and their crazy, mixed-up adventures.
I really was dangerously close to attempting to consider doing this thirty days ago, but the month of November kind of crept up on me. Can you imagine though? If I actually went and wrote a novel. Everyone coming up to me all “man, why’d you have to go and do a thing.”
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Watching:
Been there, done that. Novel writing is so 1994…or was it 1995?
I’d hardly call Darkwing Duck slash fiction featuring Mulder, Scully, Pikachu, Captain Picard and Wesley Crusher (all dressed up as the Power Rangers) erratically scrawled on Taco Bell™ bean burrito wrappers a novel. Not that there isn’t a market for that. In fact…I’ll have my agent set something up. Expect a call.
Let’s get dangerous!
“I really was dangerously close to attempting to consider doing this thirty days ago” =
“I can’t promise I’ll try, but I’ll try to try…”
I have it under good authority (Jesus) that had I written a novel, it would indeed have freaked out many a blind man (my target audience).
Well, what the hell. I tried my best and failed miserably, before even starting.
The lesson is, never try.