2.9K words/day, until 11/30. That’s the daily word goal. Some folks are writing 5K words a day, and that would be awesome. So far, I believe the most I’ve written is just over 2K a day, this month, so it’s a definite stretch for me. Some of my friends of course are like, but Anna, you have a flexible schedule, it should be quite easy to spend a day writing. In fact, that’s what my hausfrau, deeply religious, strict and dutiful inner German grandmother voice is saying to me. My snarky, pouty, snooty, pretentious Reedie inner (male) critique is telling me that no wonder it’s hard to write 2K a day, it’s hard for experienced New Yorker journalists to write simple 200 word articles in a month. Or, think of poets, 10 words in a year.
With the other novels, there was a similar gap of waiting and silence around Thanksgiving, then afterwards, a serious period of hermit lifestyle that produced a massive amount of words. The last week of November is tough, it always is. I thought today of not finishing Nanowrimo and just working on this like a normal novel. The problem is that this structure has a very nice element of closure. And, it’s doable, and I’ve done it before. Yes, this is a lot more adventurous of a project than my other attempts. I can’t simply have ninjas land or aliens burst from stomachs. I can do wacky things, true, but I’m trying to mimic, or version, a really great book and there’s some “integrity to the text,” as we liked to wield that phrase around during my English major days. Usually my friend Ann would say that when I would admit that to get a book read for a class I would read it in a “postmodern” (another great 10 cent word) method. First chapter, last chapter, middle chapter, second chapter, second to last chapter, etc. That way I could answer questions in class from all over the book seemingly like I’d read it, but in reality hadn’t entirely. I was doing an “injustice to the text,” she’d say. But I’d be happy that I would fool a teacher by a random quote from an odd section, that sure, wouldn’t make sense in general but at least it would show that I was just an untalented English major with no real unique insight, instead of the partier that I was that didn’t finish my homework. I preferred stupidity to laxitude? Hm.
The photo above is from my Mother’s flickrstream of things she wants to sell on eBay. Please don’t buy it as I want the collection for my birthday-xmas combo present. Deshouliere’s canape plates of women golfing. Excellent in its campy factor. And what bad form she has! Her head is up, she’s leaned over way too far. In fact, looks like she’s playing baseball.