My word count for NaNoWriMo is falling short, but i refuse to give in. I've put in so many words to the blogger named "30 Days in a Van" that i am falling in love. Falling in love with writing. With the seclusion and emptiness of my van. Despite the fact that one of the kids spilled milk in here and it smells like crap. I will not cry over spilt milk.
The novel is depressing at best and a testament to my tenacious nature at worst.
I am on Chapter Nine. The eighth story. It has been incredibly painful to write as it is mostly a reflection on my life. Non-fiction with creative license. I won't be going all James Frey and calling it an autobiography though.
Here is a small excerpt:
I spent the summer of my eleventh year in Portugal with a soon to be divorced, miserable couple who would drink too much wine every night, then make loud passionate love in our small villa. I spent my days reading horror novels about brothers and sisters locked in attics, while sitting on the edge of a large cliff overlooking a small bay full of poor fisherman bringing in their daily catch to sell to the local tourist traps.
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"I spent my days reading horror novels about brothers and sisters locked in attics"
Oh my - VC Andrews?!?
I was so dark when I read them.
Wow - powerfully descriptive, though. Good job! Keep slammin' - I would only imagine (as I've never undertaken a project like Nanowromo) that one day your word count will shoot way, way up, as you will experience a crazy-ass creative rush.
Posted by MontanaJen | November 8, 2006 8:16 PM