National Novel Writing Month: It Begins

I know my weekly post isn’t due until Wednesday, but guess what? It’s National Novel Writing Month! And you all know that means I always blog more than usual. So, I’ve decided to forego the “proper” technique of doing blog posts on a schedule for the month and post as much as I want to keep you all updated on how it’s going.

Two friends and I stayed up until midnight Saturday/Sunday so that we could start immediately, and ALL of us got our word counts in! Along with great conversation, some wine, scotch, and a 3:30 AM bedtime. Rather than using this jumpstart as a way to get ahead, I took it as full permission to take the rest of the day off.

I’m going back to historical fiction this year – last year’s contemporary romance didn’t go very well and that book has been tabled…hopefully permanently because from the beginning those characters were stubborn and rather mute. They deserve to be stuck on that cruise ship indefinitely for the rest of their days. This year’s book, however, “Nameless”, has lots of promise. I am not sure yet whether it is women’s fiction, romance, or . . . something else. because, like the typical pantser I am, I have no actual plot beyond a basic concept.

On a non-NaNo related note, I was supposed to post the monthly Graveyard Tale this morning, but that isn’t working for me either. I am effectively procrastinating by writing this blog post and watching Iron Chef – the original one from Japan which is SO MUCH BETTER than the American one they came out with at some point. I was delighted to find some episodes on YouTube. I wonder if I can buy them anywhere. . .

Well, despite my procrastination, you can expect a new Graveyard Tale by the end of the day…and making that promise to you will force me to actually finish it.

And, as a way to bring you in on the process this month, I thought I might occasionally share a sentence or two from my book. So, below find a couple of sentences from what I wrote yesterday:

“She lay perfectly still, the unusual weight of a quilt weighing her down, her hazel eyes darting across the ceiling. There was complete silence surrounding her and…she was warm. She couldn’t remember the last time she was warm in the middle of winter.”

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