So I've finished another year of NaNoWriMo - crossing the finish line early and in excess. This means that I now have three fully completed first drafts of novels under my belt...
I do think my writing has changed this I finished my first first draft. I'd like to think I've improved, but who knows, I could be fooling myself. You can be the judge of that as I will actually be posting this years novel as a serial right on this very blog. So you get see the what the quality of my first drafts look like because I will only be doing the most minor of touch ups to it.
Also, when I've published the whole thing here on my blog I will make a PDF of the entire story available for download IF people seem to be enjoying it. If I don't get any feedback I will more than likely assume that no one likes it or wants it. However, chances are I'll make the pdf available no matter what lol.
This story is tentatively titled "Blood on the Stars" and will be found under that tag for now. If the name changes between now and when I start putting it up I will change the tag and I will post about it. So, here goes everything. I really hope you all enjoy it....
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 1, 2013
Twas the Night Before NaNo
So for my creative warm up for NaNoWriMo on October 31, I took the time to create this wonderful little adaptation of Clement Clarke Moore's "Twas the Night Before Christmas".
Twas the night before NaNo and all through the land
The writers were worrying and watching clock hands
Their fingers were poised over keyboards to fly
Waiting for midnight to roll right on by
The writers were bravely ignoring their beds
While visions of plot twists danced in their heads
Caffiene and sugar, their weapons, near at hand
Inner editors from their heads finally banned
At midnight's arrival their arose such a clatter
And now the word count was all that really mattered
Across their keyboards fingers flew so quick
Word after word appearing so slick
The moon shining in from the window so bright
Gave them ideas that just seemed so right
When what to their wondering eyes should appear?
But a novel beginning, a first draft so dear.
As that night stretched to days with dishes undone
Week two loomed upon them and chores they had shunned
The novel being written no longer shiny and new
Still they kept writing, kept struggling through
It was terrible, no good, each of them thought
But such defeating self-talk would stop them not
It was just a bad patch, they could edit in December!
But that was something none could allow, not in November.
Week three fell upon them with a thundering crash
And they began to believe that they weren't writing trash.
With slaps on the back and tonnes more caffiene
They went back to writing, once again keen
Week four snuck right up and scared every last one
And they all began to panic, would the novel be done?
With a clattering of keyboards and the biting of lips
They wrote without caring about bruised finger tips
That's it! They were done, the end had arrived
And everyone could hear their collective sigh
November was over, but the work wasn't quite done
There was editing to do, and it wasn't much fun
With ice packs on wrists and their beds beckoning sweetly
They could finally sleep, their novels saved completely
And then the writers cried out into the night
"Happy NaNo to all! And to all a good write!"
Twas the night before NaNo and all through the land
The writers were worrying and watching clock hands
Their fingers were poised over keyboards to fly
Waiting for midnight to roll right on by
The writers were bravely ignoring their beds
While visions of plot twists danced in their heads
Caffiene and sugar, their weapons, near at hand
Inner editors from their heads finally banned
At midnight's arrival their arose such a clatter
And now the word count was all that really mattered
Across their keyboards fingers flew so quick
Word after word appearing so slick
The moon shining in from the window so bright
Gave them ideas that just seemed so right
When what to their wondering eyes should appear?
But a novel beginning, a first draft so dear.
As that night stretched to days with dishes undone
Week two loomed upon them and chores they had shunned
The novel being written no longer shiny and new
Still they kept writing, kept struggling through
It was terrible, no good, each of them thought
But such defeating self-talk would stop them not
It was just a bad patch, they could edit in December!
But that was something none could allow, not in November.
Week three fell upon them with a thundering crash
And they began to believe that they weren't writing trash.
With slaps on the back and tonnes more caffiene
They went back to writing, once again keen
Week four snuck right up and scared every last one
And they all began to panic, would the novel be done?
With a clattering of keyboards and the biting of lips
They wrote without caring about bruised finger tips
That's it! They were done, the end had arrived
And everyone could hear their collective sigh
November was over, but the work wasn't quite done
There was editing to do, and it wasn't much fun
With ice packs on wrists and their beds beckoning sweetly
They could finally sleep, their novels saved completely
And then the writers cried out into the night
"Happy NaNo to all! And to all a good write!"
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