NaNoWriMo…NaNoWriMo…I can’t stop saying it. And I really can’t stop doing it. If you want to know what all the fuss is go to www.nanowrimo.org to read about some 35,000 people around the world signed up online, each with the intention of writing a novel in a month. Surely it is just the burst of early enthusiasm that has me at the computer morning and evening, entranced by my character Althea Mae (Al for short) and wondering how her story will turn out.
In general terms, I know how it all ends. I even know the last line, or at least I think I do. I have fallen victim to the fate of novelists everywhere—I have been highjacked by my character. It’s the strangest sensation, the funniest feeling. I understand the stresses in her psyche, not-so-surprisingly like my own. But I am not at all sure what she will do next. I think she’s on her way to dog camp, but who knows? I’m only at 3,352 words with over 46,648 to go. Or to be more upbeat, I am 7% done.
One of the other authors has a delightful blog at www.hoardedordinaries.com and she has the flexibility to put a sentence a day in the right sidebar. I won’t promise to give you a sentence every day, and I certainly have no intention of letting anyone read the finished novel, but I will leave you with one more sentence today.
“Al grabbed Rusty’s leash and headed for the door. Time for a little networking in the park, time for some non-Wall Street perspectives, time to avoid writing the resume, and most especially, time to avoid that imaginary psychotherapist who did not know what she was talking about.”