If I’m not around it’s because I’m NaNo-ing.
What is NaNo-ing?
It’s National Novel Writing Month and I am writing a novel. Well, not a whole novel, because I cannot write a novel in a month, and I think fifty-thousand words will barely scratch the surface of this novel.
I”m sorry to say that my novel from 2012’s NaNoWriMo isn’t done, but also, it’s at 89,452.
Last year’s NaNo piece is a fairly good chunk, hanging out around 14k, because I sorta bailed, failed, whathaveyou.
So yes, I have three unfinished novels, and one story I tinker with, as it evolves here and there, and I just don’t know what the hell it’s meant to be.
All I can say about it is that I have excellent initiative — I am really good at starting novels.
Oh, wait! That’s not all!
I am also aware that all of my settings are lakes. I’m personally attached to a lake setting, but I was still astounded when I realized that.
Worst of all, this novel is a fucking love story.
I hate romance.
I gag at romance.
I am about the least romantic person I know. I actually may be the least…I dunno, I’ll think on it.
My husband is romantic, and I endure it, but only because I can make fun of him. Okay, and I love him.
Anyway, I’m writing a fucking romance novel, but it will not, under any circumstances contain the phrases, “taken roughly in the barn” or “pulsating manhood” nor will there be any exposed nipples or windblown hair on the cover.
Fuck All, I can’t believe there’s a love story in me.
I gotta go NaNo s’more.