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Ah to hammer fifty thousand words in less than thirty days, yep, it is once more November. This is national novel writing month, a writing extravaganza that started in Berkeley some twenty years ago, a writingish conglomerate that now spans all across five continents. Author here ponders, if she described the nanowrimo phenomenon accurately, she watches the woman in brown and black and olive sprint up the stairs, she feels the dullness of her writingish endeavour, she listens in to the constant talk-a-talk of the study group near the entrance of the college library, she can see the boredom of the librarians, the ones that are here for ages, she types away types away, every day at least 1300 words, but more 3000, she will be a winner at the end of the month, her wordcount will make it should make it. The red chairs near the window, ah the writing the writing. The roar of the computer, it is as if the machine screams at her. She types she writes. Her words her words. Slight poetry, slight novelling. Where does fiction start where does it end, who categorizes writing? We have 195 words here, ah, a lot more to go, a lot a lot. Vancouver as grey as always, she ponders, nobody will publish this, you cannot dis any given region if you want to make it in lit land. You have to be utterly nice and utterly polite, do not mess with powers that are stronger than you. That yield more power than what the individual can possibly yield. Philosophical waxing, otherwise called non-fiction. She ponders, she is not articulate enough for non-fiction, nope, this is definitely a novel. A non-novel. A semiautographical account, a logbook of a lowly writer. She looks around, seems, not everybody is starting up her great international novel, the woman in black who drives the chairs around and looks to her back, she has other things on her mind than penning the nextest masterpiece, so does the young woman at the other chair, who is wearing a black coat with a reddish lining. She
sneezes, loudly, starts typing ah typing. There is a thesaurus near the window, there are so many thesauruses near the window. Thesauri or whatever the plural of thesaurus might be. And we write here write here. Against the dreariness of the after-Halloween, when orange and black is not en vogue any more, when little kids are brought to the day-care in the distance, when stuff happens only waiting to be described by writer here and writer here. She has no plot for her story, none and none and none, none. 446 words, write on and write on and write on and write on. A woman in red and white outside, the college here is happening happening. 2. She ponders if it is wise to number her mini-chapters, what if she gets it wrong, what if she calls a chapter ―3‖ when it is ―2‖. If you partition the words it has to be accurately. You have to compartmentalize your words nicely, there has to be an inner logic to the way things are done. We cannot have anarchy here, there has to be a Prussian structure to everything. Author ponders around, maybe her last sentence was non-P.C.. we cannot have that have that. Be nice, lady, be nice, ah nice. 3. Writing is boring, already already. We have only 572 words here, how will we make it through 50 000, how to survive this survive this, the horror, the horror. The woman in black who drives the chairs walks by author again, this time with a new load of chairs. She has her hair in an up-do now, she stares down, she is content with her lot, no more looking around. The drudgery of the everyday, the everyday the everyday. And there she is again, the chair she drives forward now, is black, one single blackish chair. Some of the chairs are black, some of them are silvery. And we type here and type here and type here and type here.
4. She ponders what to write about. She spent too much time on the nanowrimo-site, checking out the various forums out, the ones in Adelaide and the Netherlands, the ones in Chelsea, nyc and new west right here in vancitay, the ones in hamburg and, well, she did not really check all of those forums out. And, hey, is it forums or fora? The most intriguing post was the one that invited people to do a five Burroughs tour in nyc, just go all over town and write and write and write and write. Furthermore, there was a woman in, maybe the Netherlands who has penned 25 000 words already, even with the time dif that is impressive, impressive. Author ponders, she remembers that in 2012 a woman in Goteborg, Sweden finshed the 50 000 words in seventeen hours, wow, that must be pretty bad for the fingers, all that typing, carpal tunnel galore. We have still 840 here, nothing to talk about, lots to sneeze at, scoff at, anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. Author here checked her email, she had a so very nice e-rejection , the lady was very sweet in her rejection, anyhoo, let us type and type and type and type still some more. A woman in pastel green is busy knitting a pastel beige shawl, silently quietly on the red chair in the corner near the window, in the library at langara langara. Author here ponders if it is better for the writing to name the college here, should it not be better to refer to this as THE COLLEGE, anycollege, anyuniversity. And what is the dif between the term university and college, they are all skools, all skools. No hierarchy ah no hierarchy. 989, ah not bad and not bad. Her words are so very shmeh, but, hey, we write and we write, quantity over quality, always always. Author ponders, she had definitely probs with signing in to the nanowrimosite, apparently she now has three different accounts and only one of them works, pretty weird huh pretty strange and strange. It is cold here chilly, she has to go and have something to eat, this is annoying annoying annoying. 1056, yay, one and thousand and five and six. Not quite and not quite and not quite
and not quite and not quite. Ah the singsongs of the language, on November first, in vancitay vancitay. 1094 it is and it is and it is and it is. 5. Gotta leave this place, after all gotta move the car in the mall parking lot. 4 hours, that is all we can stay there. Literature has to wait, master pieces have to wait. Nobel prizes gotta wait, all of them, all of them. Gotta book your flight to Stockholm later ah later. Outside, someone biking ah biking. 6. So, maybe, we should feed some more words to this machine. Author here is siting on this chair since nine in the morning, it is now past twelve, she mostly surfed the net, not much writing, nope, not much writing. 7. On the telly, a soccer player with a strong Italian accent, talking about david beckham, because this is the BBC, it is called football, not soccer, Anyhoo, they are still talking about the Italian league, the two sports broad casters talking soccerish mumbo-jumbo. Author is starting to feel kinda sick, pangs of tummy ache, maybe wolfing down one pot of haagen dasz does that to you does that to you. Cookie dough ice cream, 500 milliliters of it, must be too much for the body, too much ice cream in one sitting. Ice-cream for lunch and dinner, not exactly healthy healthy. Author here will burn off all those calories by typing and typing. She had 1700 calories already, one banana bread, one coffee and cream, one tub of ice cream, too much grease and too much sugar. Arteries are clogging up, ever so slightly slightly. She ponders, authors of yore used to
sustain on booze, for her ice cream will be the drug of choice. Though it does not seem to agree with her, her stomach does not seem to, well, stomach this. The feel of whooziness, not that good for writing, for writing. 1399 words, ah well oh well. 8. Still typing still typing. There is not much to see here, plants, curtains, a paper basket, the telly dominates this space. CNN, the LAX shooting, not yet info about the shooter. Anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. 9. The middle of the day on November One, the novel, the non-novel. No plot, no narrative. She ponders, plot and narrative are synonyms. Non-narrative sounds better than non-plot. 10. 1481 words. 11. 1483. 12. 1485. Words amassing, it is two oh two in the afternoon, pacific time. 13. (or 12+1 if you are borderline superstitious) Page 5, huh. In the old times, author here used to count her pages, not her words, nowadays, she does the wordcount thingie. It is rainy outside, not really stark rain, more drippity-drop. But it is
definitely iffy, a very wet wet wet day. A Vancouver day that is, a typical Vancouver day. Author here has a belly-ache, a tummy-ache, not a really sharp one, it is just that the stomach is complaining, 500 milliliters of ice-cream is not what she is used to having in her body. The body does not like it at all, the nerve endings in her stomach area are complaining. Yesterday, the nerve endings in her lower shins were complaining, seems, there is always something. If you exercise too much, it hurts, if you eat too much it hurts. She ponders, this is not the stuff of a novel, a novel is more about protagonist or something, more about james bond or hamlet or what have you, the author should not talk about herself, she should just describe and describe. Astrid Lindgren has to talk about Pippi Longstocking, yup, that kind of writing ah that kind of writing. Shakespeare writes about people in Italy or in Denmark, that is how literature is fashioned, ah, fashioned. Grocery lists do not double as literature, yep, that is how it seems that is how it seems. Women gotta write ‗bout womeny stuff, men, however are allowed to write on whatever their dear hearts desire. There are more male Nobel laureates than there are female ones, ah the horror ah the horror. Discrimination, you know, that kind of stuff, that kind of stuff. Author ponders, she was slipping into a sleepery coma in front of the telly the night before, 30 Rock was on, tina fey and this one guy duking it out on whether woman are non-funny, whether they make good comedians or not. Something like that, something of that kind. You can google the episode if you wanna know more. She ponders, this is not how good writing is done, now is it, huh, is it? Anyhoo, we have 1888 words here, all we need, all we need 4 today. All we ever ever need. not 2000 yet, not yet and not yet and not yet. 14. Still the news about the LAX shooting, it somehow seems to be blown way out of proportion by the media. Of course, a shooting is scary, but keep it in perspective, there was one dead person.
15. Typing ah typing. An ad for Maybelline, smoky eyes. Now a friends rerun, laughs, the like and the like. elle mc phearson, not bad-looking, huh. 1948, write on and write on. phoebe, Rachel, monica, laughing, joey entering, ross entering. 1962, write on and write on. fill the Page, FAST AND FAST. 1974, still writing a-writing. outside, dusk is so near so near so near. 1987, 1988. Elliott Gould, now Rachel talking about her trifle, which for some reason has beef and peas in it. and 2007 it is it is. 16. Now TWO AND A HALF MEN on the telly, somehow watching a sitcom is, well, it is either conducive to good writing or it is bad for good writing. Either way, the words amass. And it is fun to watch a funny show while typing, it is entertaining. You have to concentrate on two different tasks, tasks that have nothing to do with each other. Some people listen to music when writing, author here listens to laughtracks. The music, the rhythms of the telly. That should propel the words forward. 2104, write on and write on and write on and write on. 17. Author ponders if she should go to the market, it is not that good to sit inside, to be cooped up. Some movement is needed, some non-claustrophobic motioning. Some people-watching, some interaction with others. Some looking at the lights of the city, that kind of stuff, that kind of stuff. Author ponders, she is definitely a city-girl, always has been. If push comes to shove, she lives too suburbian anyways. Anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. She ponders, the coffee shop on forty-first is pretty good for writing, Lots of college kids doing their home-work. And we type and type and type and type here. 2228, 2231. End of page seven, end of page seven.
18. On the telly, a program about feet, they are selling products that you put into your shoes and that support your feet. Everybody on the program is singing the praise for those products, Yup, it is an informatial in the middle of the day. If you only put those arch supports into your shoes you can be on your feet forever. You are never ever tired. If you believe them you do not even need to sleep, no rest whatsoever. Which is so weird, after a while everybody gets tired on their feet, you can put all the support into your shoes, after a while you have to sit or sleep. The idea that you can stand forever is ludicrous. Insert shminsert. And we have 2365 words here. GOOD FEET, that is the name of the company. She types, types. Has to produce some more words and some more words. Second day of nanowrimo, outside, rain, rain, rain, rain. Inside here, typing against the telly. 2500 words to produce, tough, if there is no story to tell. The informatial is still singing its songs, author ponders, how are those things that are advertized different from dr. scholl‘s products that you get in the supermarket. Now, there is a new informatial about liposuction. Nope, it is merely one ad. Now an ad for an HMO. Seems, that this channel is geared towards senior citizens and it seems that it is a seattle-based channel. Author here ponders, maybe her writing is not as profound as Tolstoy‘s. Maybe describing the sounds and sights of the telly is not enough to make for a fullfledged novel, not even a novella. Anyhoo, we type here and type here, we are committed to finish this by the end of this month, gotta keep on typing and typing. 2533, write on and write on and write on and write on. 2552, more words ah more words. She submits her wordcount to the nanowrimo site, apparently at this speed she will finish the novel on December 10. Not good, still gotta type and type and type and type. Given, that being cooped up to write is not exactly the most funnest endeavour, one has to somehow try to find ways to make the medicine go down,
maybe a walk to the local coffee shop would be nice, something sugary, greasy seems to be a welcome aversion from this mindless, mindnumbing hacking away at the keyboard. Something with sprinkles on top, something with sprinkles on top. And we type and type and type and type. She should make her way downtown, there is always something to see, something to write about. different people, different faces. The sounds of the city, yup, why not and why not. 2696, type on and write on. 2702. At this rate you will finish on December 8, that is what the site says. Yay and yay. 19. The telly telly telly. chopped kitchen, cooking eating as competition. Now ads, an ad for milk. It is near to the night, maybe even night already. It sure is dark outside. Author here has to feed some more words to the machine, for some reason, the software is acting up. A coffee ad, an ad for a TV-show. And back to the chopped kitchen. Today is the last day of daylight saving time, btw, btw. Still typing and still typing. Now scallops finger limes Chinese broccoli and some fruit that author has never ever seen. Scalloped potatoes and scallops. The show makes you kind of hungry, but that is the same with all the cooking shows. Tamarillos, seems that is the name of the fruit, it is a tropical fruit. An ad for kitchen ware, an ad for a movie. The words pile up. slowly steadily. Typing while watching the telly, an ad for an iphone5. An ad for Viking river cruises, a man in an english accent. An ad for a juice. 2894, near to 3000, near to 3000. Tomorrow, the nyc marathon, author ponders, writing here sure seems like a marathon. All of these words and all of these words. fast ah fast fast fast fast. 2930, so near to 3000, so near to near. Type on and type on, still the chopped kitchen on the telly, another chef will be chopped. It is kind of fun, how a cooking show can have cliff hangers, after all this is not a james bond movie. And we type here
and we type here. the chefs come back into the room, they are awaiting the verdict. It is fun, how the music underscores the suspense. Btw, 3007 it is it is. 20. At this rate, December 4 will be the day, that the novel will be finished. Which means, you still have to keep on typing and typing. Granny smith apples, aged cheddar, hamburger buns and some other ingredient, those are the mystery ingredients for the dessert round, the chefs are starting out. One is male, one is female. And they cook and cook and cook and cook. The forth ingredient is vanilla frosting. It kind of is inspiring to watch the food channel, one wants to start cooking, though, if push comes to shove we first have to do the dishes that are piling up in the sink and outside of the sink. Writing a novel, not that conducive to doing the housework. Author read the blog of one of the participants in nanowrimo, she did all her shopping beforehand, so that she is able to do just the writingish stuff all through november. Preparation is everything, who cares about inspiration. The words will build on each other anyways, as long as you have a functional type writer, you will sail thru the month easily. Easily. In 2009 or so, she did not have a computer, her laptop stopped working three days into the month. She had to do it all in longhand, transcription took forever. Anyhoo, 3218, just write on and write on and write on here. Gotta still go down to the market, it is boring here, there is always something happening in safeway. Especially on a Saturday night, everybody is in line for chips and ice cream, junk food ah junk food. On the telly, aged cheddar ice cream whatever that is whatever that is. 3273, write on and write on and write on and write on. Now, another show, mystery diners. A bar in philly, one really gets hungry while watching this. Moreso than when watching the more refined cooking. The hamburgers make you more hungry, the taproom has this vibe of making you overeat, the sinfulness of overeating paired with the sinfulness of overdrinking. The giving in to
temptation, you cannot really overeat in a refined restaurant, but the casual atmosphere of a bar, a pub, a kneipe, that makes for overindulging. Anyhoo, on let us still type and type and type and type. 3391, yay and yay and yay and yay. 3399, 3400, 3401. 21. At this rate she will finish on november 30, so, hey, time to call it a day. Happy typing later on in the month. 22. So, maybe obsession is an adequate word for this, nanowrimo obsession. The author hardly manages to roll outta bed, she finds herself in front of the computer, writing before anything else. the obsession of all of november, or half of november if you are at the finish line before December first. Writing as obsession that cannot be good cannot be good. that will not result in publication, if publication is the ultimate goal. If writing for writing‘s sake is the goal, well, then everything is hoky-dory. Author ponders, the word must be different than that, oky-dory, okee dorree, she can google that, nowadays you do not need a thesaurus, you can google and google and google. The day before she followed a thread on the nanowrimo site, people were discussing which software they use for writing this or if they were using the computer at all, yup, people were talking shop. scribener was used by the majority of people, only one person claimed to use good old MS Word, which is what author here uses. Always ah always. times new roman, 12 point, double-spaced. That is how we roll yup roll roll. Author ponders, outside, utter sunniness, blinding sunniness, a sunny day in early november, in vancitay, gotta play outside ah outside. but first things first, gotta feed the words to this machine,
gotta roll the wordcount forward, above anything else anything else. 3660, write on and write on and write on and write on. She listens to the noise of her own typing,this is what she was born to do. fashion novel after novel, story after story. All these books swimming through cyberspace, she wonders if it is still called cyber, if cloud is not the new thing. Her grammar is off, her syntax is off, ah, that happens on days like these days like these. When you feed your writings to the machine fast and fast and fast and fast. repetitions galore, yup, why not and why not and why not and why not. the singsang of the lingo, musical writing, composing of a novel. composing of a narrative, that sounds better better. 3782, she might reach 5000, wouldn‘t that be nice be nice. Three seven nine five, at this rate you will finish on December ten, so says the site, the site. All you gotta do, is sign in to the nanowrimo site, update the wordcount, automatically it tells you where you stand, magic ah magic. Tolstoy did not write like this, maybe that was why he was Tolstoy. This kind of writing is utterly strange, utterly weird, anyhoo, gotta type, no time to reflect on the process itself. Author ponders, she had a banana in the morning, one banana for breakfast, she has to lose weight, thus she will live on bananas and potatoes. That is her kind of diet, she abhors salads, a salad diet is not in the stars. And we write we write, against the sunny weather outside, against bla and bla. Whatever that means whatever that means. tough to propel the wordcount forward when there is no real subject matter, musings of a writer, that is a way too thin subject matter. She looks up at the books in the bookshelf, they must be better than her writings, they managed to be found by a publisher. Obviously, there is always self publishing, you can publish with lulu or with blur, you do not need simon and shuster, anymore, vanity press, what an outdated word, nowadays, self publishing is the way to go. What with the publishing crisis. Then again there were always people who would talk about crisis, since the days of
Gutenberg. And we write and write and write and write. 4036, not bad and not bad and not bad and not bad. 4061, to be precise, she misread the little wordcount icon at the bottom of the page. 4077, four oh seven seven. The words amassing ammasing. On a quiet Sunday morning, when words accumulate accumulate. There will be a write-in, she has to find out where it will be. she does not really like the write-ins, people tend to chat instead of doing their writings. Socializing instead of putting down the words, we cannot have that have that. writing is anti-social, a solitary pursuit. The words of a talker without an audience, that is how it is how it is. author ponders if she should patent, trademark her overuse of repetitions, maybe that will be the new thing. Academics will write about that, the writing at the border of poetry and prose, something like that something of that kind. Poetry has rhymes and rhythms, prose, nah, not so much. and type on and type on and type on and type on. 4221, let us see when we will finish this, where do we stand on the nanowrimo site. 4238, at this point, at this point. 4245. Four two four five. 4250. Yay and yay and yay and yay. 4258, December six, she ponders, she can do this in one sitting, her back will hurt, she will be physically exhausted, but her job will be done, for today, for today. Some faucet is leaking somewhere in the distance, huh, there is something waiting to be described described. Last year she started querying lit agents the minute she started out, after all they are used to being bombarded by e-queries, once november lets out. author here started at the beginning of november, get a headstart, ah, why not and why not. apparently, only 250 novels that were produced during national novel writing month were ever published, as one person pointed out, that is quite a gloomily low number, given that there are about 500 000 participants. But, hey, who cares, just keep on typing, keep on writing, keep on feeding your words to this machine here, fast and fast and fast and fast and fast. she could watch the telly while writing, it feels too
solitary in this complete quietness. Too weird too strange, way too strange. the writer at the border of insanity, her lower back hurts, not good for the body to sit hunched over, pressing down button after button. The machine waiting for the input, the words and the words and the words and the words. she should go to a coffeeshop, watch people, that would be far better for this text, descriptions of individuals, to liven up the prose. Men, women, kids, coming in, asking for a latte, for a tea. Author ponders, it is Sunday noon, not a good tine for the coffeeshop on arbutus, too many people, no place to sit. She will feel overcrowded, she has to sit uncomfortably near the window. thus, maybe staying here is better, better. she could go to the kitchen, for a change of space, not a change of pace. 4570, the wordcount icon is way too small, way too small. author here has to squint to decipher it, ah what a drag what a drag. December three, 2013, she does not need that many words anymore, just keep on typing a-typing. Today was the new york marathon, all those runners, who set foot in front of foot, who run to nowhere nowhere. The same as her writing, quantity is what matters what matters. The process itself is what should be rewarding, nobody will read this anyways anyways. what happened to the good old days when quality mattered, old days are always good, nostalgia tends to glorify the past. That is how it has been all through history, that is how it will be all through the future. Seems nothing ever changes, nothing ever changes. Or, in other words, the only thing constant is change. anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. fire up the machine, press down letter after letter after letter after letter after letter. her shoulders hurt, that one point, on the left middle side, short seepening pangs, for moments, for seconds. Ah more words, gimmee some more words and some more words. 4777, or something like that something like that. hurl this forward down to 5000, write on and write on aND write on and write on. she had enough of sitting in the small darkened room, ah, now it is the kitchen the kitchen. The light from above reflects against the keys, which makes
it tough to concentrate to concentrate. Her back is giving out, not that good not that good. writing is tough on the body it is tough on the mind . but we have next to 5000 here, so there ah so there. 4864, write on and write on. painters tend to paint images of the painting studio, animators tend to self portrait themselves, why not the portrait of the writer as old woman, yup, indeedy, indeedy. 5000, so near and so near. We are losing it here, comes with the territory, comes with the territory. Anything to get the job done, hurl the words against the machine and any words will do will do. author ponders, she will need new glasses by the end of this month, a new back, new fingers. in 2012, she finished this at half-point, 50 000 words were done in 15 days. there is a three day labour weekend novel writing contest, yup, just make it tougher to do this, raise the bar raise the bar. There is a marathon run that crosses all of europe, well, technically it is not a marathon, it is an ultra run, amp up the requirements, higher faster, reach for the stars reach for the stars. To the border of what is humanly possible, the tinge of the challenge, the reluctant fun, the exhaustion. 5045, yay and yay and yay and yay. at this rate you will finish on time, at this rate you will finish on november 30. The website has spoken, we are outta here and outta here. life can start up again and again. the solitude of the writing studio, see yer tomorrow tomorrow. 23. Back at the computer, what with the end of daylight saving time, it is actually eleven now instead of twelve noon. Might as well get a headstart on all of these words, author here did the dishes, wow, the sink was pretty dirty, what with all those nacho chips in there, it became all mushy and grimy. Her hands feel clingy, what with all the soap suds that attacked them, dish washing liquid, not good for your skin, it is way too harsh and too harsh. On the telly fareed zakaria and mayor Bloomberg, for moments for moments. Author ponders if she should repeat verbatim what was said on the telly, nope, better to build new words, new realities. A novel is all about fashioning
what does not exist, author here is not really that kind of writer, she is schooled in writing essays for school, high school, art school, art school essays are very concrete descriptions of what you see, there is no space for fiction in writing about art, it becomes so very technical at times. And there is certainly no dialogue, it is not as if the brush talks to the paint. Anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on and type on. 5311, let us see if this will run down to 6000, by the end of the day, by the end of the day. 24. She had fun with the nanowrimo website, she fibbed on the submitting the wordcount button, inserted 6001 instead of the real 5301, it is a website, you can do whatever you want. Nobody cares and nobody counts. Anyhoo, maybe that is an incentive to write more, that and the extra hour what with the change in time. the one hour that pouffed somewhere, nobody really knows how this works. apparently all of china has one timezone, times zones are regulations anyways. how do you increment reality, how and how and how? Author ponders, maybe she should go out, take a look at the faculty show in the art school, it is not good to just sit in here and type and type. Gotta join the living ah the living. 25. Some more writing, ah, some more writing. this piece feels like an expanded twitter feed, after all it is all about the trials and the tribulations of the writer. One tweeter described himself aptly by using the words ―I like people to know when I am having coffee‖. In that spirit this novella for nanowrimo is definitely written along those lines, in that exact spirit. Though there is occasional fibbing involved, we change situations that are described at random. anyhoo, at this time writer here is back from an excursion to the mall, from the devouring of a whole cinnebun,
the bigger version. That should be all the calories we need for today, one big massive calorie bomb per day. all the sugar, all the frosting ye want, but that it is then, that it is. one big meal should do, the rest is fasting a-fasting. That is how we roll here roll. author ponders, she has 5624 words, can she up this to 7000 by the end of the day. 7000 in one big whoosh, yup, why not and why not and why not? 26. She inserted 6000 already into the nanowrimo wordcount, okay, she fibbed. We are not there at all, still gotta write, gotta type. Words ah words. good ones bad ones ugly ones. the music from the good the bad and the ugly in her ears, clint eastwood pre–dirty harry- or was it post-dirty harry. Anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. 27. 5717, which means 300 more will do, should do. the letters on the keyboard start a-swimming, writing is so dull so boring. Her shoulders are cramping up, even though she did not sit here at the keyboard for the last two hours. the feel of contortedness is cumulative, cumulative,. Even resting in between writing spurts dose not help. the body is not forgiving, non-forgiving, legend has it that hemingway did his writing while standing up, or maybe it was another one of the greats of literature. Another one of the grand old men- and btw they are all men. The greats have to be male, or else or else. that is how it is that is how it was. Women are few, so very very few. In any field, still that is still that is. we haven‘t come a long way, baby, not yet ah not yet not yet. not yet. and we do not have six thousand words here, not yet and not yet and not yet and not yet. 28.
Some more words ah some more words. fast ah fast. typing a-typing. Against the songs of the fridge, against the shadows outside. against the plant near the window, against the puddles on the deck. Against the stubbles on the chair outside, still branch=fragments, something like that something like that. you do not need to use the right words, you just need to use any kind of words. making up words is faster, so much faster. Still forty words left, to finish this ah to finish this. leaves in the wind, far away, far away. glistening, while moving, like little stars or something. tap down the keys, tap down the keys. Make sure that you are not losing it as of yet as of yet. 6010, ah great and oh great. six zero one six - six zero one six. 29. 6032, six oh three two. the day marches forward, sleepily, reluctantly. there are no grand stories waiting to be told here, the lot of the writer, anywriter that is, should suffice. the stories that the kitchen table tells yer, the fridge sings to you. the dishes rusting away near the sink, yesterday‘s food thickening, drying up. songs of the banal, the banal. A novel on the banal, the banal. 30. Six One Oh Two, Six One Oh Two. at this rate you will finish on november twenty-fifth. 31. More words ah more words. on the telly, big bang reruns, on Sunday it is always some kind of big bang marathon. Author here has seen this particular episode lots of times. now there is an ad on. Typing, ah, typing, typing. Outside the day comes silently to an end, the sun is slightly orange. or maybe it is the light on the orange leaves, late atumn leaves. Anyhoo, let us type here
and type here. 6196 words, should be easily doable to propel this forward to 7000. By the end of the day, by the end of the day. Now it is the scene in big bang where they are at the fundraiser. Now, Sheldon Cooper. And we type and type here. now it is the blossom lady, amy something, and we still keep on typing typing. Author here ponders, maybe a walk through the leaves would be good for her. writers always tend to roam through nature or, of couse, through watering holes. author ponders, how much longer can she go on and describe the day-ins and day-outs of writing. 32. She ponders if she would write for a newspaper or a magazine, her writing would be so much better. somebody would always be there to edit her stuff, so that it would be sellable, sellable. Writing for free, seems to be a futile endeavour. This whole quality over quantity maxim seems to be self-defeating. So what if you can churn out 50 000 words in a month, if there is no marketing and no money that exchanges hands, the writing in itself is useless. Author ponders, maybe simple supply and demand studies would be better than all of this typing away. after all, publishing is a business. What would be the target audience for all this waxing about writing. well, other writers would read it, but usually manuals about style are more lucrative. Treatises about writing. English teachers can use them. scholastic stuffi-muffi on writings. Anyhoo, we have 6451 words here, 6451, 6451, 645, 6451. 33. Write on and write on. modern family on the telly. now an ad. author had a nice tea in the way too crowded coffee shop on forty-first, after that a walk through the autumn fresh weather, and now it is typing again, writing again. propel this forward down to 7000, or is it up to 7000. Given
that the daylight savings time is over, it gets dark much earlier now, well, an hour earlier of course. Author types and types, we have 5540 here, no wait, 6543. 500 words left to 7000. And we write we type. It is tough to listen to what is going on on the idiotbox while trying to feed the words to the machine. And still no plot here, none whatsoever. Just a description of penning as many words as possible in a very short short time, a so very very short time. 6604 words, type on and type on and type on and type on and type on. Author ponders, she read this essay about modern family which asserted that modern family is all but modern, both the women are housewives, they rely on the money that the main breadwinner who is male makes. So very very fiftees. Furthermore, sofia vergara plays totally into the stereotype of the latina woman. and, hey, let‘s face it, which seventy years old man can really land a forty year old woman? anyhoo, we type here and type here, reviewing of tv-peopleshows is not really part of this novel. and it is a novel after all, mainly because we say so. the nanowrimo motto is if you think it is a novel than it is a novel. 6732, write on and write on. against the hurty pang in between the shoulder blades, against the contortedness, against this that and the other. the walk through the fresh air was great, wonderful, moving is the best antidote to writing, to writing. 6775, 6776. Write on and write on and write on and write on. now an ad for haircolor, now one for cough medicine. Maybe cold medication. And still typing still typing. Rob ford on the news. 6813. Still typing, still typing. Author here ponders once more what is the use of writing 50 000 words in one month, is it not merely just an exercise in typing? 34.
6859, 6860. Typing ah typing. An ad for a dyson vacuum cleaner, they sure are pretty cheap, what with making dyson himself the pitchman. Besides this all has been done before, what with lee Iacocca pitching for Chrysler. Back in the old days when Chrysler belonged, well, to chrysler. 6844, 6845. All of these words, all of these words. 200 or so, that is all we need to propel this forward to 7000. Actually, 80 is all we need here. now it is two and a half men, actually a very funny scene where the cab driver gives psychological advice to Charlie and Alan. 53 words, type on and write on, type on and write on. 33 words, that is all that stands between this and 7000 words straight. Now an ad for l‘oreal, now one for Maybelline. Maybe they are the same company, you can always google it. three more words, hooray, 7000 it is, 7000 it is, at this rate you will finish on november twenty-second. 35. Typing away while rules of engagement is on the telly. laughtracks laughtracks. And we write and we write here. some more words, yeah, some more words. seems all we do here is write about writing. and not even something borderline interesting. Writer flips through the channels, now the comedy channel. This person is definitely not very funny but the people in the audience laugh anyways. back to rules of engagement. 7087. And we write and we type. 43 000 words still needed, pretty tough if you do not have a story. 36. What to write what to write? that is the question. For some annoying reason the software does its own thing, it refuses to capitalize the first word at the beginning of the sentence. Well, about half of the time.
37. 7149. at this rate you will finish on november twenty-first. 38. One day of utter non-writing. that was yesterday. she ponders if she has to write double today in order to make up for the day of words that were not written. The day of lost words, the Monday of lost words. she had brunch though in this beautiful place called ―little nest‖, off commercial. The best muffin you will ever have, chocolate banana hazelnut, with powdered sugar on top, all this and a peppermint tea too. She had a tad of the polenta, the fried polenta and the very orange yellow omelette of her eating buddy, anyhoo, the experience was just out of this world out of this world. the place was so reminiscent of Bremen, Bremen in Vancouver. one of these days she will go there (little nest)again, though it is a tad too far, it is a whole fieldtrip, a days‘s journey. Some places you just go once, because the trek is way too much. those are the places that yeplpers write about, the once in a lifetime eats. Anyhoo, write on and write on and write on and write on. outside, rain or rests of rain, in here the sound of the typingish machine. She drove down to the coffeeshop on arbutus, then to granville island, then to the Y, then to oakridge, safeway stuff is waiting to be eaten. But first we write here write here. 7385, maybe we will propel this forward down to 10 thou. Ah the writing the typing. Gotta do this everyday, so very very everyday. Still no plot, but hey who really needs a plot. Just start typing a-typing. Stories, they are for the birdswhatever that means whatever that possibly means. stretch the phrases, stretch the sentences, fill the page, fill the pages. nanowrimo forever forever forever forever. 39.
7459, at this rate you will finish on December fifth or fourth. Author here does not remember it quite, but she is happy, seems that she did not lose that many days after all. apparently she had a headstart, on Sunday she waxed a lot, thus, she did not fall behind by that much. she overwrote on Sunday, that is why it does not really count that much that she lost a day. writing while counting the words, what a weird and strange concept. Author ponders, what makes half a million of this world‘s population participate in this? how many is half a million compared to seven billion? What percentage of the human population at this time? and is the number even right, she herself actually has three accounts, what with the glitches in the registration site. The registration site is not that functional, so you tend to over register until you get it right. Which might count for the presumably high number of participants, anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on and type on. 40. A fast walk through suburbia, suburbia in Vancouver. now typing again, while drops of rain amass on the railing outside. glistening, transparent, round, elliptic. The day of a writer, the days of a writer. Anywriter. Author walked through the confiserie named ―butter‖, all the people who worked there, wore pink. And then again, a walk back through the mush, by construction workers and landscapers, by those portable toilet thingies that always smell disgustingly. That have to be avoided at all cost, just make sure that you do not walk too close by them. all the construction people and all the landscapers are in hazmat suits, at least that is how it looks, this weather is definitely not good for construction, then again, you have to wear a lot of stuff anyways if you are constructing a building, hard hat, goggles, earplugs, work boots, overalls , the like and the like and the like and the like. when you write, you can wear whatever you want, then again, you have no steady paycheck at all. everything has its price, so it seems, so it seems, so it
seems. And how many words do we have here, seven eight two three, seven eight two three. For moments and moments and moments and moments. 41. Author ponders, she should write some paragraphs on how to order the words. how to title the passages. At this point, she writes a number at the beginning of each passage. The numbers are chronological, that is what editors seem to like. publishers want some kind of inner logic, whatever that is whatever whatever. There has to be beginning a middle an end. that is how writing is done. nevermind that channel surfing lives are ours, foremost and foremost. We do not stand still, we are always on the go. We walk in circles, lots of times, move and motion thru the world, on bike, on foot, on car, on train. airplane, flying saucer, what have you. short naps and then it is rummaging around and around again. till, you know, the ashes to ashes state. We talk to different people all thru the day, life is one big chat fest, one big cocktail party. Like speed dating, NEXT. Anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. author here ponders, the fridge sings, she will have a pop tart for lunch, tuna salad, ice cream. ah health ah health. And let us type and type and type and type here. 8056, ah well and ah well. 42. 8036. 43. 8065, 8066. She tends to misread the tiny blue icon, that happens, that happens. 44.
At this rate you will finish on December first. Which means that you just have to type a tad more, to finish for today. To finish up. to go home. she ponders, how many paragraphs does she really need here. to make it to make it. the website does the calculating, weird huh. so very very strange, this is what writing has come to. even writing a grocery list seems to be more creative at this point. after all it is mostly done in longhand, there is manual labour involved. There is the process of crumpling up the paper after you are done, tossing it out. analog, digital, ah who cares and who cares and who cares and who cares. Insanity is palpable, ah so palpable. 45. 8555, that seems to be the wordcount that she needs for today, so just write, just write. push down the keys, push down the keys. Until your fingers fall off, something like that, something of that kind, until your neck is too stiff from all this looking down, if she would write with ten fingers, she could just stare onto the monitor, then again, her eyes would start hurting from looking into the light of the monitor. Anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. 8287, not enuf, not yet and not yet and not yet and not yet. 46. 8302. 47. 8304, eight and three and oh and four. How to stretch the narrative here, the utter utter nonnarrative. The fridge sings, but we mentioned that already here. she feels like a pianist, she catches herself staring at the drops, the water droplets outside. the ones that hang from the black railing, like beads like beads. Nicely arranged in a row, yup, that is how it is how it is.
48. Still writing still typing. Now who was exactly right, Kerouac or Capote, ah who cares, type on here type on here. 49. Make this down to 50, mini-chapter 50. 50. Eight four oh three, eight four oh three. Maybe this would be enough, she should check it out on the website. Eight four two four, remember the number, remember the number. Ah the logistics of nanowrimo, so weird, so strange ah so strange. 51. 8447. 52. All her writings consist of numbers, for the most part here, for the most part. The fridge discontinues its songs, abruptly. The kitchen counter novel, the kitchen table novel. novel 2013, a grand story of, nuh, who knows and who knows. her writing, not that good today, coherence, ah, highly overrated highly overrated. Eight five oh two, not bad and not bad and not bad and not bad. Yup, not that bad at all at all. 53.
8526, write on and write on and write on and write on. you cannot really diminish the wordcount on the website, that would be kind of counterproductive, how tough can it really be to amass some more words. 5564, and we are outta here, outta here outta here outta here. 54. On the telly, governor Christie won the new jersey gubernatorial election. They are talking about if Hillary clinton and chris Christie would run against each other in 2016, who would win. No question, of course Christie would win, he is a very affable person. And, hey, his fatness works for him. anyhoo, keep on typing and typing and typing. 55. First thing in the morning, at the computer, at the computer. fire up the machine, feed your words to it. a short sojourn to the store to the Y, but now it has to be typing away typing away. still no plot, ah, never a plot. Let us call this fiction, sounds better than autobiography. Has a certain weight to it, one that autobiography does not have. and do not start me on journal, what is up with that? well, maybe , logbook is good, sounds like the writings of someone on an expedition, to the north pole maybe. yup, logbook is just fine, this is our first logbook-novel here. fabricated in november of 2013, the month of the novel writers. this is quite a silly undertaking, not as robust as the workings that are going on in front of the house. Well, more down the street, city workers in work boots and hardhats, in orange leathery overcoats have careened up the street, they are either pulling up a hole in the asphalt, something is going on there. the whole street is closed while workers are doing who knows what there. maybe tree trimmingish stuff, but it looked more like digging a digging-a-hole endeavour. the car that was driving around has a special name, not that author here knows what it is. and then there was the mailman who
delivered mail to her neighbours but not to her. that is what was happening, the woman in the coffee shon askled her twice to swipe the card. The man in charge of the grocery machines said something about the machine which required assistance, author here ponders, these are her interactions with people in this rainy novel writingish month. yesterday she talked with the cashier about memorizing numbers and alphabets, seems interesting, all these random talks, all these random philosophisings. Nyc has a new mayor as of today, and we type here and type here and type here and type here. 8977, write on and write on and write on and write on. pull this up to 9000, why don‘t you why don‘t you? five more and we are there we are there. yay, ah, yay and yay. the rhythms of the language all encompassing all encompassing. The songs of the fridge again and again and again and again. she ponders, there will be a talk by this artist, in the evening, in the art school. All she does is taking photos of the dust on the books in her apartment, that is what her oeuvre consists of. Should be quite interesting, yup, invigorating, author here has to miss it though, she will not be able to sleep in and sleep in, you cannot really wake up first thing in the morning if you are out until ten in the night. and the talk starts at seven thirty, gotta miss it miss it. photos of the dust on your books, hmm, something like my crib or a centerfold in architectural digest, a reportage of somebody‘s place, an interior. The decoration of a room, the forms, the space, the sights. The images are online anyways, the artist talking herself just makes it into a performance, theater. And we type here and type here, type here type here. on the radio, in the morning, a show about the beats, about allan ginsberg. And the fridge roars a-roars. Aroars a-roars. 9206, for now and for now and for now and for now. 56. On the telly, Isabella rosselini, in ―death becomes her‖. meryl streep, goldie hawn, the film was made in 1992, and it has two stars, a two star rating that is. it feels weird to see a cinematic film
first thing in the morning, it needs a theater, a dark audience room, the more theatrical than this sitting here at the laptop and typing. The film is very dramatic, very surreal. It needs darkness, night, it is definitely not an early morning film. Author had a greek tuna salad which feels weird too, vinegar at this time of the day, though, officially, it is near to eleven, though it is kind of noonish, well, nearer to noon than to earlymorning. and we type and we type and we type, inconsequential writing a-writing. she made a total mess here, the dishes are accumulating, it is not a good idea to stay at home once you are awake you have to leave the house, if you don‘t the whole place becomes a mess, it unravels fast. but if you are outside you are not there to mess up the place. anyhoo, we write and we write and we write here. how many words ah how many words. on the telly, all this screaming, all these nonsensical talks, no laughtracks, no laughtracks, all the pathos of the movie, weird and strange. the ominous music, violin, concerty symphony stuff. anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. 9468, still writing still writing. 57. This novel is so weird, the words are forced forward so very serendipitously. There is no planning, the ideas are formulated more or less by whatever is going on on the telly. that is what makes for the story, it is somehow an amalgamation of different novels. Mini novels, short snapshots. 9524, maybe, this will go to ten thousand by the end of the day. ten thousand, that would constitute a fifth of the novel. a fifth of the month of november. 58. Now the man in the film is strangling the Madeline person, she falls down the stairs, geez, what a stupid movie. The remote is, well, remote from the computer, so we just have to keep on typing while this annoying movie is filling the space with its noise, while it noise pollutes.
59. 9608, 400 more and 10 000 it will be, it will be. seems, that Meryl Streep is standing up again, while just having died, her head is backwards, now, there is a nice view, that can give you nightmares. Typing ah typing. All what this movie does is make dramatic noises, it is one succession of loud loud noises. 60. 9673, author here grabbed the remote, we can definitely change this ominous-music-film, maybe cnn would be better. no seinfeld at this time in the morning, you can of course do your writing in total silence, but that is not that good, not that good. you need some noise, some voices to somehow cheer the words forward, just like a soccer player needs an audience, someone has to cheer this on this on. it is way too boring anyways to type away, to fashion stupid inconsequential word constellations. Might as well watch goldie Hawn in orange and black flimmering over the screen on the idiot box. 9775, not 10 000 yet, not yet and not yet and not yet and not yet and not yet. nine seven nine seven, for now and for now and for now and for now. 61. 9813, nine eight one three, at this rate you will finish on December one, two thousand and thirteen. There is complete silence now on the telly, better than watching goldie hawn with a big hole in her body. that movie is definitely more like a horror movie, it scares the hell out of, well, everyone. BBC is definitely better, a talking head in a grey suit, a woman in blond and blue. 9885, write on and write on and write on and write on and write on. now iron chef america, the food channel seems to be the best choice at this time, butter, sugar, mascarpone. The right background music for typing a-typing.
62. Nine nine two seven, nausea is setting in, on the telly, the cooks, ah, the cooks. They talk more about what they are doing, instead of doing the cooking, cooking as entertainment, cooking as story. The mega narrative of making desserts, chocolate, an icing, powdered sugar. Eight more words, and we are there we are there. whipped cream, the mc in a bow tie. And now ads, watching food has to wait to wait. 10 000 exactly exactly. 63. November 30, 2013, we are outta here and outta here. 64. How I met your mother – on the telly. the episode where marshall does not have the visual aids in his presentation. Ted buys back all the charts he threw out, anyhoo, the only constant in this episode is the yellow umbrella. Author here ponders, how is this possibly a novel, it is all about what is on the telly. ah well, ah well. this novel sure will need a lot of heavy liftingish marketing. 65. Words remaining: 39 908. 66. Yes, there is an artist talk going on at the art school, she has to brave the traffic, the cold in order to get there. better to work on the word count for this very novel, this very amazingish novel. better to push down the keys than to burn gasoline, only to listen to a woman whose work is immensely documented online. Nothing new there norhing nada zip zilch. Moreso, author here is
not quite sure about the lights on her car, when do they really work. And, yes, it is cold ah cold. she might as well work on this her novel, some more words some more words, you know the drill. On the telly, an ad for dog food, an ad for the art institute of Vancouver. now an ad for chef gus, it is actually an ad for a frozen fish dinner. The chef taking a selfie, now another ad. ah ads and ads. Maybe she should go to the artist talk, maybe it will be interesting. Like going to the theater, like going to the movies. 10 276 10278. 67. On the telly, the king of queens. The episode where doug and carrie are looking for a new house, they are looking at the house with the dumb waiter. An ad for gilette the best a man can get. An ad for an anxiety medication, actually they want someone to participate in a trial. Now a diet pill, now an insurance. Maybe it would have been better if she would have listened to the talk, it is all about photographs with stickers on them. free entertainment, better then tapping away at the keyboard to no avail. What will really come out of this novel, what is it good for, what ah what. 68. At this rate you will finish this on november 29. Now the real estate agent on king of queens. Doug has half a moustache. Funny funny. the show is hilarious or something. better than the artist talk, which btw starts at seven thirty. a late show, huh. 10 441, just keep on sitting here just keep on typing typing. Gotta finish this novel, this is actually the fourth year she does this. 2009. 2011, 2012, 2013. 69.
Another king of queens episode. Two loads of laundry are awaiting to be folded, but, hey, gotta type gotta type. The top of page 33, huh, this is really going forward. her neck starts hurting, on the telly, Spence and deacon, it is really funny. you cannot really describe it, gotta see it. now a scene where holly is not the dog walker but a sales lady at a store for baby cribs. 10 544. Huh. 70. Now, family feud. And still another big bang episode. Yep, the singing of the telly against the typing. Still time to go to the artist talk instead of watching the idiot box and typing up mindless words. there is much to be learned from that artist, she is pretty successful, whitney biennale, tate modern, the whole shebang. An illustrious career, but hey, it is more productive to work on this novel, this non-novel, this f. borderline novel. the big bang is a rerun, the laptop is outta battery, we have 10 638 here, 10 641. 71. First thing in the morning, wide awake to pursue one‘s writing career. She has to be out of the house pretty soon, thus it makes total sense to catch up on the writing beforehand. Some words fast some words fast. Seinfeld is on, seems there is always Seinfeld on, the one with Kramer being in lala-land,, now the scene with the kid from the wonderland, wonderkids, wondertime, whatever it was. Wonder years, yup, that is what it was. Author sat way too many days cooped up here, preoccupied with all this typing, there does not seem an end in sight, she still has to do this four more times, she has 10 0000 words, we still need 40 000 here, then we are officially done, 4 times nanowrimo, no publishing contract, that is how it is that is how it is, hurl the words against the machine, whether they are read or not, who cares who really really cares. 72.
At this rate you will finish this on December third, so keep on typing keep on typing. One hour of typing away, that should do it do it. her neck starts hurting already, at the part where the neck meets the shoulder. On the right side, on the right side. Her right shoulderblade, a short pang, already already. first thing in the morning, contortedness, contortedness. she remembers writing in longhand, first thing in the morning, in bean bros, four years ago, maybe five. It was 2009, yep, that was it, her first participation in nano. 73. Fast writing fast writing. outside, all this commotion, congestion, people rushing to work, to school, inside here, the typing away, the typing away. outside, roadwork everywhere, children rushing to school, one can hear landscapers work, energy outside that should somehow translate into fast strwen words a-words. at one time she should write on the bus, or something or something. 74. Still gotta type a lot and a lot. author here had lots of errands to run, that is always good for writing. the walking around, the rushing around automatically translates into long typing sessions. 11 000 words is so near and so near. 11 003 it it is it is. 75. The telly, an ad for chocolate milk, now an ad for something called much dance 14, apparently a music cd. An ad for new charmin‘ huggy softs, and once more community, the show about a study group in a community college. it is now next to one in the afternoon, still typing still typing. 76.
In the kitchen, there are dishes amassing. Ah, the poetics of the everyday, gotta write about it, instead of, well, doing the dishes. The cliff hanger of how to do the dishes, when to do them, there should be ample fodder for one whole novel. after all, expectations are not so very high for any given novel that is produced during national novel writing month, the participation this year lies at about 200 000, 250 maybe, apparently, according to the nanowrimo website, but hey, let us face it, hardly any will be published. It is just writing for writing‘s sake. Writing in the same way that you would knit or embroider. If you print it out, you have some kind of object, yup, a book that is. and if there is no printing, the words will just float in the cloud. Ah might as well might as well. 11 210, type on and type on. at this rate you will finish on December seven, that is how it is that is how it is. outside, sunshine, in here, typing, fast and obsessive typing. Forward to 50 000, doggedly, diligently. It is like a race, a marathon, triathlon. now a penguin on the telly, an ad for visa. Penguins and credit cards there must be a logic behind showing them together. 77. Still writing, ah, still typing. Gotta deliver all these words, it is not feasible to procastrinate. Sorry, procrastinate. Gotta stay on top of things, all thru november, all thru november. The obsession of writing up this stuff, the sheer bare-knuckling-through. would be nicer to do this in a public place, what are coffee shops and libraries for, after all? because author here is not writing longhand any more, she cannot really take a pad with her and watch what is going on around her. she has to do this in increments, in steps, she has to wander through the world, train rides, malls, and then she has to come back to the typewriter and type up, what the world dictated to her. Thus her writing automatically becomes cruder, less spontaneous. It is now all done in steps, it is tough to make it flow rhythmically. Anyhoo, keep on typing, keep on typing, at least you can deliver the wordcount, fast and steady, something like that, something of that kind. No
need to pause, gotta type and type and type and type on. 11 467, for now and for now and for now and for now. 78. On the telly, once more a big bang rerun. The perfect background music to typing. And now, king of queens. Laughtracks smush this forward, a ―king of queens‖ rerun. Carry did not land a job she had interviewed for, she now wants to find herself, whatever that is. It sure is not the writing of an unpublished novel, author ponders if she should go out once more, outside there is all the inspiration a novelist needs. Inside here, there are only the sounds of the telly, the drugstore or the market, they provide more ammunition for words and for words. She just was on the thread that was all about dirty tricks to force the wordcount to 50 000, everyone of the novelists has her own way of making the sentences stretch some more. Nobody has problems in weaving a yarn, anybody can churn out words a-words. 79. Now a discussion between deacon and doug, though it seems the words are not that important, deacon is more interested in having a bite of doug‘s sandwich. 11 658, writing ah writing. 80. At this rate you will finish on December fifth, well, that will not cut it will not cut it. Still type on and still type on. Author here ponders, she could still go out, it is still early in the evening, but, hey, it seems more feasible to finish this ah finish this. maybe by now, she could be bothered to invent another character, another writer, a cartoonist, a painter, a musician. A different time maybe, in the past, in the future. a different timezone, at the very least, seattle. Chilliwack. Ah,
Burnaby or surrey, anyhoo, keep on amassing all these words all these words. the fitness centre would be good now, it is always chock full at this time of the day. so is safeway, long long lines. If nothing else works, one could go down to yvr, watch the planes talk off and/or land. And then there is downtown, the bookstore, it is open until eleven in the night. anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. writers block is not setting in as of yet, tonight there will be an allnight write-in at the rotunda in Simon Fraser university in Burnaby. Author writes on and writes on, 11868 words, not bad, huh, not bad at all, not bad at all. At this rate, well, let us look it up. December fourth, that is what the stats on the website say. 81. Well, seems that pub crawling is what all these writers tend to do, that is how the myth goes, the myth goes. Heavy liquor fashions the story, not staring out the window of a moving train, not being entertained by ever changing landscapes or cityscapes. Here in the lower mainland there is a lot of driving over the various bridges, too, all over the fraser river. Anyhoo, keep on typing atyping. 82. 11 974, write on and write on. make this march up to 12 thousand, it is day eight of the writing challenge, who cares about the quality of the words, quantity is all we need here. 12 010, wow, great ah great. 83. Another king of queens episode. Doug and carrie looking for a parking space. 84.
Still December four, but luckily we have more than 1100 words here already. for the day. 12 047, now this is the episode of king of queens where the new guy is not inviting doug. 85. Still typing, still typing. Author ponders, she should get a tuna salad, a greek one and a pear, down in safeway. It helps her stick to her weight loss diet, the night is always bad for sticking to your diet. Author always goes on this fitness blog called runcouchpotatoesrun, it is really funny, it is based in greater zurich, the problem being is that the writer of it has not lost anything for the last two years. it is very entertaining though and pretty motivational. 12 150, random words and random words. 86. December 3, 2013, that is when the novel will be finished at this rate. Thus, just keep on typing a-typing. How tough can it be to make perfect wordcount for the day. 87. 300 words in one sitting, while the laughtracks holper over the screen. An ad for pizza, an ad for cough medication. An ad for a tv-show, an ad for Toyota. An ad for, wait, the museum of flight. An ad for a phone service or an internet service. still another tv-show, and back to king of queens it is it is. 88. Heffernan, what is going on? the boss and doug, it is still the episode about the barbecue. Carrie is trying to make friends in the office, so is doug at the ips-place. funny, huh, funny.
89. Still, December three, keep on typing, keep on typing. 90. Carrie alienates a woman in the office, now it flashes to doug and the other driver getting into a fight while paddling on a lake. 91. 12 328, 12 329. One person on the dirty tricks to increase the wordcount thread on the nanowrimo website would make a space in a word where there is no space so basically writing stuff wrongly helps increase the worcount. And of course the always beloved writing a number in words trick, yup, that is how you make it to 50 000 in one month. 12 390, frt now and for now and for now. 92. Still, December 3, 2013. Ah the horror the horror. 93. 100 more words, one thousand more words. if you do not type each and every day, then you have to work extra hard on other days. she missed about two writing days, maybe three, that is why we have to will this forward, doggedly, doggedly. Ah to sit contorted, ah to be hunched over and type and type and type and type. 94.
An ad for a coffee, mc café. I‘m loving it. 95. Modern family. 96. 12 490. 12 492. 97. Yup, still a funny show here, the laugh tracks will force the story forward. Though, technically, there are no laugh tracks on Modern Family. It is a constant jumping around between different scenes, basically between the three families. Three subplots, huh. so that is how we fashion a story here, plot, subplot, something of that kind. 12 551, still writing still writing. now, ads, maybe, those are the subplots. An ad for burt‘s bees. 98. 12 570. 99. 12 573. 100. 12 576, December two. 101.
All this writing makes her chest knot up. people get a hear attack while writing, so it seems so it seems. 102. Still typing, still typing. While modern family is going on. 103. 12 617. Fast words fast words. she still has to change the space where the car is parked, and she still has to feed all these words to the machine. On a Friday nite. An ad for vancity, an ad for lotto 6/49. 104. An ad for voltaren emulgel. It is good for when you have problems with moving, when you muscles hurt. And words and words. that will not really happen, if you do not have the right stories the right stories. 105. 12 698. 106. 12 700. 107. 600 words, that is all we need here. 108.
The novel writing is getting to her. and we have an ad for minty chocolate drink, something Christmassy. An ad for a beer, nope, an ad for wisers whiskey. An ad for chocolate, an ad again for voltaren. But still a measely 12 755, we still have to type on and to type on. 109. Why is this going so slowly. maybe making up fictional places would be good, it is kind of weird though to do this, halfway through the story. And there has to be some inner logic to why there will be different places. Maybe, she can follow some fictional characters, some nanowrimoers, after all there are about 200 thousand of them, yup, believe it or not, two hundred and something individuals have registered for this writing extravaganza. The world over, in five continents. 110. Now a master chef food show. 111. The cooking show is pretty good, full of cliff hangers. The music is fast-paced. The contestants are supposed to cook a three course meal in under ninety minutes which is quite an undertaking. The contestants are barely fifteen, maybe twelve. 12 900, and we write here and write here. the novel, ah, the novel. it is taking shape, but, hey, there is not really a story arc, it is more a documentary about different writing spurts. A journal, something like that, something of that kind. A merci commercial, an ad for yoghurt. all these short thirty second stories, a novel in thirty seconds, that is what a commercial is. an ad for x-box one. an ad for the workout to conquer cancer, for lifesaving research. 12 983, 12 984, 12 985. 112.
12 990. We need 400 words, maybe 500 here. the loud telly, the fast paced ness of the cooking show. A lot of applause, there are so many people in that studio. On the bleachers. Cooking as a football match, and the music is underscoring the fast cooking. Cooking against deadline, which is actually how cooking is always done anyways. the running around all these stations where fire is burning, the chopping, yup, the handling of sharp knives. Fine motor skills, fine motor skills. The music would do any james bond movie proud. An ad for Philadelphia, an ad for a news show. An ad for a restaurant, actually, dairy queen, well, still a restaurant, a fast food restaurant. Author is rambling here, how many words ah how many words. 13 120, this should be doable doable. We sing you eat, this is the funniest tv commercial you have ever seen. Author ponders, if she would have used the words ―you have seen in your life‖ versus ―you have ever seen‖, she would have used up so many more words. at least double, six words versus three words. it is all about the economics of the words here, it is a race, a race. Author ponders, Gilligan‘s island must be on on me-tv, maybe that would be better than watching a cooking show here. 13 214, some more words ah some more words. gotta write and gotta write, adrenaline kicks in when writing when writing. flee or flight syndrome, fast towards the final goal the final goal. Now, they are plating their dishes, at least that is what people are cheering them on for. 13 264, gotta type gotta type. Gotta type gotta type. 13 275, still need about 80 more here, something like that something of that kind. The foods are plated, it is kind of tough to look at the keys on the keyboard while trying to follow the stories on the telly. 12 314, the girl with the red bow, talks about the tuna appetizers that she prepared. Two appetizers, impressive.
13 333, that should do should do. for today and for today and for today and for today for today. 113. Write on and write on and write on. 114. 13 359. 115. 13 361, november 30, 2013. 116. On the telly, a movie with Christopher plummer and susan Sarandon. Emotional actobatics or something, not a so very good film, a movie about inconsequential stuff. author here prefers films on good stuff, on bigger ideas, not some meticulous psycho drama that tries to show people‘s emotions. And we type here and we type here. 13 428 words, still gotta type gotta type gotta type gotta type. 117. 13 441. 118. December second, that is when the novel will be finished, at this rate. Seems doable doable. 119.
Actually, it is December fourth, author here did enter the wordcount wrongly, wrongly, off by one thousand words. 120. The movie is full of annoying scenes, no wonder it only got two stars. A low budget, sloppily executed narrative. 121. 13 503. 122. The film is full of ominous music, seems all a film needs is ominous music and a very ununderstandable story. And one location that is cheap, in this case a farm and in the case of ―murder she wrote‖ sorry, ―death becomes her‖, a nice house. And big-namr actors, because they are always a box-office-draw. Who finances these weird stories? It is all a case of extra monies poured into extra stories that are not needed. what is needed is our novel here, the 120 thousand or so novels by all the nano writers. that is exactly what the nanowrimo-site says, yup, the motto is THE WORLD NEEDS YOUR NOVEL. that is how it is how it is here. and 12 620 it is it is. on a Saturday morning in november november. 123. The old man in the film must be max von syndow or whatever his name is. and still some more ominous music some more ominous music. 124.
Now an infomercial for a belt that is good for your back pain, a supportive belt. 125. At this rate you will finish on December three. 126. The belt is a decompression belt, whatever that means, it just puts pressure on the hips and the back. it helps you when standing. 127. Actually, the belt is called de-stress belt. Actually, doing physical activity will give you the same kind of result. Hitting the gym, that kind of stuff. 128. Six oh six in the morning, it is so insane, waking up first thing in the morning, only to write to write. it is like taking a red-eye-flight, your inner clock is screwed up, because, yup, we have to type up a novel, a non-novel. 129. Still the commercial for the back pain belt, the one that you pump up. 130. 13 805, we still need about seven hundred words in order to meet the daily requirement for writing 50 000 words this month. 131.
Still writing, still typing. 132. Six twenty-five in the morning, it should get light outside by now. suthor ponders, what to write on, what ah what. 133. It is all about numbers, counting the words, especially if you have nothing new to say. then again, no story is really new, everything has been done before. all the stories have been told, so it seems so it seems. 134. Now an infomercial for some potion that will make you look like cindy Crawford. Hm, maybe, you should shoot for better genes, you do not really need some kind of weird potion. All you need is a laptop and the ability to type up your amazingish novel, that is an anti-aging device of there ever was one. once your novel is finished you are happy, even if the novel is pretty crappy, even if it is not even a real novel. the accomplishment in itself makes yer happy happy. It might not be literature in the real sense, but it is a stab at writing, a story will crystallize automatically automatically automatically. 135. Now a film about rappers, but it seems to kind of depict the scene as full of Mafiosi. The glamour of studio 54 and opulence and decadence. A movie for the masses that subscribes to the maxim that glamour and crime go hand in hand, basically positing that good looks equal moral decay, this is a movie geared towards the bible belt. Anyhoo, we type here and type here and
type here. yup, a movie for the country mouse that has as message ―city mouse sucks‖. Author ponders, she is getting good at elevator pitches, a 4 hour film in two words, a 1000 word piece in a formula, that is what you do when you write a query. 14 000 words and then some then some then some then some. all that glitters, that is the name of the film, it is actually an episode of a tvshow. And we still write here and write here. against the cold day outside, against the early daylights, against and against and against and against. Composing a piece in the morning, a slight symphony, an animation that will never ever be. 14 200, for now and for now and for now and for now. one of these days she will write about the animator out of the animation studio, far away from the light tables, with no animation stand to shoot a film. With drawings that gather dust somewhere in the basement the basement. A filmmaker without camera, that kind of stuff that kind of stuff. 136. 14 268. At this rate you will finish on December Two. 137. Well, maybe we should feed the rest of our words here to the machine, better to finish this up, so that the rest of the writing can be done on Sunday. it is like a deadline, it is as if she has to write for a newspaper, right copy, write a sports report. Any kind of report, call it journalism call it anything you want. Ar report for national novel writing month, yup, something like that something of that kind. A great book and any book is great. short scenes while watching a blog, pictures from stockholm and Gothenburg, fashion shoots behind the scenes for an online shoe company called vagabond, a film that does not really work, anything to keep your mind off of this writing. 14 401, at this rate, huh, who knows who knows, who really really really knows.
138. Still gotta write some words, that is what this novel needs. The novel of 2013. After all, author here is a serial nanowrimo participant, this is after all the fourth time that she attempts to pen 50 000 words in one month straight. If push comes to shove, we only succeeded once, the other three times it was a total failure. And once, in 2010, we did not even try. Yup, we, the royal we. Author here refers to herself either in the third person or she uses the royal WE. Basically this is a stylistic tool to mimic cinematic stylistic devices, because in film there is an overlay of point of narration, flashbacks and the like. author here ponders if the way that she tells the story is way too confusing, if the inner logic that she herself sees is way too convoluted and thus way too confusing for the reader. And it seems that it would be even more difficult if she would describe different characters and different subplots. Everything is supposed to make sense, everything should mimic reality somehow. or at least make an attempt to mirror reality. Anyhoo, on the telly it is the show in the middle, author ponders if there is something like overexplaining. If you want to make everything cristal clear to the reader you change types of writing, genres, you change from the category of literary fiction to the category of non-fiction. Though, arguably there are all those grey areas, those grey areas between all the different classifications in literature. Anyhoo, be this as it may, seems, we have finished the required wordcount for today here, thus, we are outta here and outta here. on the telly there is a show called project Guatemala, whatever that is whatever that is. seems to be some kind of reality show. And we have 14 725 words here, at this rate the finishing date of this novel is December 1, 2013. Ooops, still gotta write still gotta write. 139.
Writing makes her sick, makes her teeth hurt. hopefully a cold is not doing her in, after all she still has to feed all these words to the machine. Gotta follow through, gotta write and write and write and write. she had a too busy day, not good, gotta always make time for writing. every free moment. On the telly, a film by the same guy who made supersize me. A short google search, wow, he sure keeps busy. He went to tisch, he churns out film after film. And we type here type here type here type here type here. 14 856, still typing a-typing a-typing a-typing a-typing a-typing and a-typing. 140. Maybe, we can make up for the rest of the words tomorrow. if we stay inside, if we focus on feeding all these words to the machine. Gotta write even if it kills us here. how do you spell obsession. 141. Maybe this is some kind of runner‘s high, more like a writer‘s high. It sure feels like insanity insanity. Today she was in metrotown, it was utterly exhausting exhausting. A mall does that to you what with all those people in there. a woman overtalked at her, gave her all that info on bookstores. Bookstores this and bookstores that. well, that was more than we wanted to know here. 142. 14 978, will this never end ever ever ever?
143. 14 988. Words written today: 1629. One six two nine. 144. All these numbers are killing us here. on the telly, corner gas. 145. 15 013. 146. At this rate you will finish on november 30. Yippieh. 147. Ok, might as well, might as well. take stabs again at writing, on an icily Sunday in early mid november. Might as well feed the words to the machine, while the washer sings its songs, while laundry has been folded already, while the day mousers along, quietly, while this is happening and that is happening, while her back hurts like always, while the day marches forward, silently so silently. The mall was full so full, so was the Y, everybody badmingtonning along badmingtonning along. People were streaming down the stairs in the Buddhist temple on fortyninth, the day was doing its thing its thing. A piece of chocolate, actually two, down in the place in front of the art books in the mega store, looking through max beckmann‘s oeuvre while sipping peppermint tea. Who would have known that he did a lot of black and white stuff, drawings, prints, lithos, all through the course of the Weimar republic. Ah, the bookstore, so nice
and so nice and so nice and so nice and so nice. 15 197. How many do we still need here need here need here need here need here. 148. She feels slightly sick, seems that happens whenever she starts a-typing. Must have to do with her aversion to sitting still in a darkened room, could be psychosomatic or something like that, ah the words and the words and the words and the words. 149. 15 264. 150. Fifteen two six seven. 151. write on and write on and write on and write on and write on. 152. at this rate you will finish on December third. She feels like raiding the fridge, there is a whole brie, double-fat, not good for the dieter here, gotta weightloss around, you know what with advanced age, what with bad kness, what with all those health annoyances. Everything is crunching up in the old machine, she is not well-oiled anymore, not by default, there are teeth to be repaired, there is a lot to be repaired. Gotta always sprint around the neighbourhood, gotta go for a walk a walk.
153. Somehow the software acted up, she lost about two hundred words. did not save it, because suddenly there was part of another word document mixed up with this current word document. Which is not good, how could that even happen. The machine eating the words, mixing up the words, at random at random at random at random. but now, everything seems to be hoky dory, 15 440 words, 15 444. 154. Nanowrimo stats. words to finish on time: one four six six. sorry, one six four six. at this rate you will finish this on December third, two thousand and thirteen. Days remaining: twenty-one. current day: ten. Words remaining: thirty-four five five one. total words written: one five four four nine. Target average words per day: one six six seven. Target word count: 50 000. Words written today: four two four. Your average per day: 1554. And then there are graphs, pie charts, block charts, all kind of charts on the stats page. and it changes every moment, this is only the stats for this particular word count, on november ten, at five five five pee em. Numbers and words, in some weird and strange correlation. Maybe that is why this novel sucks ah sucks. 155. Another commercial, one for sofas in boston. 156. An ad for shoes. 157.
You guessed it, no plot no plot. Just typing for the sake of it, in order to finish the wordcount, the word count. 158. A narrative will chrystallize, by accident, that is how creative endeavours usually work. Or not, there are no rules, really. 159. Author here feels nauseated, slightly ah slightly. 160. 15 650, this text marches forward, so very very slowly. 161. Now a movie called the great debaters. 15 666. And still writing still typing a-typing a-typing. 15 676. At this rate you will finish on December second. 162. It is another show, an abandoned plant somewhere in Detroit. It is actually a cooking show. A ghost plant. 163. 15 707 words, still write on and write on. mostly she will fill the required word count by cheering herself on. this is not an interesting enough subject matter. Writing on writing, maybe she should learn more about literature in general. But on the other hand, you learn by doing, you
write a novel by just starting somewhere, by dredging forward, somehow the words will fall into place, they should and they should. Now it is Anthony bourdain in a diner, having a hotdog. Practice makes perfect, that is what they are saying on the telly. a hot dog as symphony, there is even background music, a symphony, Detroit‘s buildings floating in light. You can tell all kinds of stories with cinematic devices, words are so simple so abstract, how can they possibly compete with the light shows of timebased media. Then again, literature is a time-based medium, but, hey, not visual, not visual enough. 15 861, moving forward ah moving forward. 164. Now two persons talking in a diner, lots of people, the restaurant is filled to the brim. A conversation while a camera crew is filming, they talk about Detroit. Now they show an art project which is really pretty. 165. Even the car that drives around is beat-up. 166. More words more words more words. 167. 15 926, how many words do we still need here, last year this went much faster, much more flowingly, we had 50 000 in half a month. this year, it seems, even meeting the daily word count seems to be a chore, she dredges the text forward, forcedly, forcedly.
168. Still writing, still typing, hey, will this never ever end. the words so clumsily so clumsily. Maybe it is because this laptop is too low, maybe that is why the words shuffle, keep drawing their weight so slowly instead of dancing onto the page, eloquently, harmoniously, musically. Her writing ah her writing, if you come from the visual arts you are bound to have problems problems. You try to make words sing, dance, that is a tad tough, yup, a tad too tough. but, hey, gotta try gotta try, after a while the words will take over, the lingo itself will propel the narrative forward, inspiration, shmeh. It is always transpiration, always, always, the sheer will is enough and enough. there are as many theories as there are writers, there are all these clichés. 16 110, write on and write on and write on and write on and write on and write on. 169. December one, two thousand and thirteen. Now firemen and the chef-guy they are talking about crab cakes while they are making crab cakes while they are being filmed. Huh, usually nobody is filmed while cooking or while eating. What a funny show, but it is borderline entertaining. Maybe in the same way that this text is entertaining, no bells, no whistles, just a march forward, slowly steadily. And we have 16 199 here, yay and yay and yay and yay and yay. still writing ah still writing. now an ad for a film about the kennedy assassination, yup, it is that time of the year again. where were you when, author here definitely remembers that, wow, as if it was yesterday. what happened to all those days in between, time flies time flies and flies and flies and flies. 170. 16270, at this rate you will finish on December first. 16 280, write on and type on type on. the cookingish documentary makes yer hungry, how come all those people who are eating are skinny
ah skinny. So are the cooks. Maybe talking about food uses up enough energy to makes you stay utterly slim. All the plating makes you stay slim. All the thinking about food, the different kinds of foods. Anyhoo, keep on writing and writing. 16 438, this goes arguably so very very very slow. 271. 16 359, still not there still not there. the website dictates when she can finish this up, what if the machine is wrong, maybe we should not machines take over to count the words. 272. 16 396, still writing still typing. 16 400, 16 402. Writing while ogling the wordcount icon, constantly constantly. 273. Still the show on Detroit. It is about a Detroit mower gang, they mow the abandoned parks. Pretty good, you have to keep the city afloat somehow. life goes on goes on, well, it is surely a good story for this film, for this documentary. 274. Now, a sports show, a soccer player maybe, no, it is a tennis player apparently talking into the microphone. Or maybe the first person was a soccer player, this one is nadal talking, it is a tad of talk about the us open, now it is about argentine`s first soap box derby or something, the film is nice, a soapbox car that looks like an egg carton. Now an ad for who knows what, seems it is about fashion, nope it is and ad for dupond. Anyhoo, type on type on type on type on.
275. Now, asia business report, the same music at the beginning of the show as always. predictable music that announces the news show, the predictable same announcer. They hardly ever change the logo, so that people are used to this particular news show brand, weird, huh, given that the news is different every day. the stuff that happens around the words in manageable chunks, anyhoo, keep on typing and typing. Devastation in the Philippines, tsunami storm, so horrible horrible. 276. The taifun in the Philippines, so torridly horrible. 277. Pix news at ten, wow, governor Christie sure lost a lot of weight. 278. Now they talk once more about the weight of Christie. 279. Now about the nyc mayoral race, de blasio. 280. November 30, finally finally, ah finally finally. 281. A new day, some words fast fast.
282. 16 693, at this rate you will finish on December third. 283. She might as well feed some more words to the machine, fast, hurriedly, hauntedly, while she is waiting here. waiting and writing, those two might as well go hand in hand. words to fill the gaps in our daily lives, yup, that is what words seem to be for. fill the air with idle chatter, in this case fill the cloud with idle chatter. Like texting to yourself, like texting to the world. narrativeless stuff, random observations. A chain of random observations, a necklace of little similar beeds. Random observation beeds. Anyhoo, outside, reluctant sun, the overcast sun of a november eleventh. Remembrance day here in Canada, maybe veteran`s day down in the states. So it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems. 284. So today is november 12, which means it is 11.12.13., a sequential date. Apparently people take that as a good date for marrying, at least that is what the pix news people are saying while laughing. Now they are talking about lack of sleep and how it will effect your appearance. The autocorrect on the document page admonishes author here to spell the word with an ``a`` not an ``e``, she should write AFFECT instead of EFFECT. Maybe that is true, who would try to argue with autocorrect. 285. The wordcount ah the wordcount the wordcount. It is the middle of the nite, well, 4:43 actually. It is early early early morning here, the news show on the telly though is in eastern standard time,
thus it is 7:48 over there in. apparently, it is the first snowfall in new york city, some flakes, the weather lady says that the big chill will be overnight. Anyhoo, we type and type here, some more words ah some more words some more words some more words some more words. 286. 17 022, at this rate you will finish on December six, two thousand and thirteen. The nanowrimo site cannot be wrong, thus just keep on typing and typing and typing and typing and typing. 287. One can see the snow in new york city on the telly, wow, snow and it is only november twelve. 288. Writing writing while watching the news in nyc, lots of talk about the light snow, you can see the flakes on the screen. 289. Five oh seven five oh eight here, author here had hardly any sleep, maybe three hours, that is definitely not enough, if you cannot think straight, the words will suffer suffer. 290. 17 135 words, write more and write more and write more and write more and write more. 291.
At this rate you will finish on December fifth. Now on the telly, snow snow. well, it is warm and toasty here, now an ad for Hershey kisses. An ad for fast-acting advil. Now an ad for finish dishwashing detergent, and now an ad for floor-liners. 292. Once more they talk about the date. Eleven twelve thirteen. 293. What to write about first thing in the morning when you have not slept enough but when you wake up at the brink of dawn and feel compelled to pen your masterpiece or at least work on your masterpiece, after all you have to will the words forward, gotta court inspiration, if you put in the work, at some point magic might happen and the right kind of succession of words will kick in, ah, give me one moment in time, remember that song from the Seoul Olympics, anyhoo, now an ad for some kind of coffeemaker, nespresso, Penelope Cruz is endorsing it, what does she have to do with the coffee, will you suddenly look like her when you brew the espresso, huh, huh, huh, huh. 294. 17 338, at this rate you will finish on December five. Maybe, sleep would be good, after all this typing machine is not going anywhere as of now. gotta amass all of these words, gotta stretch the sentences in order to fill the pages here, in order to fulfill the requirement of the wordcount for national novel writing month. writerish calisthenics, gotta flex those literary muscles, again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.
295. Now the early morning news in the lower mainland, switching from nyc news to bc news. No snow flurries here, slightly milder weather, but, hey, it is still fall, still fall, still fall, still fall here. 296. Mild rain in downtown Vancouver, ah, what is new, what is new. When is it not raining in this town, it is always wet here, comes with the territory, comes with the territory. Typing up all of these words, we have 17 509 here, writing for writing`s sake ah typing for typing`s sake. An exercise in futility, yuh, maybe and maybe, a construct of words, a mobile of utterings, that is what writing is, always, ah, always always. wordiness, ramblings, songs, poetry, literature is never functional, that is how it seems how it seems. Pure art, something like that something of that kind. We have 17 573, at this rate, ah, forget it, forget it forget it forget it. 297. Six o`clock on the morning news. 298. And now it is eight in the morning. once more the news, author here has seen all these news clips about two hours ago, maybe three. A fast drive to safeway, to the Y, now it is back at the laptop. Might as well, the weather was really nasty, driving was tough. when turning another car was coming in the ongoing traffic, and then there were two pedestrians, luckily nothing happened, but that particular turn is always tough, maybe author should not use that intersection anymore, it is kind of a dangerous intersection and not very well planned out, not and not and not. once an
ambulance suddenly came out of nowhere, that particular turn is bad, there is always something there, it is too busy with too many lanes. Anyhoo, type on type on type on type on type on. 299. 17 737. 300. At this rate you will finish on December four. 301. Write on and type on, feed the words to the machine, fast fast fast fast. 302. Now a music video on the telly, author here is falling slightly asleep while typing away, constructing a novel, feels like physical work, like knitting maybe, like bricklaying maybe, it is not that physically trying, is definitely not hard manual labour, then again, the ever impending carpal tunnel is exhausting, and the repetitiveness is both agonizing and soothing, weird, so strange. on the telly katy perry and the roar song. Now a new Eminem song maybe. 303. 17 842. 304. Eat st. pounds of pulled pork. All kinds of food trucks. you get hungry just watching this. duck confit in front of city hall in san Francisco. Crispy tofu.
305. Ah, daytime telly, actually morning telly. once more eat street, ah, actually it shows a foodtruck here in vancitay, author has never seen it in real life, where as she has seen the portland ones in real life. now it is Hoboken new jersey. Oh, forget about it. ay, forget about it. 306. 17 928. 307. December four, wow, still gotta make up lotsa words. nothing to say really here, still no plot ah still no plot. 308. 17 953, huh. 309. The rest of today`s writing has still to be thrown at the monitor so that the required wordcount is met. Even if there is no clearly defined subject matter here as of yet, the sentences themselves will take the course that the narrative goes forward. basically, this will always be a text that interrogates the gist of writing, what it takes to fashion a text, what are the components of a text. Coming from the visual arts the author is used to examine forms, lines, to a lesser extent colours. This kind of interest in examining the elements of visual formgiving translates readily to an interest in examining the elements that make for a coherent and well constructed text. On the telly, the food channel, different restaurants, different cooking styles. A cooking show as
entertainment, as fascinating as a james bond movie. Entertaining like a thriller. Especially because of the fast-paced kind of jazzy music. Anyhoo, keep on typing a-typing a-typing atyping. And 18 121 it is it is, 310. We still have to write so much more, mainly because the writing was not done on the day before. if you miss even one day of writing you fall so much behind, you have to stay at the computer basically the whole next day. thus, never miss a day, sprinkle the whole day with writing spurts, slow and steady, that is how this is done here, especially if you fly without a plot. 311. December three, aha, this is coming along. On the telly a show about a breakfast place in Calgary, Alberta, at this point they are making a hollandaise sauce, now they are browning the potato, now, two poached eggs, ah, eggs benny eggs benny. Now a different recipe, it is just fun to watch how they put it all together, maybe we can learn something here, how to put a novel together, some different characters, some different locations, some subplots, stir it all together and voila, you gotta read this. 312. 18 291. 313. 18 295. Each word counts each number counts. 314.
Ah, still gotta heap the words up onto the keyboard. While the day happens outside, while the rain stops pouring down, while snow flakes stop over new york city. Or have stopped a long time ago, after all it is now afternoon over there. three hour time difference, that kind of stuff. we have 18 357 here, on the telly crepes in a polish restaurant. 315. And now, still another cooking show, ah, the food channel is cooking show galore, 316. It is eleven oh two, not even lunchtime yet. watching all these food shows is not conducive to a slimmer waistline, you tend to make your way to the fridge, automatically, if you watch all these food shows. 317. Still gotta write three days worth of words. while watching cooks making lasagna, while feeling slightly nauseated. There are more fascinating ways to fill a day, writing is so pretty dull, there is nothing happening, just the stabbing of the keys, just the letters on the monitor. 318. Still writing still writing. still stuck in the December three space, clustered in, when will this ever end. 319. Just like running a marathon, step after step after step. One foot before the other, not that author here has ever run a marathon. But she sure has written long long passages, all through the last
five years. letter after letter, word after word. forays into lit land, hasty ones, solemn ones. easy does it, slowly does it. gotta take your time, let the words ferment, in the basement, like good vine, that kind of stuff that kind of stuff. type away, do not give in to the urge to barf all over the keyboard. And we are typing here and typing here. words written today: 1900. 320. Still remaining in the ``at this rate you will finish on December third`` land, how long does this take, how long ah how long, how long. 321. Still typing still typing. 18 630 words, still more needed for today. 322. The news at five, Vancouver news, whistler news. Apparently there will be recycling recaptacles for cigarettes butts in downtown, apparently the first program of this kind in the world. and then there are more wedding films about people who marry today on 12-11-13. And next year there will be more weddings that will fall on a Saturday with the date of 12-11-14, no, that does not seem right. She can google which date they mean, but hey we have to type this up type this up first. 323. And we type type. Still news about rob ford and toronto, he kept signing bobble heads of himself, there are people supporting him and then there are those that call for his resignation. 324.
18760, where are we now, the website will tell, should tell. 324. Seems, she has to write one thousand and two hundred words more to meet the wordcount requirement for today. So keep on cracking, all those words will not write themselves. on the news it shows various views of commuters rushing home, all the highways, aerial pictures, aerial films. people on their commute home, after all, they are not typing up their novels at home, their office is not the living room, the kitchen table, not everybody runs a cottage business. And how do you keep happy running a cottage biz, a cottage non-biz, after all, you do not have co-workers, you just say hi and bye to the baristas all over town, you interact with all the sitcom-persons, the life of a writer is ah so boring ah so boring. A cottage smack in the city, how do you survive that, and btw, how do you survive the amassing of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. That is the question, of course, the eternal question. Nanowrimo though is pretty social, though more social online. There are writerly meetings though and she usually goes to at least one. last year, there was the transit write-in, she will do that this year too. she should, it will help her flesh out this non-story for this very novel. 18 988, keep on typing and typing, against the news, against the darkness outside, against stagnation, against whatever. The sentence with ``against`` is always interesting, the A versus B element shows some kind of impending potential conflict, a clashing of different forces, the idea of something new coming out of that, there is potential movement, an antidote of stagnation that is suggested if you put forces that are opposites or at least slight opposites in a sentence together. author ponders, hey, maybe she could make a living teaching people how to right novels, how to construct novels, after all, the old saying suggests that those who can`t do, teach. And we have 10 099 here, still news from the typhoon in the Philippines. 19 109, still writing writing writing writing writing writing writing.
The woman on the news is pretty, her poster was everywhere, when she started out. now it is the news clip that was shown before, author must have seen this particular one about five times before, earlier in the day.19 157, we still need 800 here, that is when we can stop this constant feeding of the beast, that is when the insanity can stop for moments, only to start up tomorrow g again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. There are dirty tricks for how to amass all these words, apparently if you describe real live characters, then you can make them move around, to different locales, different rooms, different cities, countries, continents, you can describe what happens to them in transit, while they are changing their respective standpoints, their geographical points, furthermore, you can make them interact, talk to each other, there can be conflict, conflict that is either realty-based, informed by the real world or totally surreal. You can describe the world of theater or any other work world, you can of course describe different writers, all the different writers on national novel writing month. after all, they share their lot on the nanowrimo site, all the two hundred thousand or so current participants of this writing extravaganza. The ones in Gothenburg, the ones in the five boroughs in new york city. you do not need to travel anywhere, physically, you can read up about the goings on at the different write-ins, there is an online community, it helps to read up about people who do exactly what you do, you feel that you have your personal pompom girls, you are not alone, and actually the same holds true if you want to lose weight, you make sure that you read weightloss blogs, it makes you stick to your diet. Your diet. Though, author here let that slip in november, she has gained three pounds in the last four weeks, gotta get back on the horse, be much more diligent, we have to stick to the weight loss program, health is important, even if you write a lot of daily words, it cannot be bad for your health. Too much weight is bad for the knees, they do not like it, when you are young, you can move easily around, whatever you
weigh, that changes once you hit middle age, old age, you have to be more vigilant, you have to have your five-a-day, something like that, something of that kind, you have to do your daily walk in fresh air, that is how it seems that is how it seems how it seems how it seems. No more cappuccino with sprinkles, no more pumpkin spice lattes in this time of the year. on the telly, Pamela wallin, braseau, senator duffy, the three disgraced senators in the canadian parliament. Anyhoo, still typing still typing typing. 19 593, type on type on. more words ah more words, a commercial for skittles, one for Chevrolet. Buy a car buy a car. drive around and after that an ad for an anti-fracking group. Buy cars, use energy. And now an ad for sprott shaw, a school that teaches office skills. Now a documentary about a woman from montreal that rowed five kilometers to paris. Wow, how do you do that, gotta be fit, that is quite a rowing endeavour. She feels exhausted now, well, who would not be, that much rowing that much rowing. You need to have much more stamina than if you type a non-novel, quite an amount of staying power, but, hey you definitely soar on the feel of accomplishment, we do need a challenge in order to feel safe and secure, in order to feel alive alive. Gotta jump from goal to goal, that is what life means, so it seems so it seems. 19 753 words, write on write on. once more the beautiful woman in blond and blue, talking about her experience at the border crossing, now the husband, the woman is very pretty. And we type here type here. 19 789, type on and type on. now a lawyer who talks about the legalities and now on to other news about a crime. They seem to repeat their news clips all through the day, author has seen all of these clips before, all through the day. still writing, writing, two hundred words we still need here need here. then we can rest, do other things, go for a brisk walk, do the dishes, that kind of stuff that kind of stuff. the plant near the window, author ponders, what to write about that, how do you describe a plant in words, in a time when images are everywhere, we live in a
visual world, a picture is worth a thousand words, ah, her prose is sprinkled all over with all the inevitable platitudes, that is how we roll that is how we roll here. the poetics of the everyday, that is the genre we explore, that is the category of writing we do here, she ponders, who are the publishers of the poetics of the everyday, who are the readers, a show about nothing, a book about nothing. 19 974, she can stop at 20 111, maybe, hopefully hopefully. Her back is going numb, breathing becomes tough, gotta write though gotta write, on the telly, a car that drove into a wall, the car is very black and shiny, the wall is very beige and bricky, wow, that is quite a picture, the car halfway in the wall, the car that is stuck in the wall. now the telly shows fish, now a person in gey talks about fish. Now rivers, birds, people who talk about squamish. Now a skier, now a mountain, now a woman in whistler talking, 20 074, still talk about the Olympics, hey, has it really been four years, where has author`s life gone, all typing and all typing and all of this typing. Ten one oh two twenty one oh seven. Finally done finally done, yay yay yay yay. 325. So, apparently this is day number fourteen, the keyboard is waiting for input, the words have to be written written. No plot as of yet, but that is practically old news. This constitutes a foray into non-narrative country, it is merely an examination of what it takes to be a participant in national novel writing month. the life of a writer, the quietness, the eventlessness. The doggedly typing, the fashioning of words. the amassing of sentences, that kind of stuff that kind of stuff. the silence, the quiet talking into the keyboard, words that simmer along in order to build up to a long long piece of work. The hope for an eventual reader, the making of the novel, the nonethelessness of doing this, in the end it does not even matter if somebody will read this. the process is paramount, the process of doing this, of hacking away at the machine, that kind of
stuff, yup, that kind of stuff. twenty three oh two, type on and type on and type on and type on. at this rate you will finish on December third, by the way, yup, by the way. 326. 71 pages of this, an inconsequential novel, one full of glitches and hiccups, one that is bored with itself, one that is not so very happy, one that has no real clue why it exists. Nano-ers do not have a life in november, their collective lives are on hold, they just write just write. like people who do embroidery, like people who knit. They produce something to hurl it at the world, a monument to their own existence, a fabrication of ideas of thoughts. Something to kill time, something that should last and last. But, hey, all those books written are lost, so many of them so many of them. lost books, this will be one of those, so it seems, so it seems. The days of amazon and scribd, they will dissipate, yesterday, blockbuster closed its last store down in the states, the end of an era the end of an era. The ruins of video stores, the ruins of libraries. Books that have been, stories that were told long ago long ago. even while you utter a word it is over, it is followed by the next word, by still another word. fleeting words, something like that something of that kind. 20 537, write on and write on and write on and write on. at this rate you will finish on December 2. Huh, this is going along quite nicely, she has not even written that much as of yet, it seems, that the website is nice to her today, ah, these machines who really knows what makes them tick, they are enigmatic, yup, let us say that is how it is how it is. Today it is nicely sunny, a sunny mild day in november, november fourteen to be exact. She parked her car near the Bay, went down and had a coffee and a banana bread, the woman asked her, late today question mark yep, late for writing, writing. author bought groceries, a piece of too greasy pastry, all into the car, then to the Y, the weight as of today, 186 pounds, some one
point four pounds less than the day before. nice, nice, today is a nice day, if you weigh less than the day before, that must be a good sign good sign. by the zumba dancers, back to the place where the laptop awaits, where words have to be shuffled into the machine the machine. 20 731, for now and for now and for now and for now. Still december two, thus, type on and type on and type on, until the fingers are starting to bleed, until a heart attack, a stroke, until death, dissipation, until and until. Ah to write to type, while the sun is shining outside, all these words ah all these words, the ones that are never good enough, the ones that are a-stalling a-stalling. She is a writer now for so many years, this is what we do here do here. we sing to pretendreaders, nobody pays us by the word, this is writing that will never make it never ever. Gotta peddle your wares, each and every word, gotta write glib enough but not too glib, gotta cement the status quo, but not way too much, pens are supposed to build new worlds, better worlds, that is how it is how it is. typewriters, computers, and we write and we write and we write and we write here. Some more words, while the day motions forward, while the earth is a-turning a-turning. 20 915, ah how many how many how many how many. Still december two, still ah still. Today is Wednesday, the word construct group in langara will meet for performances, author here is kind of happy that she dropped out, who needs criticism, even constructive one, critics will stifle her words, will fail to propel her texts forward. write on write on, march this forward forward. editing has to come later, ah so much later and later and later and later. 20 997, three more words, twenty one thou, ah yay and yay and yay and yay.
December one 2013, we do not need that many words anymore, just enuf to hit the ``at this rate you will finish on november 30`` button. At this time of last year she was all finished, she wrote the fifty thousand words in fifteen days, straight. This year it takes so much much longer, could be old age could be general malaise, the fatigue of the word slinger, something like that. she should crawl thru pubs, that is what writers do, they need hard liquor, if their writings are worthless worthless. She should write with the best of `em, sing with the best of `em. She should sell all of her words and all of her words. there is a market out there, one to be explored, one to be created. My words and my words and my words and my words. maybe zines are better, maybe art books, maybe graphic novels. Maybe nanowrimo is not for us here, ah, who knows and ah who knows. 21 177, more words and more words. The website is down, for whatever reason for whatever one. the machine does not like me, somebody in silicon valley is having it in for me. Anyhoo, we type and type and type and type here. 21 219, for now for now for now for now. 327. 21 237. 328. The internet is down, who knows why who knows why. 329. 21 255. 330.
Yep, the telly is down, the internet is down, ah, the horror the horror. How to live without all those gadgets, how, how. Well, might as well write, author listens in to the generic sample music of the computer, fast-paced too loud blearing, not quite elevator music, not quite jazz, instrumental stuff by some group called mr. scuff, the song is called ninja tune, whatever that means whatever that means. it is way too loud way too loud, one cannot really write with music this loud, huh. 331. 21 302 words, given that it is in mid november or so, we should have 25 000 words or so, thus write fast write fast. author ponders, she should go to one of those places where everybody writes, a coffee shop in the right vicinity, a library, a university, that is where people are sitting at computers and hack away seriously, home is not that good for writing, here it is more on the unprofessional side, there are too many distractions, there are dishes waiting to be done, there is a too full fridge, yup, home is where distraction galore is happening, something like that something like that. the music is very sharp, very marching band like, it kind of interferes with good words, the piece is so very long, the rhythms are too repetitive, they are not sweet and nice, it is a marching band symphony, that seems to never ever end, she could make it stop, but she cannot find the button that makes it stop, thus, gotta listen while writing ah while typing, at one point it will stop playing, how long can this song possibly be. the funny thing is that every time that it seems to stop it still starts up again, weird strange. and we have 21 500 or so, ah write on write on, the machines might not work but we might be able to finish this up in one big swoop, yup, why not and why not and why not and why not and why not, why not. finally, she found the mute button, wow, this was way too much noise pollution, way too much and way too much. the fridge crackles up and starts its songs, now there is a symphony that is bearable bearable.
Author here ponders, is this a rich enough narrative, all this talking about how to survive nano month, nothing is really happening just the typing the typing the typing the typing. Repetitive endeavour galore, anyhoo, we write on and write on, a story might crystallize, somehow, somewhere. 332. 21 684, write on write on. given that she cannot access the nanowrimo site anymore, she is kind of writing in a vacuum here, might as well, might as well. who needs instant gratification, she just has to stop when she reaches 50 000. Given that we still have more than fifteen days till the end of november, this should be easily attainable in the timespan projected. And 21 752 it is, it is it is it is it is. 333. Ninja tuna is still on, she demuted it. the name of the song is actually kalimba, the band`s name is mr. scruff ninja tuna, somehow it is more like herb alpert, but what does author here know, no musical knowledge whatsoever. 21 806, her right hand is acting up, a tad a tad a tad a tad a tad. the part on the back of her hand where the little finger breaks away from the hand, yup, that kind of knuckle, she ponders if she is describing it accurately and what this has to do with a novel. 21 865, write on write on, how many words are still needed needed. the insanity of typing away while the drummer forces this forward, the blow horn, the music is quite fast paced, no pause and no pause and no pause whatsoever whatsoever. 334.
Actually there are pauses, where it seems as if the music is over but then it starts up again, seems this quasi symphony will serenade her forever here. until all 50 000 words are uttered, until the marathon is over, until the goal has been achieved, the goal set by an authoritative institution. Anyhoo, type on type on, mindless words ah mindless words, so many ah so many, 21 974, on november 13 in 2013, write on write on write on write on. 335. 21 991, still some more words ah still some more words. 20 002, yay, yay. the fridge once more, for moments for moments moments. It is so weird to be cut off from the outside world, no tv, no internet. well, at least we have this typing machine here, though it is definitely more fun to roam the city and write in places where there are people. even a note pad would be fine, the problem is though that one has to transcribe the writings later on. author did that with her first nano novel, it was all written in long hand it took forever to transcribe it. at this point she prefers to write in here, do sojourns into the world and then come back to write here in silence, in isolation. This is the writer‘s studio, the workshop, well, technically it is the kitchen table next to the fridge. 22 142, two and two and one and four and two. 336. 22 155, 22 156. 337. Maybe not having access to the internet is pretty good, author here might just finish this up, write the novel write the novel. she could flesh out some characters, how about all of them being
writers. and unpublished ones at that. or maybe a group of writers with various degrees of success. And then a web of intrigue, petty professional jealousies, that kind of stuff, that kind of stuff. author ponders, she once bought this book about a writers`group, she must have it somewhere here, she remembered reading the beginning in midtown manhattan, she does not remember much of the story, it was kind of forgettable, but she remembers the place where she read it, the ricotta chocolate chip cannelloni or is it canolli, it was in a europe café that seemed kind of forgotten, desolate and down on its luck too, just like the cannelloni just like the book itself. A bad and stale book in a bad restaurant all paired with bad food, that is how she remembers it. must have been some years ago, maybe she left the book somewhere in nyc. she always does that when travelling, she starts a book, but does not finish it. if push comes to shove, she owns a lot of books that are not finished that are half-read. Writing seems more fun, it is less passive, you feel that you are doing something. you motion your fingers over the keyboard, motion words onto the monitor, yup, something like that something of that kind. 22 406, why is the word count icon so utterly small so utterly small. 338. 22 427 words. Outside the trees, inside here the songs of the fridge. The story about the writers did not work out, somehow author here can just describe her immediate surroundings. And that is why the story falls flat, you have to be a storyteller, if you want to fashion a novel, you cannot come from the world of essays in art school and suddenly make a leap to the world of novel writing. there are all these reasons why it would not work, novel writing is a different kind of beast when compared to
school essay writing, so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems. Author ponders, once she starts up a repetition it is kind of tough to stop. the singsong of the lingo, the rhythms of the language, that it what dictates its music its melody to her. yup, welcome to the world of writing, it is weird and strange, so very very different from technical pursuits, from functional form giving. You do not really engineer a story, the melody, the harmonies, that is what dictates the text. It is more like composing more like choreographing a dance. and we write on and write on and write on and write on. 22 656, 22 657. 339. 22 661. The fridge does its singing. The reflections from the lamp on the glossy surface of the laptop, anyhoo, she feels like barfing like barfing like barfing. Maybe a piece of fruit would help, at least it is some kind of distraction, something to do other than mindless typing. A novel that no one will read, ah, this better be good better be good. the fridge stops its singing, so abruptly abruptly abruptly abruptly. 340. 22 737, maybe she should work on the writings that she did before. they say that writing is rewriting, maybe it is true ah true. 341. Page 79 of 80, that is what it says at the bottom of the page. ah all these numbers these numbers. They increment the text, they tend to increment anytext. 342.
22 794 words ah write on and write on and write on and write on. 343. 22 810. 344. In order to tell a nice story, you have to have something to say. you have to take a stand, so the story goes. Or maybe not. author remembers that she once took an epistemology course, a philosophy course where she was supposed to take a stand, at least that was the requirement. She wrote five pages about why it was futile to take a stand in this particular instance and she kind of did a good job at it, her arguments were very persuasive, but in the end she, well, did not fulfil the main requirement which was to take a stand. Author here does not remember the grade, apparently she had to drop the class anyways. but the point that we want to make here is that a non-story is a story that is worth telling just as much as a real story, the non-story then becomes the story, automatically, if that makes sense. anyhoo, we have some more words and in nanowrimo that is all that counts. 22 980, twenty more and we have 23 thou, so write on and write on, six more, run and run, yay, 23 000 it is it is it is it is. 345. 23 015. 346. More words ah more words. 347.
Still writing a-writing. 348. 23 028. 349. 23 032. 350. 23 033. 351. A fast walk through the neighbourhood, fresh air, though it is not fresh enough, she is wearing way too many layers, that kind of makes you way too hot in order to appreciate the cool breeze. It kind of equals the freshness out, so you do not really get home invigorated. But they say it is good for the aching joints, it is good for your mind, keeps you young, makes your blood circulate, maybe works against the clogging of the arteries, against the plaque in your veins. After all she sure lives on ample amounts of fat and sugar, grease is not that good, you know, salads, leafy greens, we do that once in a blue moon here. furthermore, one should drink a lot of fluids, so they say they say. maybe she should have had a chamomile tea in the coffee shop at the corner of forty-first and vine, furthermore she could go to the artist talk in the art school at seven. All of this instead of scribbling mindless notes, all of this, huh, all of this. in the bookstore on 41st., rummaging through this book by a radio personality, she read this part about the `burbs in toronto, the writer was describing his boyhood, well, obviously, if you are on the radio each and every day, your readership is built-in, you do not really have to market your mini-memoir, all the
listeners know you anyways, you are on the cbc everyday, anyone who drives around listens to you, automatically, besides author here had diner once with the writer`s cousin, thus, well, author ponders, her sentence stops in mid-air, that happens a lot these days, somehow she does not feel like finshing a sentence, finishing a thought. She prefers to let the words dangle mid-air, talking fatigue writing fatigues sets in ah so easily so very very easily these days. comes with the november weather, the year that still is, so near to its end so near to its end. it is five forty-one, if she goes down to the art school now she has to pay for parking, the trick is to go last minute, parking is free after seven pee em. 23 399, write on and write on and write on and write on. 352. It is five forty-seven, author is not happy at all that the telly does not sing its songs, she looks at, stares at the screen with the blue rectangle in it, the one that says not authorized. For some reason, her cable provider is of the opinion that the bill has not been paid, thus, nothing works, not the telly, not the online service. the silence in here is deafening, well, that is not accurate, the typing sings its songs at her. 353. It is five fifty-one, should she really go to the art school, who really cares about an artist talk, apparently it is a conversation between a prof. and an artist. This seems to be the new wave, conversations, interviews on stage. A new kind of format a la larry king. It goes with our celebrity-obsessed world, the interviewer herself is a minor celebrity. 354.
Five fifty-four, she is not quite sure if the lights in her car work, they seem to be kind of fickle these days. and taking the bus in the middle of the night, ah, not good, not good. maybe she will just make her way to safeway, get a greek salad with tuna, the canned one, author ponders, how does this work into her novel, it is the novel of a nano-writer, but, it is kind of too stupid, way too stupid. It fills the page, that is for sure but, hey, does it make it publishable. The key for the question mark on the keyboard does not work, it happens sometimes, you have to push a certain button to make it work in the right way, author has no clue how to do that. after a while, it will all be good again, the machine will heal itself, it will walk off its clinks, that is how it is it is it is it is. 355. The telly is working again which might not even be so good. after all it is nothing but, well, the idiot box. Noise pollution that works against the work of a writer, she needs a studio to go into, she has to close the door, hammer away at the keys, that kind of stuff. after all, when the telly did not work, she started reading a book, she started to listen to music, she started to work in depth on her writing. maybe living without all the gadgets is where it is at where it is at. The art school was such a bummer, two dumbo heads talking, it was kind of funny though, entertaining entertaining. And 23 847 we have ah we have here have here. 356. 23 861. 357.
Ah to write to write. seems that at this rate we will finish this on november 21, so the website says, maybe the internet being down and the telly being down was a blessing in disguise, well, it definitely was definitely was. On the telly, the bbc, typhoon haiyan, which is what dominates the news these days, obviously, obviously. Author fed about 8000 words to the machine today, it was definitely a productive day. nothing but silence, nothing but the no-distraction-day. maybe writing in solitude in isolation is where it is at where it is at. 358. The constant checking of the wordcount, the constant looking at the nanowrimo site only slows down author`s output here. 359. 23 979. 360. 23 983, 23 987, 23 989. 361. Still some more words and still some more words. two more and we make it up to 24 000 and some. 362.
Words written today are 3871. Author here made a mistake, she misread the stats page, that is why she thought that she had written 8000 words. ah, things happen they happen happen. 363. November fourteen, in the morning, well, the late morning. author here has been to oakridge already, to the airport, she is now back at the computer, while the telly sings its songs. Gotta write gotta write. a certain wordcount for each and every day, cannot go lower than that. she has a head start, a slight one, there are all those extra words that were fed to the machine the day before. 364. Actually she is still in ``at this rate you will finish on november 30`` land, great, huh, huh. 365. I came here like a wrecking ball, miley cyrus, yep, this is the twerking year, it is the rob ford debacle year, it is the year of the horrible taifun in the Philippines. It is seven and nineteen, here in the internet cafe on yonge, author has described this place before, in 2008, in 2011, at least those are the times she remembers. Once she even gave a reading and this woman from Portland really liked it. Well, nothing is published and maybe it never will, author here is rummaging through this volume on farrar, strauss and geroux, it is kind of disillusioning, seems as if in publishing it is all about whom you know, not what and how you write. 366.
This place is pretty smelly, disgustingly so. How can anybody possibly write good stuff if it smells like this. Well, we do not need that many words here, once they are penned we are outta here outta here. 367. She has not written in ages, so it seems, so it seems. A weekend in Toronto does that 2 you. 368. Back in vancitay, gotta write, write, huh, speedily, ah, so very very speedily. 26 thousand words in mere nine days, ah, this better be good better be good. doggedly drowning in the onslaught of words, that is how this computer should behave, will behave. a curveball took her off her course, threw her off, gotta make time to press all these words in, these words in. we have still time, her neck, her shoulders, her poor fingers, ah, writing ah writing. the day before she was at a fashion show in the local mall, on the second floor of the bay, ah bliss ah bliss. It is that time of the year, when the malls are singing their songs, everything and everywhere, festiveness, commercialness. Gotta write ah write ah write ah write. toronto is long gone, now it is all about the songs of this fridge here, cheering her on cheering her on. about three thousand per day. This is not slow and steady, this is more like a cannonball, a wrecking ball, a la miley cyrus, something like that something of that kind. She has no words, a stale tuna wrap waiting in the fridge, the words that are not there not yet and not yet. the impeding dullness of the writerly days, her writerly days, the words that have to be delivered, against the deadline, nobody will even pay her, she just has to fulfill the commitment, her commitment, we said we will do this, thus, we have to stand by this fruitless surreal obligation. Writing or bust, words or bust, ah, something like that something of that kind. She tries to remember where she was, in a place where everyone was writing, some
dingy, brownish dump, with all the fluorescence of blearing laptops. Maybe it was just around the corner on forty-first, at the communal table, all students, all writerly. An eve maybe, a morning, that time of the day when writers flock to the place. Two women in red and silverygrey packing up their writerly utensils, a too small computer, in red in grey. This happened some days ago, as in a dream, she can see it clear though clear though. Must have been the day before yesterday, the women talking in Japanese. Anyhoo, her writing ah her writing. sentences cut in half, hacked into bits, fast and fast and fast and fast. 24 717, still so much to go so much so much. Good strateguizing will broom forward, apparently apparently. She has some words penned on her phone, but hey, forget about those, some hasty notes in an airport lounge, nope, let them rot ah rot, they will not make it into this, let them fleet away into obscurity, just keep on typing here and typing here. her middle finger, the one on the right hand, it will not make it make it, do not look to the right to the left just keep on typing a-typing a-typing a-typing. 369. Ah stop this stop this. the insanity to fifty thousand, one hundred thousand, as if something will be achieved if a certain increment of words is pushed into some machine, a distance is run, if we can number our days and look back to say, this is what is lingering on into eternity, long after this, light years from now. the 50 000 words of two thousand and thirteen, ah, those ones those ones. the poems that are way too shitty, the utterings against the pounding headache, yup, something like that ah something of that kind. 370. 24 010, all these words, in 370 little chunks, all numbers, all numbers. 371.
It is not noon yet, it is still november twenty-too, the day before, two malls, one art school, one lecture, one fashion show, train rides, bus rides, the collapse on the green couch, fitness center, the spinning around like a maniac, now it is time to unwind to rewind, the stillness, the meditativeness, the zen, the writing the writing. the words will find you, all these nonsensical absolutes, that make no sense, ah, no sense whatsoever. We have 25 000, exactly correctly. 372. Maybe, some fast words, it is not noon yet, it is james franco and conan o‘brien, they are blabbering around on the telly, she types and types and types and types and types. On the green couch, on the green couch. 373. On the telly, big bang. How to watch the episode about how to encourage women to pick a career in the sciences and write your novel, actually the rest of your novel. you have to concentrate on one of these, either watch the telly or write, pick one ah one. it is the fifteeth anniversary of doctor who, the google doodle is great. 25 111, ah write on and write on and write on and write on. 374. Now it is near the end of big bang, we have 25 139 here, still so much behind ah behind. Yup lagging behind. 375. On the telly, a documentary about the kennedy assassination. Author here has seen it before, so it is kind of like some kind of background music to her writing, to the typing. And we have 25 186
words here, this really does not walk forward fast enough. ah to make this run forward to 50 000 by the end of this month, to type up 25 000 words, to furnish a coherent piece of writing. author here peruses the nanowrimo forum, all the different regions. The one in nyc, ah, interesting interesting. And we write here write here write here write here write here. 25 255, ah words ah words. 376. 25 263 words, we do not really have anything to say, there is no story here, none whatsoever. Gotta make up stuff, 25 000 words of stuff. mainly about the writer who has nothing to say, who heaps on a bunch of words, strings them together like beads on a string. Author ponders, she used the word ―string‖ twice in one sentence, not good stylistically, nope, not at all. she was at home for most of the day, the only foray into the world was the coffee run at ten in the morning, the busyness, there was hardly any empty seat in the so very small place on arbutus, so much chatting, so many many people. she had a banana bread, a pike place, some cream therein. and a thai tuna wrap, but, hey, seems this was described before in this text. On the telly, walter conkrite, author remembers, she once stood behind him on an elevator in London, some twenty years or so ago. anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. 377. 25 440 words, gotta still keep on typing, typing. At this rate you will finish on December fourteen, so the page of nanowrimo says, gotta crank this up, the speed of the writing, the sheer volume of words that will prassel down onto the page. now, it is piers morgan, seems, that today is the anniversary of the assassination, that is why it is on the telly all day long. A rerun of the
movie jfk, a documentary and now an interview with a secret service agent. And we write here write here write here write here. 378. 25 539, 25 340 words. 379. 25 544, still writing, still writing. 25 550. 200 000 writers the world over, all trying to deliver the goods by the end of this month, she ponders, how many of those novels will be published, will any of them be made public in the end. or are they merely little mobiles destined to rot in the basement, in the attic. 380. 25 607 words, this crawls forward slowly, steadily. 381. Still some more words, still some more words. on the telly, candy crawley, wolf blitzer, the like, ah, the like. 25 637 words, still writing still writing. seems kind of inconceivable that this will be finished in time, there is not really enough time to do this, who wants to be chained to a computer in order to write a shitty novel, a non-novel to be precise. Novels tend to have characters that interact, there is a narrative, a story-arc. Obviously no two novels are alike in structure, there are all kinds of novels, that is what makes for the richness in literature. As is true for art in general, the most fascinating things happen in between the rigorous categories, in the in-betweens. The most innovative stuff happens if you try to bend the rules. But a novel has to have the ―cliff-hanger‖-element, it has to force the reader to, well, at least to not fall asleep when
reading. A novel, after all, is not a sleeping pill. This very novel is mostly concerned with the process of writing, with the very literal logistics of the typing, the description of the spaces where the author pens her texts. It is utterly debatable if this is a rich enough subject matter, if it has enough fodder for a long fifty-thousand-words-long treatise. Furthermore, can one write on writing without stumbling into constant repetitions, into repeating the same thoughts and ideas over and over. Given that the objective is to torpedo the fifty thousand words down onto paper within a certain timeframe, in this case, one whole month, the quality of the written text is somehow bound to suffer. On the other hand, the looming deadline will get things done, editing can be done later. There is another element to consider, too, it is the idea that the constant wordsmithing makes you fluent in eloquent speech, it is like playing an instrument, you have to practice each and every day, the same holds true for form giving in language, suddenly the language becomes more malleable. Language as clay, something like that, something of that kind. Author here is getting tired, on the telly, John Kerry, twenty-five words more and we will have 26 000 words here, so sprint on sprint on sprint on sprint on. five more, three, two, one, 26 000 it is it is it is it is. 382. Another day to drive forward the words, fast and fast and fast and fast. not much time to finish this, so you‘d better buckle up, better sit still here, hunched over, chained to the computer, hammering down onto the keyboard, without looking up, no glimpses to the right or the left, only staring down at the fingertips that swim over all these white letters, slim, within the black squares, yup, type on and type on and type on and type on. the day swims forward, what an
utterly sunny day here on the west coast in november, the mall and the gym was awash with early-morning-health nuts, yoga enthusiasts in the mall, in the yoga clothes store, with all their mats, all the shoes lines up at the entrance, when author walked by there some minutes later, the place was closed up, darkened, some sleepy soothing music splashing over the flexing contorted pretzel bodies in colourful spandex. And the Y had badmingtonians doing their thing, jumping around, hopping up and down, one person in black falling down, a dive down to the ground, only to propel up rapidly, author ponders, where are the zumba people, there was a slight crowd dancing on the above floor, slightly, slightly, slightly, slightly, slightly. 383. Twenty-six thousand words, still a long long way to go. The words that have to be delivered. All while the sun is so shining, while the day is so utterly nice and seducing. On the telly, the usual suspects, wolf blitzer et. al. 384. Letter by letter, word by word, the novel is tinkering along, it is an entity in itself, there are two hundred thousand just like it, the world over, trying to make it to fifty thousand by the end of this very month. All these marathoners that are sitting still for the most part, you know, not counting the writers who walk around and dictate their words to some kind of software that writes automatically, that transcribes the aural to the visual. How many runners are there in the big marathon runs, how many participants who like to participate in some kind of extravaganza just for fun, just so they have the feel of accomplishment, the feel of tackling their time in a positive way, time wasted well. The excitement of writing and finishing in time, the meeting of a deadline, yup, that kind of stuff that kind of stuff that kind of stuff that kind of stuff. Writing as
dullest art, nah, not likely not likely. Author here is not vigilant enough about her words, she tries to listen to the telly, which obviously interferes with her ability to steer the words accurately and logically. But hey gotta pit these words down fastly fastley., 26 472, write on write on write on write on and write on. 385. By this time she should be at 45 000, she has twenty thousand words less, that is a big chunk of words that has to be driven into the monitor in a so very short time, going for travels to toronto instead of buckling up at the desk to type ah to type was not conducive to this novel, to the fast penning of this very text. It is ten fifty now, 10:51 AM, on a sunny Sunday in late november, here in Vancouver, here in 2013. All these numbers, ah, all of these numbers. Aiop number, 2013, btw, side note, ah side note. 386. At this rate you will finish on December sixteenth, ah not good, not good, not good, way behind schedule, gotta take some time out just to write in a hurry in a hurry. Today is november twentyfourth, thus only six days left to pen 24 thousand words more, which is definitely trying, especially if there is no plot whatsoever, none in sight none in sight. Author can feel her body acting up, her eyes burning, her neck cramping up from being contorted all the time, all this sitting with a downward tilted neck, not good ah not good, not good not good. she has some warmed-up almonds, some raisins, she just had a greek tuna salad with little pasta parts and in it, an Anjou pear, yup, the breakfast of champions, the lunch of the perpetual writer. Write on and write on and write on and write on and write on. 387.
On the telly, cristiane amanpour, talking a-talking. Some more words some more words. 26 757, propel this forward, up to 27 thousand words. Should be doable ah doable. Maybe sitting at home is not that good, all the noise pollution works against the words, against the words. 388. Three hundred and eighty-eight chunks of words, that is how the twenty-six eight hundred seven words are mulled together, little asymmetrical increments, a symphony loosely divided into bigger and smaller units, a flowing entity that stalls a tad, sings a tad, dances according to a reluctant choreography. 389. The screen of the telly is glaringly bathed in sunlight, it is next to noon, not quite not quite, the talking heads staccatoing their words, rhythmically rhythmically. 390. Chunk numero 390, this is marching forward forward. she lets go of correct punctuation, there is no narrative here, so we might as well liven up the text with temperamentful punctuation, the plot is substituted by the visual of the non-commaness. In other words if we do not have an interesting, a fascinating gripping story to tell, we might as well play with the letters and the commas, paint with the signs, with the language, let them dance over the page. The forms of the alphabet, the signs on the monitor, the short taps at the letters, the musical of the typing. On the telly, movie reviews, now an ad for a show about tennis. 26 982, some more words ah some more words. 26 990, ten more words, five, ah there it is, we have reached 27 0005, yay and yay and yay and yay. At eleven forty-two, midday in Vancouver in November ah November
November. The sing song of the language, deafening ah deafening deafening deafening deafening deafening deafening deafening deafening. 391. At this rate you will finish on December fifteen. 392. Writing is so very static, you just sit still and type. Not good, ah, not good. Subsiding on nuts and raisins, maybe a baked potato, maybe a banana. And a lot of water, a lot of tea. 27 088, this marches forward a word at a time a word at a time. 393. 27 105 words, nine hundred more to 28 000. 394. 27 115 words, write on write on. 395. The boredom of penning a text, counting each and every word, while the tingling, the pangs in between the shoulder blades works against all of these words, the physical of writing is so much worse than the difficulties in forming the sentences, on the telly talk about winter storms, coldness, chilliness over the thanksgiving weekend, during black Friday. 396.
27 181, well, move this forward, at least to the full 200. 27 193, some more words, 27 198, 27 202, yay and yay. 397. At this rate you will still finish on December fifteen, thus, fill the page fill the page. on the telly, Miami dolphins, frederica something talking about politics. Author here has seen these news clips so very many times, these are all reruns. Though, now a new news story about tech entrepreneurs in St. Quentin, making apps. behind bars. Anyhoo, we still are typing here ah typing ah typing ah typing ah typing. 398. 27 280. Twenty more words to make it to 300, ah baby steps, baby steps. Six more words, there we are there we are. 399. 27 307. 340. 27 308. 341. 27 310. 342.
At this rate you will finish on December fourteen, still gotta write fast, to make it to the point where you are in a place where you will finish on November thirty. Just disregard the pangs in your back, the shoulder blades will make it through, one night‘s sleep will regenerate your health, writers are sitting contorted since the beginnings of time, there is no other way to document your words, to inscribe them, at least we do not have to take a hammer anymore and chisel pour inscripts into hard stone, into a rock. She ponders about letters written on wet sand, only to be wiped out by the next wave. When did humans start to write, utter their guttural words into a surface, when and why. Why knit the yarn of a story. Why embroider words to fabric? You can get philosophical when typing ah typing ah typing. The poetics of words, silent, singing, some kind of silent nice. 343. 27 477. 344. 27 480. 345. 27 481 words. 346. All this typing is wearing on author here. well, the text accumulates, it moves forward without any plot whatsoever, the only excitement is the wordcount, the slow and steady accumulation of all of these words. The happiness that one feels when a certain wordcount is achieved, this is kind of futile and desperately decidedly so. knitting would be better maybe, bricklaying, any
construct of a three dimensional entity. And we write on and write on and write on here. Her right middle finger is slightly collapsing, she has to strategize her physical reserves. 347. Deadly winter storm threatens US. More news, more news, a short ad, for a camera, Nikon. Sudafed, an ad for men‘s wearhouse, hey, he does not guarantee it. now there is a first. 348. 27 614. 349. 27 616, 350. And still some more words still some more words. Pretty near to 28 000 words, while cnn blears on, noisepollutes this place, all these women with too much make-up and too much energy, they usually wear dresses in only one bright neony colour, apparently prints are too distracting, they take away from the words, so it seems so it seems. Ah, broadcasting, now an ad for medicare, humana medicare advantage, apparently an hmo for meds. And we still type on here type on here. 351.
Words written today: 1669, this arguably goes down so very very very very slowly. one fifty-five in the afternoon, she wrote for about four hours straight, this goes so slow so utterly utterly slowly. 352. 27 740 words, still writing ah writing. feed your words to the machine, one letter at a time, one letter at a time. 353. 27 764 words. at this rate…, ah, well, who cares. Just keep on typing, the light here is pretty low, author has to squint to decipher the letters. That arguably slows down her writingish speed.two more, 27 799, 27 802. What a slog a-slog. 354. And still typing away, while the news clips keep on repeating, over and over again. now a welcome diversion, an ad for korea air and an ad for the US postal sevice. Now an ad for midas, now an ad for liberal mutual insurance. Short thirty sec films, story after story after story after story after story after story after story after story after story after story after story. Plot after plot. Mini plot after mini plot. And 27 868 it is it is it is it is. 355. 27 897. 356. 27 900.
357. At this rate you will finish on December fourteen. So better keep on writing a-writing. 358. Now, king of queens, kmn, yup, kill me now. why is it so utterly boring to write this down, so mind numbing slash mind dumbing. Especially if you are cooped up and watch the idiot box when writing. Maybe pure silence would be better, makse you write that much better. The best strategy for writing is to change the scenery where you write but, hey, that is not always possible. If you have a whole lot of words to be pushed down into the keyboard in a very short time, you cannot really choose to find the optimum places for writing. you just have to white-knuckle it in order to not fall behind. 28 026, hurry the words forward forward forward forward forward. 359. 28 045. 360. At this rate you will finish on December thirteen. 361. This is a pretty funny episode of king of queens then again they are all funny. 361. Now big bang. Funny, laughtracks, ah, the usual. Well, at least the words pile on, we might just make it after all. Now, lennard‘s mother on skype, we have 28 103 words here, this moves
forward, slowly but steadily. An ad for an internet provider, a commercial for a weight loss company. An ad for some auto mall, an ad for a sports game, watch it on shaw. Have pizza, vacuum. An ad for a cold med, an ad for a coffee maker. Yup, brew the love. An ad for a cold cream, actually a body lotion, mac and cheese as frozen dinner and back to big bang it is it is it is it is. 362. 28 191 words, type away type away. 363. 28 199, all these words ah all of these words. it is three and nineteen in the afternoon, she is writing for five hours straight, still she has to feed so much more words to this machine. Ah will this ever end ever end? 364. 28 243, it is getting near to the evening, no more sunnyness, overcast is setting in, even laugh tracks cannot divert from that fact. And still some more words still some more words still some more words still some more words. 365. 28 285, 28 287. Twenty-three minutes after three in the afternoon, all these numbers that increment the writing. At the bottom of page one hundred and one, yay oh yay, yay. 367. Kit-kat break, applebee sirloin, an ad for a degree mill.
368. 28 328, at this rate…, ah, whatever. 369. Pillsbury crust and laughtracks. 370. Words written today: three three two one, huh. 371. An ad for a weekend car sale. yup, the telly tells its stories to her, the writing marches forward ah forward. 372. A new episode, Sheldon and Lennard. The plant near the window, the garbage basket on the ground. 373. 28 392, 28 393. 374. 28 397. 375.
Now the title song of big bang, ah the music band whose name she does not remember. An ad for Maybelline, an ad for chocolate syrup, an ad for applebee‘s. 376. And still writing still writing. until your right arm falls off, until December comes along. Still no plot here, but one can whine about that fact for one whole month, for 50 000 words, for one whole mini novel, one whole mini book. now, penny penny penny. 377. 28 477. 378. 28 480, 379. 28 485. 380. Words remaining: 21 thousand and something. ah fun, gloomy days filled with hacking away at the keys. While the shoulder blades say no, while the fingers say now. while reruns splash over her. while november comes to an end. 381. Still December thirteen, does this not budge one centimeter? Writing ah writing, and the telly sings its songs its songs its songs its songs its songs.
382. 28 555. 383. 28 557. 384. Amy on the harp, the girl from ipanema, she asks Sheldon if he wants to listen to a bossa nova classic which obviously is the ipanema song. Anyhoo, still watching and still typing at the same time. 28 596 words, she still has not much to show for six hours of typing, well, the back hurts, this writing biz is so very very annoying. A coffee shop is much better for writing, there is so much to describe there. here on the other hand there is nothing going on except all kinds of reruns, news, old sitcoms, the like and the like. commercials, yuh. That is why Shakespeare could write, he was not distracted by the telly. yup, makes sense makes sense makes sense makes sense. a pizza commercial, an ad for an internet provider. 385. 28 696, write on and write on. 386. 28 703. 387.
At this rate you will finish on December twelve. Yay, seems, this is definitely marching forward. now, Sheldon and penny. 388. 28 727 words, now lennard and amy. Once more, the title song, seems all these episodes keep on piling up. Just like all of these words. And still some reflections on the merits of writing, in this novel writing thingie it is more about doing what one set out to do, about fulfilling some kind of commitment. It is certainly not about literature and maybe that is pretty good as it is, the expectations are low, so you will not really fail, diligence is all we need here, stamina, yup, staying power, staying power. And there are all these dirty tricks to pile up the words, lots of repetitions, repetitions masquerading as stylistic devices. 389. 28 843 words ah words words. 390. At this rate you will finish on december twelve. Huh, this works out pretty good, if you stay put and do your work doggedly, time flies and you will finally reach your goal. Maybe this is not about literature after all, it is all about reaching a goal you set for yourself. But she said that already, ah, there is only so many times you can dress up the same thought again and again and make it seem new. 391. 28 929. 28 931.
392. 28 937. 393. 3000 words in seven hours, that is way way too slow. Author here used to type much much faster, she is definitely in some kind of slump. You have to keep on writing, it is like playing an instrument, gotta do it each and every day, a certain number of words so that you can look back at all the quasi-novels that you wrote over the years. 29 004, yay and yay and yay and yay. 394. Once more, typing, typing. It is four and forty-three in the afternoon, it is slowly and steadily getting dark in here, what with the end of daylight savings time. on the telly, once more john Kerry, we have 29 052 words now, 395. A documentary about weed, dr. sanjay gupta, now an ad for a car rental company. Anyhoo, let us write and write and write and write. 396. Some more words, still some more words. 397. 29 091 words, if push comes to shove she has to pen ten thousand words this very night in order to finish this in time.
398. 29 117 words. 399. 29 121. 400. 29 122 words. 29 129, huh, she has to keep on typing, she is actually writing now since ten in the morning. an eight hour workday, but definitely not that many words yet. there is such a lag, a lagging behind. These days she has to make up for the days that she did not write which means some boring days are ahead. Huh, now there is an idea for the story of the novel, a novel writer who dreams and sleeps words, sentence structures, word constructs. That somehow fit together, more often than not. Ah, the insanity of writing, a life wasted writing. It is like talking to yourself, insanity ah insanity. With the right kind of marketing it should sell, somehow, somewhere. The world of booktrailers and booktours, the smell of stale paper, the glue of bookbinding. Yup, libraries, literature, the like and the like. Romanticizing words, kind of weird and strange. 29 276 words. 29 281 words. 401. At this rate you will finish on December eleven. Huh, so keep on writing, try to propel this forward. Against the constant noise pollution from the telly, write on and write on and write on and write on.
402. 29 324 words. write and write and write and write and write. do some gymnastics with your fingers, stretch them, massage them, and then type some more type some more. basically it is all about your hand muscles, nothing more, nothing less. You gotta time your writings, do it in nice increments, deadlines are definitely not good for a steady output, try to veer away from burnout. 29 389 words, write on write on write on and write on. 403. Some more words ah some more words. 404. Not much to see here, nothing to describe here. A coffee shop would be so much better for this, she could make up a story about a place so very very very far away from here. Or so very very near, a place on arbutus, it might be closed by now, it is a Sunday after all. some fictional place would be nice too, just search you tube and look at a place in reykjavik or something, get a feel for places far away by looking at all the uploads on you tube or vimeo. 29 507, ah this goes so slow, so very very slowly slowly. 405. 29 520 words. 406. It is six and thirty-six in the evening. a day at the type-writer, slow day, but, hey, the words are propelled forward, ah, forward.
407. On the telly, two and a half men. An ad for milk. author ponders, it is way more fun to read through all of the forums, the fora. One could write a novel about the nanowrimo forums, each of them is pretty funny, each individual contribution, each thread too. And one feels like travelling the world, after all there are nano writers in all corners of the world. 29 617, ah, type on type on type on type on. 408. Four hundred words to propel this down to the big three oh, feed the words to the machine, to the machine to the machine to the machine. Author here had enough of this, time to take five, yup, five. 409. 29 669. 410. And back at the laptop we are and we are. The race against this machine, the race against time, it has begun, ah, begun. Actually it is really a race against a machine, a race against the typewriter, well, more together with the typewriter. Race against the machine seems to be more about a person trying to outrun a locomotive, literally trying to outpace a machine. Here the typewriter is a tool that facilitates the speed in writing, nobody can write as fast as a typewriter, longhand takes just that much longer to finish. Even a so very slow writer as author here is still much faster than somebody who is drawing up all those letters manually. Dictation would be good, after all there are those softwares where you talk into the microphone and the computer automatically
types the text up. Anyhoo, gotta write gotta write. It is still early in the morning, on a Monday in November, the last Monday of the month, maybe, could be. There is not that much time to finish this up, she has to sit put all day in order to catch up on her writing. In the morning she had a coffee on arbutus, she was the first customer maybe, there were lots of packages, the three baristas were putting them away. lots and lots of packages, all over the floor. Beige card board boxes, all sizes of them. author was reminded of the class in art school where the task was to build an installation out of card boxes, they were in different teams, different groups, maybe something like groups of five. This was quite a long time ago, ten, twelve years ago. anyhoo. The two female baristas were putting the boxes away, the male one was behind the counter. Author here went to the gym after the coffee shop, then she came home. and typing it is it is it is it is. She ponders, she could describe the drive to the Y in detail, the road she took, which was a so very different road from the one that she usually takes, it is parallel to the one she takes, but it is one that she never ever chooses, she ponders, if she can elaborate on this, stretch the description of her driving as much as she can, the early morningish darkness, the nice weather, you know, no ice on the windshield, no ice on the ground. everything and anything can be described by using a lot of superfluous words, that is how you make it to fifty thousand, yup, how tough can it be, how tough can it really be? you just need to take time out, sit at the computer and type and type. 30 125 we have here, wow, still a long way to go, still and still and still and still. at this rate you will finish on December twelve, well, we cannot do that, we gotta finish on november 30, thus a writingish stupor it is it is. hammer away at the keys, all day long and all week long. Propel this forward, fast and fast and fast and fast. 411.
Apparently, germany is leading the pack of nanowrimoers in individual wordcount, seattle Washington is next in rate of words. you can look all these stats up on the website, which is kind of distracting, you tend to compare your own progress with the other writers, you try to decipher where you stand in the hierarchy of authors. And it is not about the quality in writing, nope, it is all about the numbers, all about what you can easily size up, all about stuff that is measurable, quantifiable, the words, and especially the sheer number of words. nobody cares about the quality of your words, they can be as sloppy as you wish, speed is what counts here and it seems to be the only thing that counts. There is a saying that quantity begets quality, but how much does that really hold true? anyhoo, type on and type on and type on and type on. 30 353, propel this forward forward forward forward. 412. Some calisthenics, in order to work against the stiffness in your neck, the impeding pang and seeping between the shoulder blades, especially on the right side. Outside it is daylight now, still a tad grey though, a tad reluctant. Early morning or something, dawn, dusk, nope, dawn is the right wording. After-dawn or something, it is seven in the morning, maybe eight. Seven fortyone, to be precise, the little blue icon has spoken. The day mulls forward, ah all these words ah all these words. author should join the living, take the skytrain, the Canada line, all those office workers, all the busyness, it is so much better than this quietness in here, the silence, the isolation in the writers‘ studio. The hecticness in an office that is what drives yer writing forward, that is what makes the words accumulate. The writing factory, where workers feed their words to oversized printing machines, where words are churned out en masse. Where yesterday‘s news is long forgotten. Newspaper worlds that is what makes for good printable publishable writing. the industrialization of printing, that is what drives the words forward, ah, forward. the sheer number
of writers, the sheer number of readers, something like that, ah, something of that kind. 30 567, write on ah write on write on write on write on and write on write on. 413. Maybe, time to go back to the coffee shop on arbutus, it should be pretty hectic by now, everybody is going to school, to work. An early morning, an early Monday morning. coffee en masse, with cream, with sugar. The city awakens, is awoke already. kerrisdale here is like this little suburb, it is part of the city, but it is more like a suburb. Vancouver with all its little so very distinctive neighbourhoods, each coffee shop even has its own little world, but, hey, that is how it is everywhere. No hegemony, nope, go two streets to the left and everything changes. Anyhoo, fill the page with useless observations, make it borderline interesting, and you will have a novel, ah, a non-novel. write on and write on, something like that, something of that kind. 414. There is this contest, where you are supposed to write a novel over three days, it is the same concept as nanowrimo except the speed is much higher, you are supposed to finish in three days. three days instead of thirty days. so you have to be ten times faster. You have to devote your life to this, well, at least for three days straight. Author here has to sit chained to the computer too, that happens if you take ten days out. or seven, after all, toronto was not that long, she stayed there for five nights, but if you count the days it is really a seven day hiatus. or maybe not, math is not her strongest side. She uses up all these words, puts them down even if they are inaccurate. It starts flimmering in front of her eyes, she has to stop, for moments, ah moments. Rest a bit, start this up again later ah later. And do nor use that many ahs and oohs. December 11 it is it is. 415.
100 more words and we have finished the first one thousand words of this day, if we do this ten times more we have ten thousand words and then we will be at forty thousand which is where we should be with this at this point. ah all this typing all this writing. never mind the debate whether this is writing or typing, others can talk about that, others have done it and others will do that in the future. for author here, typing is writing, there is no distinction, no clear one, it is after all only a value judgement, typing supposedly being inferior, mechanistically, whereas writing denotes a deliberate choice of words, writing denotes literature, typing denotes grocery lists, something like that something of that kind. Anyhoo, we have 31 029 here, yay yay yay and yay. 416. Another chunk of words, how tough can it possibly be? she has nothing to say, really, but that should not matter, we have to fill the air here with words, no silence, write on and write on, gimmee one thousand more, fast ah fast fast. no pauses, just the typing away, outside, real daylite now, sunshine, at least glimpses thereof. Sloppy writing, fast so fast so fast. the day galavants forward, happily, silently reluctantly. or insert any number of adjectives in here, the words do not really count, the mere number is what counts. Hopefully the fingers will make it, hopefully the shoulders, the back and the neck will hold up. you have to be very physically fit in order to make it as a writer, as an author, the story is not important, the words the number of words is what is paramount. And that is our story here, that is what we stick to. 31 198, great, the second one hundred is in is in. 417. Still words, ah still words. shorter words are better, supposedly, they are typed up faster, and each word counts. Polysyllabic words take way too much time to type up, use shortish words,
that goes so much faster, ah, the economics of words. commas do not count as words, so let go of them. who cares if the punctuation is wrong, punctuation is debatable anyways. remember the one in Seinfeld with the discussion about an exclamation point. where Elaine broke up with her boyfriend or he broke up with her over an exclamation point. And for some weird reason they called it exclamation point and not exclamation mark. Anyhoo, we seem to have another one hundred words here, seems as if half a page is the same as one hundred words. thus just write on ah type on and type on and type on and type on. 418. She feels like barfing all over the keyboard, the letters are starting to swim here, maybe a coffee house would be so much better for writing, writingish conducive. Ah the weaving of the words, author here had a long talk with this weaver woman, that was on Saturday, author here uses words like TALK instead of DISCUSSION, only because one can type it up so much faster, weird, ah, strange, the style of the writing is determined by the speed of the delivery. 419. Seems, her writing is now all about the logistics of writing, she picks themes and discusses them in short paragraphs. We have 31 460 words here, ah nice, ah nice. march this forward, describe the plant near the window, each and every leaf, the color, the pointiness (of the leaves, that is). Describe the paper basket, that will fill the page, though it is borderline boring. No excitement in describing a paper basket, but, hey, we can try here ah try here. 420.
Her stomach is acting up, maybe it is psychosomatic, she is worried about her words, but usually she is more the nauseated kind, not the stomach achy kind. Vomiting comes with too much typing, there must be a correlation between sitting contorted and barfing. Something like that something of that kind. Anything to fill the page, anything and everything. nonsensical observations have to stand in for intelligent thoughts, there is no time to form nicely flowing sentences, eloquence and articulateness has to be massacred at the altar of wordcount, so it seems so it seems so it seems so it seems. 421. Maybe leaving this place would be good, after all this computer is portable, we can go to the kitchen here, sit at the kitchen table. kitchen table writing, kitchen table art. there is more to describe there, things that are different from the stuff here. no paper basket over there, you can look at appliances. She ponders, what bearing has that really on her writing? 422. 31 thousand and some, she cannot really decipher the word count icon that easily, it is way too tiny and there is no button that will start up a zoom-in on the icon. Nope, the icons are static, which is pretty annoying if you do not have twenty twenty vision. 31 741, so that is where we are at. It is nine zero zero, she wrote maybe two thousand already, pretty good, pretty good. time to go for a walk through the neighbourhood, or maybe a drive-thru at the local fast food joint. Well, she has to wait two more hours, that is when it is time for a big mac, which might not be that good for her stomach. this is what writers really think about, not about what they write, the logistics, those are the things that are paramount, so it seems, ah, so it seems. Seems, seems and seems seems.
423. Thirty one eight four eight, write on and type on. If author here had a nice bag for this laptop, she could take it down to the coffee house, the problem is that she does not own one, so she has to be stuck in here and do her writing. the only noise, the only distraction, diversion, inspiration will come from the telly. which is not enough, not rich enough. maybe she should listen to the radio, actually, she can make this machine sing or make noise. which is pretty conducive to writing too. 424, So near to thirty-two, write on ah write on write on and write on. 425. She could get the looking glass, the one that makes everything bigger. Or she could go and search for her glasses, find her glasses, so that writing would be easier. So many ways that this writingbiz can go here. maybe we should make up some characters, apparently they are paramount in a novel. a novel is not a self portrait, so they say so they say. 32 021, yay yay yay yay. 426. At this rate you will finish on December ten. Apparently, author has written as much today as she did write in the whole day yesterday. and it is still in the morning. yup, practice makes perfect, so it is so it is. 427.
Ah some more words some more words. we could write about the outlier book, the Malcolm gladwell one, something about ten thousand hours of doing something and becoming masterful after that. author did that with animation, she definitely became so much better just by doing it each and every day, the problem after that was that she did not own the animation stand, so she has to go somewhere and borrow the gear. With writing, she can do it anywhere, though it seems to go so much better in a public place, somewhere far away from the kitchen table. when you have to get up and go somewhere to write, it becomes more professional. It is if you go to an office. Writing at home is more like a cottage industry, which has its pros and its cons. It is way too isolated and if isolation is not your thing, well, then you are screwed. And, let us be honest, isolation is nobody‘s thing. We are communal animals. Yup, something like that, something of that kind. 32 248, type on ah type on type on. if jack Kerouac was alive today, he would not need a scroll, today‘s laptop is doing it all by itself. You can type on forever, ―on the road‖ and otherwise. If that makes sense ah sense sense. author here tends to fragment her sentences, comes with the territory, AFTER a while coherence just falls by the wayside, there is nothing one can do can do. 428. Before national novel writing month, well before the advent of it, author here was busy writing another piece, that one is now put on hold, it had to make way for this novel. we can start that one up again once this here is done. 429. It is now nine thirty, well, give or take some. four hours of writing, ah, not quite not quite. 200 000 writers the world over, trying to squeeze the writing into their busy lives. or just stop their
lives for one month. author here has to stop her usual day-ins and day-outs, mainly because she did not write for about seven days, that is why she is so much behind. Gotta make up for days lost, gotta run extra fast in order to just get to square one. slow and steady, that is how you are supposed to do it, it is kind of annoying if you have to make up for the big chunk that got lost. Anyhoo, write on and write on and write on and write on. 430. Author here ponders, are the nano-writers male or female? It seems the percentage of females is much higher, but it seems as if there are more male published authors in the world then there are female ones. gender inequality or something. who are the readers, men or women? And how many readers are there in the english-speaking world? yup, we could write about these kind of issues or we could not, after all, nowadays you can google anything. Do your online research, do your research online. We are losing it here, comes with the territory of waxing along forever and ever and ever and ever. 431. So many words ah so many words. this is getting really annoying, she should go out and have a latte. It is after all x-mas time, the time when there are all kinds of sugary and spicy seasonal drinks to be had. Season‘s greetings et. al.. time to clog up your arteries. On the first day of…maybe exercise is what we should do at this time of year. to avoid the slump, to battle the slump. Pre-emtively, pre-emptively. 432.
Outside, real sunshine, yup, the day marches forward. the lowly writer is just sitting here, typing a-typing. Thirty two something. all of these words and all of these words. word constructs, word construct, that is the name of the writing club in the community college. author ponders, if she wrote anything about the fashion show that she went to some days before, it was riveting riveting. A world changing event, she forgot all about it, she has to somehow write about that, she has actually a book about fashion, she bought it on the same day that she went to see the fashion show. Quite a coincidence now is it not? yup, it is and we have some thirty thousand and something words here., ah still gotta type and still gotta type on. not 34 000 yet, nope, not even 33. 433. The reason why she did not join the writing club was that she was kind of weary of receiving critique, constructive and/or otherwise. We do not want critique, we do not need critique. Critique is so counterproductive; it makes you stall your work. It makes you drop out of the field of your choice and maybe that is the whole intent. Someone wants to weed out the undesirables, because they will be the future competitors. That is how it is how it is. 433. Ah, still writing still writing. outside, it becomes glaring, blearing sun, the fridge rattles, for moments and moments. Still writing, huh, against the too full paper basket, against the plant near the window, against stagnation and stagnation. Time to be somehow, well, borderline poetic, in order to liven up this text. You can do what you want with this text, with this novel. time to have a midmorning snack, a banana maybe, some nuts maybe, some raisins maybe. a baked potato,
maybe, anything without grease therein. write on and write on, smush the words forward, ah, forward. 434. Thirty three oh oh nine, 33 009. At this rate you will finish on December ten. 435. How about finishing this up in one big whoosh. Might not be that good on the body, her eyes are near to developing some kind of nervous tic. You have to get up, walk around, rearrange your physical reserves in order to start up again. it is all about being able to balance the work with the right kind of pauses, maybe we need a writing coach here. you have to sit straight in between writing spurts, professional typists know how to do this. what kind of ergonomically correct chair to use, what kind of wristband, something to counteract carpal tunnel. In between writing you have to rest your hand or swing them around, massage the back of your right hand, this is all about doing the right kind of exercises. Typing as sport, you have to increment your steps when running, you have to increment the number of times that you push down the keys. This keyboard here is pretty nice, you do not need a lot of force to push a key down. and each of the keys has a frame around it, so you do not mistype a lot. What is annoying though is that the software seems to act up, you tend to suddenly type in a different part of the text. That is kind of weird kind of strange ah strange. 436.
33 253, ah still writing still writing. the day marches forward, but she said that already already. it is pretty sunny outside, it is chilly though in here. it is not as nice a day as the day before, but it still is pretty nice outside. We are writing, there must be meetups in town for creative writing, but they are all too time consuming, we just have to be chained to this very computer in order to finish up. no distraction, nope, none whatsoever. Only work, no play, makes a dull person. There is a saying like that, author here does not really remember it verbatim. the words have to be done, the work has to be done. If you can call it work, writing seems like some kind of play anyways. it is not hard manual labor, though, given that author‘s back hurts, maybe it is. 437. 33 403, propel this to 34 000. To 35 000. Do not stop, ah do not stop. some Swedish woman in curly hair and a beret, she did the whole fifty thousand in seventeen hours. last year, that is. so it is possible, it is definitely doable. Just gotta type and just gotta type. Actually, author‘s job here is pretty easy, she is not fashioning a story, she is just describing the status quo. The plant, the paperbasket, the keyboard. The green sofa maybe, though in this novel, the green sofa is hardly mentioned. Poor green sofa, it is relegated to a supporting role, yup, a supporting actor. The keyboard is the main actor here, and the oscar goes to… - well, nothing but bullshit, arguably arguably. 438. At this rate you will finish on December eight. Wow, when did this happen? She got a pep-talk too, somebody must monitor her wordcount. That happens when you are online, yup, remember Edward Snowden, though, writing some kind of shitty novel should not be that monitorable, that
much worth to monitor. The only thing they want you to do is to contribute money, but, hey that will not happen here, most stuff online is free, so, no. Anyhoo, still typing still tying. 33 611, so much more to do, so much longer to go. 439. 33 625, write on write on. her right wrist is acting up, her back, for moments moments. What time is it, ah, who knows, the sun is shining outside, one can decipher what time it is just by looking outside. Neanderthals did it, so do nano wrimo ppl. 440. What are writers doing in Bochum now, the Bochum group was pretty funny. where exactly is Bochum, somewhere in germany, in the north supposedly. Google it. what time is it there now? The forums are so very entertaining, but we do not have time here, we have to deliver the goods, gotta heap on the words. 441. 33 731. 442. 33 735.
Author‘s eyes are burning here, is this really worth it? just to type in WINNER onto the website. Really, this is such a futile endeavour, kind of like running on a treadmill without ever going anywhere. like a hamster running on the wheel, ah might as well might as well. 443. There should be a bell ringing, one that reminds one that it is time to pause. Like in school. You have to do your work in increments or it will never work. In the right amount of increments. After all, if you do not write the words down and just throw them into the air, if you just say them out loud, it is not literature, once you write them down, it becomes literature, literally. At least you can lay claim to the fact that this is literature. Which is obviously kind of shifty nowadays, you just let it sit in the cloud, the words do not have any physical tactile presence, so the novel resides somewhere in cyberspace. Author ponders, there is a paper in there somewhere, we could definitely write a scholarly well researched article about this. And we have so many more words now, which is all we are shooting for here. we have next to 34 000, well not quite not quite not quite not quite not quite. 444. 33 960. Write on and write on and write on and write on. Still some more words and any kind of words should do here. 445. Ah to sit contorted and type, apparently that is why booze and speed is so fashionable with writers. hard liquor, that is what writers need. and maybe a pen, some paper of sorts.
446. 34 020, ah great ah great. writing down great inside of yay, now there is an improvement. 447. She could use the left hand now, let us all play ambidextrous here. after all, this too will pass, a year from now we can all look back at this and laugh. Or we will still write another novel, after all there will be still another november, huh. 448. 34 083. 449. Type on. 450. Write on. 451. 34 096. It is near noon, at least that is how it looks. Well, maybe ten thirty, she does not feel like getting up and looking at the clock. The blue icon is way too small, besides, maybe it is better to not look at the time every two minutes. If Shakespeare would have done that, he would have never finished HAMLET. And Tolstoy, huh. how can you possibly pen a doorstop, if you pause all the time. yup, the trick is to stay put, to will the words forward, that is how it is how it is. well, a good agent does not hurt either, so it seems so it seems.
452. She suddenly feels like having brie, but, hey, gotta loose weight, no cheese 4 you. 453. After this is finished, she has to check, if all these numbers are right, if they are correct. 454. And we have to make sure, that the first word in each sentence is capitalized, for some weird and strange reason the software refuses to do so automatically. 455. Still writing still writing, well, sometimes we do not capitalize the first word in a sentence for stylistic reasons. Yup, that happens too. writing is pretty fickle, especially creative writing, so it seems so it seems. 456. So, now we have typed up a third of a thousand, gotta really count all these chunks, that is how this marches forward much more fluently. 457. Still writing ah still writing. author here really likes the word AH, it is so versatile, it gives everything a tinge of style. At least that is what we are shooting for here, not necessarily successfully. But, hey, everything is debatable, when is it stylish, when is it false pathos aka kitsch.
458. Still writing ah still typing. 459. There are definitely funner things to do with one‘s time than to sit at a fuckin‘ computer. just saying. 460. At this rate you will finish on December seven. Huh, pretty good, this is going along. 461. Words written today: 4744. Wow. A mini-treatise. How long is a dissertation? Besides, we do not even have to defend it. just put it out there into the world, whether the world wants it or not. the motto of nanowrimo seems to be: THE WORLD NEEDS YOUR NOVEL, well, this is definitely a highly debatable statement, especially given that only 250 novels out of 200 000 are published. Or even less, apparently only 250 out of the cumulative work of eleven years have been published. But we digress, numbers are not that important, gotta love the process, that is the mantra for starving artists everywhere and anywhere. 462. We have near to 500 chunks of words here, 500 chunks on 126 pages. something is definitely wrong with this system of dividing the words. we will change this later on, will have something like book one, book two, book three or just regular chapters. Each author does her own thing anyways, there are so many ways to do this as there are writers.
463. Ah, still writing, ah, still typing. It is pretty sunny outside, no blue sky though. greyblue sky instead of babyblue. 464. 34 629. 465. 43 630. Yup, December seven. We have near to five thousand WORDS THAT WERE WRITTEN TODAY, author here ponders, how many of those words were worth reading? And we type on and type on, selfdoubt does not live here anymore. 43 670, go on and go on. 466. A banana for lunch, a too ripe one, a so very ripe one. not necessarily enough, but this has to suffice for now, gotta write on and write on. 467. Yup, it is eleven and a half, which means, we are writing now since seven. Four hours and a half, ah this better be good better be good. five thousand words in five hours, give or take some, this comes to a thousand words per hour. If you type 100 words per minute, you can easily type up 6000 words per hour. Which comes to 30 000 words in five hours. 60 000 words in ten hours. so, technically, you could write a novella in one day. if you pay people to read this, you are in business. Something is wrong with all of these calculations, so it seems so it seems. Her lower
back is hurting, on the left side more than the right side, it is not noon as of yet, and we write and write, write this into utter oblivion, the day marches forward, a novel is born. 468. Apparently, it is so much better to write when the telly is not on, that is why she got so much more work done today as compared to the day before. no TV, huh, who would have thought. 469. So utter silence is good, actually a lot of the novelists listen to music, there is even a category on the website where you can list the music that you listen to while writing. 470. 34 939, apparently. Author here is not quite sure if she is reading the word count icon accurately, nope, apparently not, we are so very near to 35 000 here- or maybe not maybe not. 471. And writing and writing. this is kind of like driving, driving cross country. you start out in Alaska, end up in Oregon. Start out in zero-word-land, end up in fifty-thousand-word land. 472. 45 002, yay, ah, great. 473. At this rate you will finish on December six. pretty good, huh. we might be dead by the end of this month, but, hey, the novel is finished.
474. Stomach ache, apparently there was something in the banana. 475. Still writing, ah, still typing. This is getting ah so boring, but seems as if whining does not help either. Just have to type this up and type all of this up. 476. The plant near the window, the paper basket on the ground. nothing to describe there. 477. How many words did we write today? Or pen today, after all penning sounds so much better. you have got to make sure that you pen a novel, writing a novel, huh, that is for mere mortals. They will never make it into the pantheon of literary greats, you know, ah, you know. 478. Words written today: 5478. Huh. something like that, something of that kind. At this rate, December six it is. 479. Still typing a-typing. 480. Twelve oh two, noon. The day spent writing, well, at least the morning. in a dingy room, one can hear construction going out outside. what is more fun, a construction site or a writing site.
Neither, maybe, it is all hard work. So it seems, so it seems. Her neck hurts, comes with the territory. Well, at least you cannot fall when you write. 481. Some more words and still some more words. no sitcoms today, no laugh tracks. Just typing and typing. 482. 35 258. Still December six, still less than 6000 words written today. Apparently, we have to write more than 2000 words per day, if we want to make it. that sucks, the best scenario would be, if all of this will be finished by the end of this day. then we could rest, well, not in peace. writing is not a mortal endeavour. Author ponders, last year she finished the writing in fourteen days. 483. Words remaining: more than fourteen thousand. Current day: twenty-five. Huh, what are other nano-persons saying? What are they up to? ah, who knows, who knows. the community of nanowrimo, weird, huh, strange. when you are writing everything is strange. what did jim Morrison say? 484. The story, the non-story. Maybe we should pay slight homage to the fact that there is no discernible story in this novel, it is only drivel ah drivel. But, hey, this was mentioned before, so why repeat the obvious?
485. Still writing still writing. 486. Ah, still December six, apparently apparently. When will be the sudden jump to December five, at what word exactly? Let us investigate, seems so much more fun than writing, huh. 487. Author here does not really have that kind of patience, that is why we did not end up in the sciences. We are more the winginish kind aka an artist. 488. 35 720, that us where it suddenly jumps down to December five. Yup, at 35 719 words, you will finish in December six, one word more and you will finish on December five. 489. They say, you can prove anything with statistics, you just move the numbers around, you change the question, something like that, something of that kind. Ah, manipulation, manipulation. It is a tricky business after all. 490. Still writing here, still writing. the day moves forward, we are slaving away at this machine. feeding all these words to the hungry computer, so that it devours them and spits them out onto the monitor. Yup, still writing a-writing.
491. Literary novel, yup, that sounds about right. That is the genre we are shooting for here. 492. Some more words, still some more words. the day bows down to the afternoon, it really looks afternoony already. 493. 35 633, huh. 494. Still writing, huh, still writing. still repeating the same word constructs, until we keel over here or something. outside, construction, in here, silence, ah silence. 495. Thirty-five- six-six-three, her feet start tingling. Ah the boredom of typing, the boredom of writing. the words are not entertaining enough, the author is falling asleep. The reader though should be wide awake. Entertainment is highly overrated, books are bound to make yer fall asleep. Comes with the territory, comes with the territory. 496. 35 717. Writing ah writing. by now it must be December five, the website is keeping score after all after all. 497.
Yup, writing to the machine, against the machine, with the machine. 498. 35 751. 499. Something. 500. Anything. 501. Chapter 501, that is, ah, this cannot be right. 502. Wow, six thousand words in six hours or so, boring ah boring. An inconsequential novel, so it seems, so it seems. Not war and peace, not even close, not even close. Yup, a bunch of words, maybe, rewriting will help, should help. eventually, eventually. 503. Slight sickness, sniffles, the like and the like. writing is bad for your health, so it seems so it seems. Besides, who needs the notoriety, huh. 504. Still writing still writing.
505. She checked it, if she reaches 42 000 then she will make it after all. she could of course stop now, do the main part of the writing in the days to come. there are all these different options, you can postpone this, or you can march it forward. one thing is clear, this has to be done, if you set out to write fifty thousand words you better stick to it. there is no real reason, after all, you will not get paid, but there is something to be said for a goal that you set for yourself and you reach it. you might be a better writer, once you have finished, you might be a worse writer. But that is not really what is important. you take a stab at writing and you see where it will take you. writing is always a foray into unchartered territory, you have no clue where the words will take you in the end. you just listen to the words in your head, this is how composing music must feel like. Or singing some kind of self-made tune, you make it up while you go along. Anyhoo or btw, we have 36 000 here, great or yay, whichever exclamation you see fit. This is getting more interactive by the minute. 506. There is a queens write-in at panera at six or at seven in the evening. no, apparently, we will not be able to make it, after all it is a five hour flight between vancitay and nyc. but, hey, you can check up on all the meetings anywhere in the world. yup, the world needs your novel, the website says so. here, on these shores, there is an early morning write-in in the waves in downtown, the one near the library. Author here has not been at any of the meetings, she could have gone to one while she was in toronto, then again, she always loses her way over there. And we write here write here write here write here. 507.
Still more words and still some more words. We are on the bottom of page 134, which is ok, somehow. There are still so many more words that have to be delivered, gotta write and gotta write. 508. 36 724 words, how about watching tv now? a james bond film, tomorrow never dies. It is kind of difficult to watch it while writing, anyhoo, now it is a ―shreddies‖ commercial. 509. An ad for snickers, an ad for a tooth brush. Just write on write on. 510. And once more, pierce brosnan in hamburg. 511. Still writing and still writing. 512. 36 287. 513. The king of queens on the telly, laugh tracks, laugh tracks, laugh thracks. 514. At this rate you will finish on December five.
515. It is the episode where Spence plays shuffle board. it is really funny. 516. 36 330. 517. 36 331, 518. Still gotta pile up all of these words. about five thousand of them by the end of the day. there is no story here, but who really cares. The fun is in the typing. The pushing down of the letters. very meditative. The zen of typing, so it seems. And now we have Seinfeld. Well, not quite yet. first, a commercial for fios, now an ad for the pogo mix. And seinfeld it is. 519. It is the episode with the Cadillac, but first an ad for kmart, now an ad for swiffer. We still have to write, now an ad for sears, for the black Friday sale. author here has no clue what else to write about, she still has to make up fourteen thousand words in order to finish this up. now there is an ad for a place called paul‘s tv. now, George and Elaine at the diner, and a woman named Katie. It is the one who knows marisa thomei. Marisa thomei, the actress. It is pretty funny, obviously, it is seinfeld. Now back to Kramer and Seinfeld, actually back to george and Seinfeld. They talk about marisa thormey. And then there is the story with the cable guy. So, basically there are three subplots. Anyhoo, we type here and type here and type here and type here.
520. My cousin Vinnie. Huh. 521. Still December five. We just have to sit here and write on, all these words have to be slithered onto the page. now george and the cable guy. 522. It is fourteen minutes after two. what to write about that? some philosophical waxing about how time flies? Ah, has been done before, better, more philosophical. On the telly, an ad for ford, a black Friday ad. now an ad for an internet plan. Or a calling plan. Whatever, whichever. And back to Seinfeld it is. jerry coming in to his parents‘ place in florida. The Cadillac is bought. 523. Once more, Kramer. 524. 36 666. 525. We are so near to 7000 words. 7004 words. 526.
7000 words written in one day, that is quite a lot if you are a two-finger-typer. It would not really count if you can type with ten fingers, but if all you do is hit and peck then it is pretty tough to type seven thousand words in one day. at least that is how this novelist feels. 527. Thirty-six thousand and seven hundred thirty-nine words, that is where we are at here. which means that we still have to type a lot more, yup, still a lot more. words about the toughness of writing, songs that elaborate about what it means to pour your heart out to the paper. well, technically it is a laptop, but who‘s counting. And the term counting is not really accurate in this case, but, hey, writing is tough, you somehow have to tuck in all of the loose ends in a nice and fluently flowing word installation. 528. 36 833. At this rate you will finish on December four. Not bad, huh. we still have to deliver some words here, then it is time to sit back and enjoy the happiness of a day well done, better yet, a job well done. 529. What to write about? on the telly now, two and a half men. 35 893. 530. A whole writing day, a whole working day. this is the second day of total writerly immersion and it does not feel good. one thing is clear, she would never make it through the three-day-labour
weekend, when you are supposed to write fifty thousand words. author here would only make it to thirty thousand. 531. 36 950. 532. At this rate you will finish on December four. She is not quite sure if she said that already, at this point we are losing count here. writing is so utterly exhausting. That is how it is how it is. 533. This book is ah so boring, there is no story line, there is no cliffhangerish excitement. There are no deep insights, this novel fails on so many levels. But, hey, the wordcount marches forward, we are near to entering novella-land here. 534. 37 036. 535. Thirty-seven zero three nine. We still need twelve thousand or so words to write here. one potato today, one banana, three Turkish honey pieces, one banana bread. That is what she had today, how many calories are that? maybe, eight hundred. 37 080. Write on and write on, write on. 536. Outside it is really late afternoonish. A day wasted at the type writer.
537. The plant near the window, the paper basket is down on the floor, the green couch is where it always is. maybe, we should go back to painting, draw interiors, the like, the like. writing is so boring, mainly because you cannot move around. Dictating the words would be so much better, you can then transcribe them later on. on the telly, they always advertize this software called DRAGON. Apparently it is for writers, you talk to the computer, you have a book. that is how it is how it is. 538. Now, an ad for a mattress store. An ad for a cleaning product. And ad for Honda. Big bang is coming up, it is that time of the day. but first an ad for a diamond store, a jewellery store. An ad for mascara. you are worth it. actually, there is still another two and a half men. 539. 37 255 words, and we write we write we write. 540. All of these words all of these words. on the telly, an ad for a perfume. An ad for a pain medication. An ad for x-finity. An ad for a radio show. An ad for a car company. and now an ad for some kind of butter. And once more, two and a half men. 541.
37 321 words. still 4000 words are needed in order to propel this up to the required wordcount for today. There are only five days left to finish this novel. 37 351. Actually, there are six days remaining to finish this novel. 542. Now alan and jake. Now some laugh track. alan and herb. Judith. 543. An ad for j.c.penney. now an ad for a movie. An ad for Honda. All these ads, short films with a more fascinating story arc than this novel here. anyhoo, let us still write and still write here. try to express anything while using up as many words as humanly possible. An ad for applebee‘s, an ad for kmart. 544. Once more jake and Charlie. 545. 37 443. 37 445. 546. 1043 photos from nanowrimo meetings, seems people just socialize instead of writing their words. well, author here prefers the writing part, why not and why not and why not and why not. 547. An ad for mazda. Zoom zoom. An ad for a certain kind of knee surgery. Weird, huh.
548. To paint with words, pretty tough, huh. outside, evening is pretty near, we could write about that. 549. 37 518. At this rate you will still finish on December four. And on the telly, an ad for ford. Writing is so utterly boring, especially if there is no plot. And now, it is big bang. 550. An episode that we have never seen here. lennard and Sheldon. Now penny. 551. 37 thousand and still some words. now the big bang title song. An ad for shoes, an ad for a department store, an ad for a mattress store. An ad for Honda. Michael Bolton singing. And we have 37 608 here, an ad for Columbia sportswear. 352. This episode is from 2013. Laugh tracks, laugh tracks. 353. Now penny, now lennard, Sheldon and amy. And we write here and write here. nine hours of writing, well, at least we have seven thousand and five hundred words here. so much writing in one sitting, it is exhausting. 354. 37 666.
At this rate you will still finish on December four. 2013. Now penny and lennard. Outside, dusk is pretty near. One whole day of writing, from dawn to dusk. Author here started writing when it was still dark outside. writing a novel is quite a tough job. Especially when it is not really a novel in the conventional way. anyhoo, now Sheldon and amy bickering. And laugh track after laugh track. an ad for iPad Air and Target. An ad for dunkin donuts. An ad for a tv-show, an ad for a car company. 37 672, author here feels like barfing. An ad for Mitsubishi, an ad for another tvshow. An ad for dunkin donuts, once more. am ad for a movie. An ad for a carpet company. xfinity. Author is still writing still writing. her neck hurts. And here is another car company ad. 37 814. Nespresso and the Spanish actress, Penelope cruz. An ad for a company that makes carpets. And Bernadette and penny. 37 837. Howard and raj. Now lucy. Sheldon and amy. And raj and lucy once more. 355. Author is not quite sure if this is the right chapter. Somehow she thought that she made it to 500 already, somewhere there must have been a mistake. Well, that happens, we can even that glitch out later. 356. Penny and lennard. 37 893. Amy and Sheldon. 357. An ad for mazda. An ad for a furniture store. An ad for some kind of rice. And Sheldon it is. 358. And still another big bang episode.
An ad for a car company. an ad for Duracell. An ad for Honda. 37 941. And Sheldon it is again. 359. At this rate you will finish on December three. Yay. 360. Words written today: more than eight thousand. And now, an ad for misubishi heat pumps. An ad for a sportswear. An ad for FORD. No ad now, still the ford ad actually. An ad for dunkin. Lennard and Sheldon. Now the party at raj‘s. wolowitz, hofstatter, Sheldon, priya. They have fajitas. Now Sheldon and penny. 38 015. 38 017. Now amy and Sheldon. 361. 38 026. Words per day to finish in time: 1996. So we still have to keep on clucking. An ad for target, an ad for k and g fashion superstore. An ad for the fishing industry, actually for a documentary, now an ad for lexus. An ad for x-finity. 38 073, will this never ever end? an ad for nespresso once more, still with Penelope. An ad for KIA. An ad for the fashion store once more. an ad for a movie, and back to big bang it is. 362. Sheldon, zach, stuart, barry cripkey. Penny and Bernadette and amy. 30 124 words, write on and write on and write on and write on and write on. 363. 38 142.
364. Still stuart and Sheldon and zach and kripky, all kinds of laugh tracks, this is definitely not a good novel, it is all about what is on the telly. some kind of experimental literature maybe. now priya and raj and wolowitz and lennard. And laughtracks. Outside it is so near darkness. 365. Amy and Bernadette and penny. 366. 38 203. 367. Now Sheldon joining the others. would you want some homemade chilly? Priya, do you know why this is called a toast?- anyhoo, now an ad for L.L.BEAN. and now, dunkin. An ad for mascara, we are worth it. an ad for Toyota. 38 248. An ad for king of queens. And now, still another sitcom episode. Rules of engagement. Outside it is dark now, we have been writing for nine hours straight here, actually make that ten hours. ten hours of writing, but not much to show for it. only aching bones, maybe. 368. An ad for a wine accessory, whatever that is. apparently it is a good gift. Now an ad for x-box. An ad for Duracell, this is what we write about here. words have to amass, after all it is november. 369.
Bottom of page 145. This is so insane. Ad after ad after ad. an ad for dog food, an ad for a coffee maker. An ad for a tv-show. And back to the sitcom it is, it is. 38 379. 370. It is a funny show, we could describe it, but that is kind of getting lame. An ad for a deodorant, an ad for vodka. An ad for kindle, an ad for a tv-show. And back to the sitcom it is. laugh track galore. 38 426. 371. 38 430. 372. 38 432. 373. Laugh tracks laugh tracks. 374. Still writing and still writing. Apparently this is going pretty good, we might just finish this text in time. keep on typing and typing. Author ponders, she hardly ever typed for such a long time. except four years ago when she was supposed to type a manuscript up to send to an editor. Which was actually the only time that someone asked for her manuscript. Seems the first query she ever wrote had all the right words therein. 375.
And we still write and still write. maybe 1500 words more in order to be in the black, so to speak. And here is another episode of rules of engagement. Author here has not seen this one, which is fine, one can watch the telly and write up a novel, how tough could it be. 376. 38 576 words, still writing and still sriting. More than ten hours of typing, of wordsmithing. This is really really exhausting. 377. We have totally mixed up all of these mini chapters, maybe the story of this novel is all about the so very confused novelist. The one that has no clue how to do this. the one who is only concerned with the wordcount. 378. An ad for a vacuum. An ad for life insurance. At this rate you will still finish on December three. And now an ad for the shopping channel. And now an ad for another tv show still. and once more rules of engagement. 379. And still writing and still writing. 380. And once more stating the fact that we are still writing here. 381.
And still writing some more. on the telly once more two and a half men. Some laugh tracks or something. it is pretty dark outside, it is night. ten hours, eleven hours of writing, at this point author here has lost all count. well, she did not write all of the time, but most of the time, then a walk outside through the fresh air, some chatting on the phone, but mostly it was writing. a writingish day, thus her neck hurts. The part between the shoulder blades mostly. 382. This is definitely a rerun, she has seen it before. come to think of it, author has seen this episode before today. Kind of weird to refer to yourself as THE AUTHOR, but, hey, this seems to work just fine. The third person singular, the most coveted view point in anynovel. And we type and write and type and write here. 383. 38 858 words, write on and write on. 384. Words per day to finish in time: 1867. The website cannot be wrong. Words written today are nine thousand and something. Her fingers hurt, her back hurts, so do her shoulders. Ah, all these muscles are not used to this kind of overuse. 385. On the telly, all of these laugh tracks. It now is alan and Judith and dr. melnik. And here is a commercial for audi. Now an ad for loblaws or superstore, wherever you live. An ad for London drugs, now an ad for shreddies. An ad for stella artois. And back to ―men‖ it is it is.
386. 38 968 words, write on and write on. 387. 38 977. 23 words to 39 000. And anyword should do. 388. 38 990. Ten more words to thirty-nine thou. 389. Two words and 39 000 it is it is. 390. 2000 words maybe to 41 000. Which seems to be what we need here. 391. All of these laugh tracks are kind of annoying. Now, alan and dr. melnik again, they are painting the baby‘s room. alan makes up stuff that he tells to dr. melnik. 392. Now an ad for London drugs. Yup, that is what we write about here. and now there is an ad for shredded wheat. An ad for Maybelline new york. A mattress store, cough drops. Biggest loser, and back to ―men‖. 393.
One thousand words. in order to make it down to forty thousand. There is nothing to describe here, there is the telly with all its songs, there is the paper basket and the plant near the window. there is walter Cronkite talking. In black and white, it is the documentary about jfk again. and we have 39 153 words here. author ponders, where will she get the rest of the words from. Should she suddenly write about zombies or hobbits, about space ships or other surreal objects. Everything in a novel is fiction, and if push comes to shove, author here is not very interested in made-up stuff. why dabble in fiction when non-fiction is more fascinating. 394. At this rate you will finish on December two. 395. Ah still writing still writing. the jfk documentary is still on. author here still needs a lot of words to make it to fifty thousand, her arms hurt from all this pushing down of all these keys. Once more, a film of the scene in dallas, now the daughter of the person who took the film is talking. They reconstruct the happenings of that day. anyhoo, we are still writing and writing. four more words to propel this forward to 39 300. 396. Still some more words and still some more words here. author‘s hand is cramping up. she is really tired, but, hey, gotta sit through this, gotta write this and write this. a so very silent novel, where the writer of these words is the protagonist, the laptop has to stand in as the antagonist. And what forceful antagonist it is, fighting the author every step of the way. 397.
Still writing still typing. Some ads and once more walter conkrite, this time in color. 39 392. Ah, typing is so very annoying. Well, not if you do it every day for a short time, but if you leave it all for two days, that is way too much of an undertaking. 398. And we still type and we still write. now walter conkrite again. 399. Author here can hardly sleep, she wakes up after three or four hours, the novel keeps her up at night, the thought of the task that has to be fulfilled. It is now three thirty or something in the middle of the night, well, more like early morning, on the telly flimmers the channel in nyc, pix 11, it is early morning over there, actually, six thirty, the anchors are of course wide awake, a woman with her microphone, now a weather image. Apparently the temperature is pretty chill over there, anyhoo, now one can see a commuter image, the bridge, the lights and there are lots of bridges over there. now a man in front of a highway, apparently the news is all about the holiday storm, weather will be bad over the thanksgiving holiday, the man has no hair and a dark coat. What is funny is that all four anchors are wearing black, the two who are in the studio and the two who are outside in the field. Anyhoo, we have 39 618 here, the wordcount amasses, end of november is coming near so near so near so near so near so near so near so near. 400. A woman in times square talking to the camera, she has a pink shawl, and back to the studio, a heavyset woman in a black leather jacket, all make-up, now an image of the new mayor of new york, the one with the Italian name
401. At this rate you will finish on December three, seems that that is pretty good, author here might just finish this in time after all. 402. An ad for a car, all sparkly, all shiny, infiniti. now an ad for an internet provider, now one for Lysol. Yup, spray the germs away. and now an ad for the news program, every news has a story. An ad for sleepy‘s, an ad for a car company. audi. And pix, and audi. Once more the the woman in the leather jacket, apparently something called santacon is back on. heavy rain keeps balloons grounded, must be about the thanksgiving parade. After all, it will be American thanksgiving this Thursday. a woman in black in front of a weather chart, she has blond shoulder long hair, she talks with a lot of gestures, she is wringing her hands, she is competing with the images behind her, all the arrows that are moving, all the clouds, all the seven day forecast charts that are constantly moving over the screen. Now a woman in red talking, both women have a v—neck dress, the dresses are so very similar, except that one is red and the other one is black. 403. An ad for bmw, an ad for Lysol. An ad for dove, an ad for the arsenio hall show. An ad for chevy, an ad for hallmark. An ad for a lotto company, new jersey lottery, once more the times square woman with the pink shawl. Once more a traffic update, once more the woman in black leather. A person who wrote a book about retail shopping, he gives advice about incredible deals. Duh, it is black Friday coming up. he talks about deals at target, walmart, so he is basically pushing deals on the news. Now he talks about appliances at sears. The clip is called savings scoop. Now they talk about return policies, about checking the window that you can return your stuff in. now
a missing person, now a doc talking, now an image of nyc with music in the back, live from new york, the pix eleven morning news. Once more the woman with a v-neck, she has blond hair, this is the one with the black dress, now it is a shot of her face, back to the woman in red, it is s shot of her face too. yup, the weather bunnies either stand or they sit, whatever the camera persons tell them to do. 40 106, write on and write on and write on and write on here. 404. Now they talk about getting a head start on the holiday travel, because of the bad weather. which seems to be the theme of this news program. Once more the woman in the pink shawl in times square, now it is lighter there, seems the day has begun. 405. The woman in pink interviewing people, now back to the studio. 406. 40 182, at this rate you will finish on December three. 407. Now it is a show about dangerous intersections. The different buroughs. It starts with an intersection in brooklyn near Flatbush. A councilman talking. Now back to dan marino, he will talk tomorrow about a dangerous intersection in queens. Once more the woman in black and the weather, now she is standing up again. ah, so much to describe on this show, the images change constantly. And we have 40 262 by now and by now. the woman in red and the traffic, she is standing up too. now a clip about angie‘s gift to brad, now a woman in turquoise.
408. 40 295, 40 298, 40 299, 40 301. 409. Now an upcoming clip about weightloss called dying to be thin, from the images it seems to be about anorexia. An ad for a jewellery store, now an ad for the news show. An ad for new york school public school teachers, an ad for dunkin, an ad for lexus. All luxury, all luxury. An ad for a coffee maker, an ad for who knows what. 410. An ad for jaguar, a news clip about shopping on the day after thanksgiving. 411. Four and twenty-six in the morning. every story hits home. this is the motto on the news show on the telly. now an ad for an hmo, an ad for denny‘s. an ad for some kind of rice. An ad for a department store. It is once more about the holiday storm, this is again the new york news program. Now it is daylight over there, the same persons who were standing in the dark are now standing in the same places, but it is now bright behind them. 412. Now it is an image that is called gfs American model, it is all about the weather. now the woman in black is standing outside in a coat, now the woman in red talking about traffic. 413.
Again the woman in the pink shawl. 414. 40 521. 415. Still writing still writing. 416. Only 5000 words or so, actually make that ten thou. In five days, which means about 2000 words per day. in order to make it to 50 000 by the end of the month, the novel that is all about writing and writing, typing and typing. On the telly, an ad for a multivitamin, now an ad for a car company. Mercedes benz. 417. An ad for dunkin. An ad for a coffee creamer. An ad for KIA. An ad for Chrysler. So many car commercials, and now once more the woman in black, she is out of her coat, she is standing next to the weather charts again. she is talking about wind gusts, about the thanksgiving parade, now the woman in red. seems that her expertise is traffic, whereas the other one is talking about weather. a weather bunny and a traffic bunny. One in red-orange, one in black, both are wearing very similar dresses, except in different colors. uniforms that denote what they do, the black dress is for weather, the red for traffic. That is how it seems, how it seems. Anyhoo, we have 40 717 here, nice, huh, now a Honda ad. 418.
Lounging out, a news clip about fireside lounges in hotels around town in nyc. 419. Polenta fries. The maritime hotel, the jane hotel. 420. An ad for target, an ad for bmw. 421. An ad for a mattress store, sleepy‘s, an ad for dunkin. Another ad for dunkin. An ad for a casino, back to the news. 422. Now, cnn, it is all about the weather. severe conditions, lots of accidents. 423. It is now five minutes after five, time to call it a day, a night, whichever, whatever. This is crazy, all of this typing all of this typing. Days are nights, nights are days, this cannot be good cannot be good. gotta stick to the circadian cycles, in order to stay healthy, that is how it seems how it seems. 424. Maybe some more typing to run this up to 41 000, in order to have a round number, in order to feel some kind of accomplishment, in order to make up for all the writing days that were lost because of the trip to tee dot.
425. 40 907 words. 40 910. 426. 40 913. 427. 40 915. An ad for a car, audi. An ad for a bank, bank of america. we have to still feed about seventy words to this machine here in the early morning. an ad for a coffee maker. An ad for nicorette. An ad for an airline. An ad for something called overstock.com. we still need about thirty words here, in order to propel this to 41 000, sixteen words more, obsessively author here is checking the tiny blue wordcount icon at the bottom of the computer screen. 41 005. 428. At this rate you will finish on December two. 429. 41 018. 430. 41 021. 431.
Later in the day. actually it is eleven or so, near noon. The day is fully awake, so is the world. the day is a mild fall day, autumn at its best. no cold front like on the east coast or the mid west, wonderfully mild british Columbia. The mall was brimming, red x-mas ornamentation, the Y had Zumba just starting up. the fridge in here glimmers and starts its songs, the words have to be typed up typed up. more like ―delivered‖, yup, that is the accurate word, deliver the words to nanowrimo, finish da novella, fast and fast and fast and fast. kerrisdale was busy, by the shops, leaves on the ground, not too warm and not too cold. the weather that is, the leaves are dry, no rain, huh, no rain. We have forty-one thousand and something here, this should be finished in time, will be finished on time. a life at the type writer, huh, this better be good better be good. time well wasted, dunno dunno. We need hard liquor here to make for believability in lit land. There is this slightly amusing clip on the telly, it is part of mike and molly. Molly is at a door and talks to susan Sarandon who asks her how she can prove that she is a real writer. Molly shows her a vodka bottle, susan sarandon‘s character quips: yup, that will do it. the idea of course is that hard liquor is the tool of choice of a writer, maybe even more so than a pen, if you know how to drink you know how to write. which does not say much for the status of writers in our society, people who spin words must be all intoxicated, not really there, they have to be non- inhibited in their words. maybe it comes with the idea that you have to be crazy to speak the truth. Author ponders, there are lots of different ideas about the persona of the writer, but who has time to discuss them, we gotta pile the words onto the page, fast and fast and fast and fast. 41 377, for now and for now and for now and for now. At this rate you will finish on December two, yay and yay. author here has penned near to two thousand today, it really paid off to do the writing in the night. the descriptions of the news
programs on the telly, the discussion of what the weather announcers were wearing. Now there is not much to see here, the telly which is not on at this time, the plant near the window and the full paper basket on the ground. outside the day is in full noon, yup, the sun over the yellow grey orange leaves, backlit, frontlit. The sounds that the computer makes, the taps at the keyboard, the wordcount icon that stands at fort-one five oh four, for moments and moments. 432. At this rate you will still finish on December two, nope, not november thirty as of yet. still gotta hammer at the keyboard, still gotta sit put sit put. We could once more explore nano-land, all those dispatches from all those writer studios, there are even pictures, photos from social gatherings of the writer communities, there was one in nyc, that had one thousand or more photos on flickr, all of those writers posing instead of wordprocessing. The social element is big in nanowrimo, maybe that is why hardly any of the produced books is published. Or maybe the aggressive marketing falls by the wayside when you notice that there are so many persons just like you, who are doing exactly the same thing, you notice that you are a number, you inadvertedly become a number. You are definitely no more the lonely genius, writing seems to come easy to a lot of people, you are one writer of many. which is not good, once you vanish from the podium of specialness, you just become another joe, another jane. It is so much better to hang out with non-writers, it puts things into perspective, you notice that people do different things for a living, yours happens to be writing. yup, something like that, something of that kind. 41 730, type on and write on, write on, write on and write you on. 41745, 41 747. 433.
The numberings in this book are slightly off, they are non-chronological, it is a glitch, that makes the whole thing more artsy. That is our story here and we stick to it stick to it. 434. Still December two, two thousand and thirteen. Make sure that you write your numbers in words, it adds to the wordcount and that is all that matters after all. author ponders, there is nothing anymore about the rob ford saga on the telly these days, yesterda y‘s news is long forgotten today. 435. 41 840, propel this down to 42 thousand words. just like in a race, you can see the finish line, you tumble towards it, trying to muster up all the energy you have got left in your limbs and your muscles. The goal is all that matters, you have got to make your mind go numb for moments so that you can make your way forward, forcefully forcefully. a sprint is of course different from a marathon, this novel writing bis is definitely more like a marathon, you need stamina most of all. the propensity to hang in there, under all conditions, to get the job done, no matter what it takes. you have got to bulldoze you way forward, like a bulldog, funny, how many words have the term BULL in it. we come from agrarian stock, yup, bulls are needed for everything, plowing etcetera etcetera. But hey, I digress, we just need some more words here, five, four, three, one, 42 000 it is it is. at this rate you will finish on December one, yay oh yay. 436. The body freezes up, in front of the computer. the nasty immobility of the typist, her doggedness, her stagnation. Maybe an office would be so much better, a downtown cubicle, a place where diversion lingers everywhere. A place more urban than this, far away from suburbia. That is
where stuff should be written, that is where stuff will be published. The movers and shakers in print and publishing, they live in the city, the bookbinding is done in more rural areas, away from the metropolitan centers. The stockpiling in a warehouse in new Hampshire, that is different from the wordsmithing itself. Author ponders, does she really want to go in depth into analyzing the writingish world, ah, why not, this novel is off-course all of the time anyways. it is rambling at its best at its worst. 437. Fragmented passages, fragmented thought threads, part of living online. Channel surfing, internet surfing, the like and the like. author here changed her mind, no in-depth talk about printing and publishing for you, it is all online anyways. hers should be the world of artsy poetry anyways, after all we trained at an art school here. There is a certificate hanging somewhere, positing that this certifies that so and so is an artist. A certified artist, a registered artist. Yup, if there is no institution behind yer you are nothing. no documentation, no bureaucracy that was fed by your very existence, ah, the horror, the horror. 42 263, type and write on, write on and write on, write on. 438. Next to three thousand words in one day, she still is not in ―at this rate you will finish on november thirty‖ land. Wow, how much longer do we have to sit still here, how much longer do we have to type? Definitely slave labour, this is how galley rowers must have felt. Galley, galeere, the word for those ships in the old times, where slaves would turn the rudders. You cannot move, you are chained in ONE place, a typewriter does that to you, there is no motion of the body, you have to sit still. a driver is the same, if you sit behind the rail of a semi all day long,
there is little wiggle room for the body. anyhoo, we type this up type this up and type this all up. 42 412, write on and write on and write on and write on. 439. Apparently, THE SHINING was a film about a writer, that is what the nano-wrimo pep talk number fifty-seven says, a letter by someone named ralph peters. Jack Nicholson played a man who got bonkers, maybe it was another actor. Author here has never seen it, she remembers an episode of friends though, where it was all about that particular movie. Or maybe, it was another sitcom. If you have seen enough tv and cinema, it all mushes together after a while. and, of course, there is music and literature, art. we are bombarded by images, we live in a so very visual world. which is a tad good for a writer, a tad bad though, all your thoughts are way too fragmented, it is tough to order them in order to produce a cohesive text. Author is getting better at trying to construct a novel, it seems that three subplots is all we need here, three main plots that are strung together. or that are happening parallel to each other. maybe one main story is the clearest way to go, romeo and Juliet, everybody can see that the story is about these two persons named romeo and Juliet, one male and one female, everybody can identify with that, because all the viewers, all the readers are either male or female. Yup, that is how art works, very simple, thus, a novel is very simple too. the less convoluted the better. story writing one oh one, and we have 42 six seven three here, write on and type on, type on and type on type on. 440. Still December one, apparently the Ralph peters guy has written thirty books, thus he supposedly knows what he is talking about. if you have written a lot of words you can easily talk shop, provide advice for others. author here has written quite a lot of long pieces of text too, actually
about ten 300-thousand-word-long yarns since 2008. Five years of constant writing, yup, this better be good better be good. no more filmmaking though, no more animations. Still some visual art, performance pieces, urban interventions. Anyhoo, write on here write on here, while the sunnyness of the outside is omnipresent. March the wordcount forward, while outside is happening ah happening, happening, ah, happening. You are a poet and you know it, yup, apparently, apparently. 441. Better propel this up to forty-three thou. 442. On the telly, a show about the width of airplane seats. Apparently all the seats are getting slimmer across the board, while passengers are getting bigger, wider. Author ponders, on her flight to toronto and back, on westjet, she was sitting near a so very big person, both times. usually she tends to sit next to slim persons, not this time. 443. On the telly, the bbc is doing its thing. Something about an independent Scotland. The woman who talks is wearing a blue suit. 444. Still some more words till some more words. 445. It is one oh five, author here types letter after letter up. while listening in to the news.
446. A man in a dark suit talks to the interviewer, still another man. Yup, lots of talking heads. And now a landscape. now a street scape. Two persons again in the studio, one is a man, one is a woman. the theme is still an independent Scotland. Actually, the journalist is talking about spain and Cataluña and the bask region, so that is actually what one thinks about first. Maybe, the Alsace. Elsass-lothringen. 447. 43 015. 448. A news clip about austerity and canned foods. An ad for THE ECONOMIST. 449. Now a show about Portugal. Eurozone, the like and the like. the Portuguese parliament. A woman talking, in grey and white and blond. Protestors. One man talking to the camera. a grocery store, a yellow tram. an atm-machine, a building that looks, well, very Portuguese. A pretty woman with a demonstration board in her hand, a sign. now a picture of the pope. now a man in Washington. 450. Pope criticizes capitalism, that is the headline. Now they are talking about cronienism, about hongkong. Apparently they are saying that there is less corruption in hongkong. Well, they use the word cronienism instead of corruption.
451. Still the woman in the suit talking. 452. The show is about canned mackerel and canned sardines. Actually author here likes canned fish, tuna fish, greek salad. 453. Now a woman in red, she has brown hair and is very pretty. 454. The woman in red talks about economics. She has a british accent. Apparently she is talking about the housing market in north Carolina. 455. The woman thanks us for watching bbc business edition. You are welcome. Now a weather bunny, a lad in a dark blue suit. He talks about seattle and nyc. now, the gulf of mexico and cuba. Costa rica, thank you. there is a globe spinning in the back. now an ad for ―progressive‖, it is an insurance company for cars. An automotive insurance company, maybe that is the accurate word. a guy in a supermarket, his name is guy something. now an ad for recycling, every can that you do not recycle says something about you. click, bbc world news. 456. Now, hardtalk, it is a rerun of the interview with the medical ethicist.
457. It is eighteen minutes after one and we have 43 330 words here, still we have not reached today‘s allotment of words. last year we finished on day fourteen, the year before we had forty-two thousand words by the end of november. The year before, no participation in nanowrimo, in 2009, she participated but only did it in longhand, because the laptop broke down. The transcribing later on took forever. At this rate you will finish on november 30, yay, time to call this a day. 458. Words written today, huh, near to 4000. Four thousand words in one day, the day before it took her eleven hours to type double this, today the writing goes so much faster. Yup, practice makes perfect, at least it makes fast. on Sunday writing went much slower, Monday was much better and today, Tuesday, it goes really really fast. 43 464. Ah well ah well. 459. Words written today: 4027. Huh, huh, huh, huh. whatever that might mean, on the telly still hardtalk, hardtalk. 460. How about finishing all of this work. Seinfeld. And now marisa tomei and george in central park on a bench. she punches him. now back to florida. 461. Elaine, let me ask you a question. Are you having an affair with George? Art vandelay.
462. Impeachment of seinfeld‘s dad. Laugh tracks. Haha. 463. Maybe if we wait and write the rest on the other days, the writing will become better. just watching what is on the idiot box does not make for good writing. then again, what really does? writing makes for good writing, so they say, just doing something continually will produce superior work. Just like doing exercise, if you train enough you will be in the Olympics. Well, in theory at least, elbow grease is the very minimum that has to be provided in any field. The quip about transpiration and inspiration holds true for everything and anything, though, if the one per cent inspiration is just not there, then you are screwed, but, hey, you have died trying. And once more, Seinfeld. But first, a denny‘s ad. now, the ode to Nixon is so funny, funny, funny, funny, funny. 464. Now, the middle. Suburbia, ah, suburbia. 465. Now, how I met your mother. It is funnier. 466. 43 700 words. 467.
Days remaining: 5. 468. Evening in front of the telly. how about feeding some more words here to the machine. We have 43 700 and something here, rush this up to 34 000, yup, why not and why not. a talking head on the telly, it is bbc international, there are three persons talking about the newspaper headlines in europe, Figaro, corriere della sera, the like and the like. the show serves as the background music to author‘s writing here, now they discussed an article in the frankfurter allgemeine about the pope. 469. So, is it a novel in the traditional sense? I do not know, what exactly constitutes a novel in the traditional sense? Author here read an article in the boston globe which framed the national novel writing month as a hotbed for persons who either gave it thumbs up or thumbs down, so the whole shebang was framed as an issue about legitimacy, is it legit to write for nanowrimo, do real writers participate in it, do good writers participate in it. real writers are supposed to be the persons who publish their novels, who go on book tours, whose work has an isbn number, as if that is some kind of approval, because it adhered to certain standards of bureaucratic scrutiny. If push comes to shove, in the nanowrimo world the only thing that matters is the wordcount, once you have finished fifty thousand words you are a winner, and if you have not finished in time than you are still named a participant. So, it is basically a war of semantics. Yup, the stuff we write is non-peerreviewed, but that in itself does not make it less readable. One thing is for sure, nobody gives a shit if some third-rate lecturer at some godforsaken school does not approve, nanowrimo has
gained momentum, mainly because of its utterly functional website and because of its cult-like following. In a world of marathons and Olympics, the healthy tinge of competition makes nanowrimo work. After all, that is how the school system works, you pit kids against each other, who knows this, who knows that, you let people compete against each other, the more competent ones win, the rest goes to another field. Anyhoo, be that as it may, we have 44 072 words here, , write on and type on and type on, type on, type on, type on, type on, type on and type on. 470. There will be a tgio party at boston pizza in new west on Sunday, tgio means thank god it is over, author here is not quite sure if she wants to make that long trek out to the boonies, one thing is clear, it would be nice to talk to others who have done this. after all, she did not participate in any of the events as of yet and it seems as if there is no time, she has to sit here and write and type and type. No time for socializing, we are still way too much behind. 44 196, write on and write on. usually she had such a head start that there was ample time to socialize, not this time around, not and not and not and not. 471. Words per day to finish on time: 1444. Seems doable ah doable. The insanity of this whole endeavour is so omnipresent, but our inner obsessive creature is taking over here, over here. 472. She could rattle thru all of this, then go back and edit it in one big whoosh. There are different tactics, so very differing strategies. In the world of literarture, in the contemporary world of lit, there are so many little factors that will make or break yer. yup, so it seems, so it really really
really seems. According to goetze, writing in english is a plus, you will reach the biggest audience possible. He himself forewent Afrikaans, he made a conscious choice to use the english language for his books. At least that is what he told listeners at a speech in india. Anyhoo. We are still typing here still writing here. today is november 27, not much time to finish this ah finish this. and yuh the place was jaipoor, that is where goetze gave his speech. 473. Four and seven and three. Writing at the kitchen table, ah, this better be good better be good. 474. Words written today are six seven eight. The day before she penned 4000, four thousand, the day before that nine thousand. And still before that, 4000. She could easily finish this today, to get it over with to get it over with. There are other things to do with one‘s life, penning a godforsaken piece of, well, insert any expletive you like in here, is not one of them. the isolation of the writer‘s studio is way too deafening, there are better places to type, a coffee shop, a tea house, an office. Somewhere where there is a water cooler to gather and exchange gossip. A place with open cubby holes, a place where persons gather. Writing ah writing. a person and her words. her shitty words, her superb words. her amazingly articulate ones., her eloquent wordy constructs. The right words at the right time. yup, something like that something of that kind. The right song, the right uttering. Something like that… but, hey, we said that already already. author looks around, the fridge is suspiciously quiet today, no singing, ah, no roaring. Only author‘s humming, only her typing. Something clicks in the distance, who knows what it is, there are all these electronical devices that make funny noises whenever they feel like it. anhyhoo, let us type here and type here. 44 636, for now and for now.
475. Words written today: 931. Near to a thousand already. after a foray to the coffee place inside of the mall, after a stint in the Y. author here got a pear, a banana and a tuna fish salad, breakfast of champions, lunch of champions. Breakfast was banana loaf bread and coffee with cream. coffee cream to be precise. They have half and half, too, but coffee cream seems to be fattier. It is a bow to the fact that you can have grease, but only in small tiny amounts. Portion control is where it is at. After all, there are 50 000 items in a super market to chose from, 40 000 of those being food items. Anyhoo, we write and we write, this should stand at one thousand already already. 476. 44 800. 477. 44 801. 478. 44 806. 479. Write on and write on and write on and write on. the loneliness of the long distance runner, the loneliness of the long distance writer. More words ah more words, day-in and day-out. 480. Still some more.
481. And still some more, some more and some more. 482. The day before she fell asleep after the four thousand words, typing makes yer really tired. Huh, so it seems and so it seems. 483. We have to wax philosophically here, some sentences that sound intelligent, intellectual, even if they are anything but. 484. Fort-four nine oh four. One hundred more to make it up to forty-five thou. A game of numbers, a game of numbers. Ah, how many books have you written in five years? ten, I suppose. Aha, that in itself makes you a good enough writer. It is irrelevant what you write about, what is important is that you write. there is always a niche-audience for something. maybe your relatives or your acquaintances. You can invite them over, give a feast for them, feed them, liquor them up, and then, in an unsuspicious moment., slip them one of your books. Better yet, give each of them a different book. then they will compare notes, but the notes are non-consistent.‘ Cause each of the individuals is referring to a different book. author ponders, that plan is way too confusing. Market one book at a time, that seems better, more doable. Anyhoo, how many words do we have by now, how many how many? 45 063, Ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good ah good. at this rate you will finish on november thirty.
485. Current day is twenty-seven, there are four days left to write. she has to produce about ine thousand and two hundred words per day, she could stop here or just sit and finish this all in one bog swoop. It is eleven A.M. exactly. 486. 49 143. 487. 45 146. She wrote it wrong, yup, read it wrong. That happens with those tine numbers, the wordcount icon is hardly decipherable. 488. 45 169, 45 171. 489. Four five one seventy-four at eleven in the morning pacific time. 490. 45 186. 491. Okay, let us put some more words down. might as well. on the telly, an ad for mc donalds. Maybe that is not what literature should be about. now it is about cheesecake lollipops, ah, a commercial everyone would love. Author saw the cheesecake lollipop in the loblaws in toronto,
the one that is at the corner of carlton and church, in the old maple leaf gardens building. everybody was having a lollipop, unluckily she saw the last one snatched away before her nose. One could of course get the whole pack from superstore but that is not a good idea what with temptation and all. we have a pack of ferrero rocher in the trunk of the car and it will not come inside of the house. Just saying. 492. Some more words ah some more words. 493. Words remaining: 4765. Hmm, what to write about, what to write about? the commercial for hamburger helper on the telly? yup, that is what literature should be about, why not? it is after all a subject matter as good as any. Hamburger helper and what it stands for. metaphorically maybe? now a commercial for wendy‘s, they have a new burger. Now an ad for a show with Pamela Anderson. Ah, the telly, hi-culture. And back to two and a half men, definitely hi-culture. The US as a melange of TV and malls, that would sell well anywhere. a new take on the old ―ugly American‖ theme. Anyhoo, type on and type on here. 494. Lots of dishes waiting to be done. the exploding sink, author here had fish and fruit and tofu, which is arguably healthy but there are sure a lot of dishes waiting to be washed. The dish washing liquid will not be good for the hands, thus maybe healthy eating is not good after all. besides you have to use up a lot of water to do all the dishes. What about the environment? 495.
A car commercial. An ad for a furniture store. Everything black Friday. Still another car commercial, a yoghurt ad, an ad for dyson. 496. Googling dyson, reading through an interview with dyson. How did we live before google? 497. Still november thirty. still two and a half men on the telly. author ponders, we could finish this in one big scoop and have it over with. 498. Words written today: 1886. And we are writing and writing. all of these words and all of these words. gotta propel this forward, finish in time and finish in time. maybe even much much sooner. Fifty thousand is all we need here, fifty thousand ah fifty thousand. The nanowrimo forums are so very very interesting. 499. And we are still writing still writing here. so many words that still have to be fed to the machine, which is kind of tough because, hey, we still do not have a story here. 500. 45 676. 501.
45 678. On the telly a weather bunny, in a three-piece suit and glasses and no hear. Yup, weather bunnies come in all shapes and sizes. Now an ad that reminds you to recycle. 45 714 words. 502. On the telly comet ison. 503. On the telly, the woman in lavender and black giving the news on bbc international. Now a man talking about industrial espionage. 504. The novel is coming to its end, this is the conclusion. Well, we are so very happy here that we will finish this in time, there are 45 772 words written up, which is all we need all we need. well, technically we need some four thousand and something more, but then it will be over, the novel will be done. nanowrimo finished until next november, november 2014. 505. Checking out the Johannesburg forum, they have a roll call for the joburgers, well, now we know that people from Johannesburg are called joburgers. Seems kind of like an Afrikaans term. Author checked out the site of the woman who posted the roll call, it is all about a bike tour in Madagascar, it has amazing videos, who would have thought that there is so much amazing entertainment on the nanowrimo forums. One really wants to go to Madagascar after watching the video, but the bike tour is obviously geared to persons that are way more fit than author here.
we can hardly muster the agony and exhaustion of constant typing here, bike riding is definitely out of the question, madagascar or otherwise. 506. Still november 30, 2013. 507. So there we are again, maybe we will write this all up in one big whoosh. Outside the sun is shining, it is American thanksgiving, tomorrow black Friday. Kind of funny, how it is advertized very aggressively here, after all this is not the US. On the telly, maybe there is the macy‘s parade, the remote control must be somewhere, we could watch that watch that. but first gotta send some words up to the machine, gotta listen to the typing, gotta fill the page ah the page. the novel that rutters to its end, the novel, the non-novel. what a waste of time, writing novels, reading novels. On the radio there was this woman talking about historical writing, the documentation of history, herstory. She then went on to describe life in ancient Alexandria, she kind of tied it in with the catholic church, that did not seem right though, she seemed to just make up her own history writing. rewriting history, however it pleases you. anyhoo, still typing and typing and typing and typing here. We have 46 114 words here, only four thousand left to be fed to the hungry machine here. 46 128, write on ah write on and write on, write on. at this rate you will finish on December one, so the website posits ah posits. Author here does not really care about style anymore, she randomly becomes more wordy, even if the writing suffers. In order to garner a higher wordcount, she inserts the word HERE three times in a row, even if it sounds shitty. At this point, the number of the words is all that counts here.
Bottom of page 177, this is quite a wordy text, a novel without real characters. More a journal or something. author went to the Y, she lost about two tenths of a pound since the day before. toronto was good for weightloss, travelling usually is. the adventure of changing your spot, of flying the friendly skies. something like that, something of that kind. She bought a can of tuna, a banana, a pear. Making sure to eat exactly the same each and every day, that is how you lose weight, apparently apparently. 508. Word after word after word after word. 509. At this rate, ah, whatever. A pep talk from somebody named holly mcghee, author ponders, she is not really into pep talks. We are more into providing random pep talks here ourselves, you can do it you can do it, rarara. Of course we can do it, nothing to it, nothing to it. 510. Time to have lunch, for now and for now. 511. On the telly, will and grace. It is funny. 512. 46 393. 513.
46 396. 514. Daytime television marching the words forward, a very annoying background music. More like foreground music. Another episode of will and grace. 46 421 words, all written against the ubiquitous laugh track serenade out of the idiot box. 515. Words written today: 494. Gotta drive this up to one thousand and something. ramble as much as you can, as longwinded as you possibly can. grace is eating a chocolate donut that she pierced with a pen. a donut lollipop. She swirls it around. Apparently she surrenders to the gloom. Sweets are a stand-in, an indication for a depressed mood. Kind of weird, what does sugar and grease have to do with mood? It is just something that tastes good. Good-tasting fuel. Noerh america has such a weird and distorted relationship with food, it is all about what is sinful and what is not. eating as crime, that is what makes for the obesity crisis. So it seems ah so it seems. Now it is about the irs. On will and grace. Author here is not quite following the story, it is kind of tough to follow the sitcom while pushing down letters. 46 589, write on and write on and write on and write on. 516. Author here lost some of her so amazing words just by the fact that the machine broke down for no apparent reason. That is how the greatest words in history get lost, by a computer that shuts down. and they must be amazing, mainly because author does not even remember them.
everything lost becomes extra-special, by default. She remembers that she had some great insights, epiphanies, the like and the like. not that we remember anything here, only the feel that it were great insights. Something about will and grace, that is what happens when you watch will and grace. Anyhoo, we are still typing still typing this up. 517. Now a movie called ALL SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS. Not exactly something that will propel a novel forward. two women in blond, one pink, one beige-brown-orange leather jackety. 518. 46 743. 519. 46 747. Now she remembers her discussion of fat and grease and weightloss problems and the attitudes in north america. apparently that part did not vanish in cyber space, it is still there in the text. It was something that followed out of that that is lost. The next thought, the association out of thinking about weight. not that we remember here, remember here. the novel with the lost words. ah, in the old times, if you used pen and paper, nothing got lost. Nowadays, the cloud is full of words that got lost. Unspoken stuff that had the potential to change the world. truths that were never ever found. Ah, might as well watch daytime tv. 46 863, how many more words ah how many many more words? 520. 46 876.
521. 46 879. 522. Maybe, no words got lost after all. Maybe we just want to believe that words were lost. The idea that the text stalled because of mysterious, serendipitous circumstances and not because of the incompetence of the writer here. who wants to admit to incompetence anyways. especially if you are a writer, someone that pushes words around at random. for no apparent reason, no publishing contract, no money that will pay the mortgage in exchange for silly words. 523. 46 960, pull this forward to 47 000 straight. Write on and write on and write on and write on and write on and write on, write on. 524. Elves on the telly. 525. What a cheesy movie. 526. One more word, 47 002 words. 527. Words written today: one thousand and six.
528. The last three thousand words. yup, we could write that on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, on the twenty-ninth, the thirtieth. Actually Sunday will be the first of December, the words on the website are kind of wrong. It says that you need only three more days until you finish the novel, apparently that includes today. Author is not quite sure if she is right, she is utterly confused now. That is what happens when you are cooped up and write, she would rather be anywhere else than sitting in here, typing a-typing. While Seinfeld is busy with its reruns. Ah the telly the telly. 529. Now the place where Elaine knows the big band that plays on the radio. Mr. pitt asks her to identify the next song so that he will win a place in the thanksgiving parade. 530. Words per day to finish on time: 949. Huh, huh. Anyhoo, on the telly, Seinfeld, Seinfeld. Jon voight‘s teeth marks. Oh look there is Gregory peck‘s bicycle. And Barbara mandell‘s skateboard. Hey, cowboy, where is your horse? Author ponders, this is not really a novel, if all you do is transcribe what is said on the telly. especially if you pick and choose. Now an ad for fios Verizon or visa. It is definitely confusing if you write while looking sporadically at the telly. ah, writing against the songs on the idiot box. 531. Still writing still writing. 532.
The top of page 183. 533. 47 260. 534. It is two twenty. Author here ponders, what to write about. story of all of november. She ponders, which one is the worst novel of all the two hundred thousand ones that are written all through november. There must be a hierarchy of novels, after all, not all of them can be of the same caliber. Some are better and some are worse. Luckily we will never ever know. most of them will be discarded anyways. 534. 47 339. 535. The pep talk in nanowrimo, on the website, is by a woman who is both a writer and a lit agent. Hmm, will she represent herself when looking for a publisher? 536. words to finish in time: 876. And now, how I met your mother. The turkey, the turkey. It is the slap episode. It is definitely annoying to watch a sitcom while writing this up. 537.
Still another stupid commercial. Writing ah writing. we still have to type up two thousand and fifty words, better to do it now. the whole undertaking is utterly silly anyways. maybe, next year no more crazy november, after all the whole thing is way too trying. No life for the whole month, which is even exasperated by the fact that there is no good plot. On the forums, there is this thread about adopting a plot, this one where the writers post their plots so that anyone can take them. lots of ideas for lots of convoluted plots. But, hey, who wants to take somebody else‘s story? Author here likes the story about the hapless writer, it could be paired with stories of other hapless writers. anyhoo, we have 47 537 words here, just run this forward to the whole fifty thousand. In one sitting, in one sitting straight. On the telly, still laugh tracks still laugh tracks still laugh tracks still laugh tracks. 538. an ad for target. An ad for twizzlers. An ad for a body shop. an ad for an insurance company. 539. Words per day to finish in time: 801. 540. Words per day to finish on time: 711. 541. You have to force yourself to write the last two thousand and three hundred words. maybe, if one writes them in one sitting it will automatically be excellent writing, the words will somehow feed on each other and gel into a nice enough story. Author here is not really a story writer, just as she is not a story reader, she prefers non fiction anyways. that is why novel writing is merely an
acquired taste for this writer. But one could easily argue that there is no real difference between fiction and non-fiction, there are so many grey areas between writing styles, writing categories. anyhoo, we are still typing still typing here. It is time to push this forward, to go out with a bang, the novel that will disintegrate once it reaches 50 000. 47 746, write on and write on and write on and write on. 542. A Nissan ad, an ad for a basement finishing service in boston. Apparently this is a channel based in boston. A Mitsubishi ad, and once more the same Nissan ad. now, two and a half men. 543. Words per day to finish on time: 734. This want pretty fast, huh. 544. Laugh tracks laugh tracks. It is pretty boring to write about all of this stuff, describing whatever the idiot box throws at you. 545. We are still in ―at this rate you will finish on november thirty‖ land. Seems, that they just divide the words that we need to finish this, that the idea is to finish on november thirty, no matter what. or maybe not, we could just keep on writing and explore how the website is constructed. What kind of logic is governing it. 546.
Words to finish on time: 700. On the telly, still two and a half men. Outside, real november weather, grey, extremely novemberish. The quintessential november weather if there ever was one. author here ponders about how many ways are there to describe a day of shitty autumn weather. apparently a lot. 547. On the telly, the pogo whisk. Apparently a, well, kind of whisk. Now an ad for a car. Toyota, prius, sienna. An ad for an episode of Seinfeld. One‘s brain really turns to mush in front of the telly, arguably. Now an ad for a pain medication, and back to two and a half men it is. 48 010, two thousand more words and we are out of here out of here. 548. Days remaining: three. Which means, november 28, 29 and 30. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow. 549. Now, rose coming up the balcony, first she puts a pumpkin pie on the railing, then she comes up. now, the thanksgiving dinner. This being thanksgiving in the real world, there sure are a lot of thanksgiving shows on the telly. so far, one seinfeld, one two and a half men, one king of queens and one how I met your mother episode, all of them on thanksgiving dinner. And author here watches all of them while typing a-typing. 550. 48 122.
551. Words per day to finish on time: 626. It is really about dividing the remaining word count into three parts, last year it seems that the website was structured differently. Most of this novel is about the f. website anyways. some novel ah some novel. the novel of 2013. And still writing ah still writing. part of the A seems to disintegrate, same is true for the T and for the E and the R. not a good keyboard on this laptop. Not and not. 552. Words per day: 597. 553. Still writing still writing. 48 220. On the telly, an ad for fios, an internet provider. Now an ad for a seattle radio station. band in seattle. An ad for target. And back to king of queens. 554. 48 255. 555. 48 257. 556. Still writing still writing. against the website, this is not how literature is penned. Well, maybe it is, after all, even in ancient times you had to do your inscripts, your signs onto some kind of
surface, the size of the sheet of rock would determine how many words you can put thereon. It is all about efficiency of the sentences. author ponders, her philosophical waxing is kind of off, so it seems so it seems. She has more words here, but that is all, she is not that good at describing her thoughts and her ideas. The ones that are kind of half-baked. On the telly an ad for Seinfeld. 557. Still another episode of king of queens. Author has seen it before, many times. 48 307. Marching this forward, ever so slightly. 558. It is the episode about the wig, the one where carrie cuts her hair so that a wig can be made out of it. for three thousand bucks. 559. 48 424, only one thousand and five hundred or so and then the nightmare is over. The long long ah so long agony of national novel writingish month. one novel of two hundred thousand, that is not worth reading. Author here is definitely not that happy with this her text, she has done other ones, better ones. that happened in different places, did not stay in one city. thus becoming more interesting, automatically. After all, that is what words are for, to transport you to places that you will never ever go to. words give you wings or something. there was this beautiful inscription on the wall of the elementary school in Chelsea, about how words will transport you, language will transport you, something like that. anyhoo, still typing and typing, while the dishes are waiting patiently to be washed, while we are still typing and typing here. 560.
48 580. Page 188 is finished, too. 561. At this rate you will finish on november 29. So, the rate does go down, huh, who would have thought. Author‘s whole theory about how the website works was totally wrong. 562. Motion all of these words forward, motion the text forward. better to finish this up, then you have never to do this again. well, actually not until next november. Author here steals the words from the sitcom, they fit in perfect with her text here. and now an ad for a diamond store. An ad for a body lotion. An ad for another tv-show. 563. An ad for sleep country, a commercial for chevy. Chevy equinox. An ad for a mall, kitsap mall. Wherever that is. seattle maybe. 563. 48 703. Apparently the site will say at this rate ―you will finish on november twenty-eight‖ the minute that she reaches fifty thousand. Makes sense, huh. thus type on and write on. in order to finish this up, once and for all. make up stuff, anyword will do. 48 753. Words remaining: 1275. Ah, what to write about, one thousand words of intelligent stuffi-muffi. Or any stuffi-muffi, for that matter. Pretty insane, to do all of this writing. the only thing that becomes clear here is that we
have staying power. That we can string some sentences together, some of them even making sense. could her prof. have been wrong, the one that told her that she should pursue writing instead of visual arts. Apparently, visual arts is where it is at for author here, after all they gave her a piece of paper in the end. and a piece of paper can never be wrong, so it seems ah seems. Sensodyne tooth paste. 164. A car commercial. For a show room in Washington state, off Kirkland. Another car commercial, another auto mall, somewhere in renton. Now, modern family and turkey. It is turkey galore on the telly. what will happen to all those turkeys or are they all props? 165. 48 914. 166. Still some more words still some more words. 48 924, ah, so near so near to the end. a short one thousand-word-long-essay, after that life will be back to normal. 167. 48 948. 168. Thanksgiving on ―modern family‖, it shows the different families, unluckily author here does not know the names of the persons that well. so we cannot really describe the show in detail. Anyhoo,
back to commercials it is it is. a bank, a mascara, a fast food joint. Now, santa. 48 999, yay, only one thousand and one thousand. Well, only one thousand once. 169. An ad for telus. An ad for tim hortons. Thanks, mommie. 170. Author here ponders, how come the chapter is suddenly back down to one hundred and something. ah, one glitch after the next. It is kind of entertaining how this never seems to work out. she ponders, victor hugo must have had more fun penning les miserables than the readers. ah, delusion of grandeur, a tad and a tad. 171. 49 086. 172. 49 088. 173. Sometimes the flecks are part of the art work, so you can stick to this being word chunk number one seven three. 174, 49 115.
One month of writing, and now an ad for Maybelline new york. An ad for a grocery store. Or maybe it was just for bagels and cream cheese 175. A car commercial. 176. 49 149. 49 151. An ad for save on foods. An ad for lotto max. the jackpot is 50 million. And now an ad for tim hortons. 177. Now they all fight on thanksgiving on the telly. it is the holidays, so that is what happens. 49 197. 178. For some reason the website says that we only need three hundred words to finish this up in time. which is definitely wrong, we need about eight hundred. Maybe she inserted the wrong data, could be, ah, could be. 179. Still writing still writing. another episode of MODERN FAMILY. 49 249, 49 251.
180. Anyhoo, still writing still writing. gotta finish this up. 49 261. 181. An ad for a beer. An ad for chocolate. 182. Mc rib. L‘oreal. 183. An ad for a furniture store. 184. Once more, big bang theory. The one where Sheldon is worried that Stephanie and lennard will not get along so he tries to help. which kind of backfires. And we have laugh tracks and laugh tracks. Sheldon inserts himself into all of their dates. Anyhoo, we still do the rest of the writing. time to finish this. in time in time. 185. 49 348 words. Words remaining: 615. For some reason it says that we do need about two hundred words to finish the text up. pretty weird, but, hey, it seems that all websites have glitches after all.
186. Still writing still writing. while the laugh tracks are happening while the commercials are happening. 187. Word after word, letter after letter. an ad for swiffer wet jet, an ad for mc rib, it is back, yay. an ad for lotto max, an ad for tide cold water. an ad for canadian tire. 49 439, swirl this forward ah forward. an ad for the tv station that the ad is on. huh, pretty weird now, is it not? an ad for a movie, tim hortons. And back to penny penny penny. This is banana bread. It is funny, thus laugh tracks. Sheldon what do you want? 188. 49 493. Penny is making fun of Sheldon. Now, Sheldon, wolowitz and raj at the lunch table, in the cafeteria. 49 512. And still writing still writing. the novel will just stop at fifty thousand, that is all we need here. sitting and writing is definitely not good for the body. her eyes are starting to swim. 189. 49 550. 190. Words per day to finish on time, apparently 150. Then again, we need 350 to finish. The website definitely is marching to its own drummer.
191. Ah, you gotta have stitches. Lennard vomits into the sink. Now, a hospital. Obviously, one should watch a show, not read about it. and a novel does not work like this either. 192. Four hundred or so words. finishing this up on november twenty-eight, hope fully. Twenty-eight pacific time. 193. an ad for nicorette, an ad for Duracell. 194. 49 639. 195. Now an ad for parks and recreation. 196. 49 649. 197. 49 653. 198. 49 655.
199. 49 659. 200. Still some more words still some more words still some more words still some more words still some more words. 201. 49 683. 202. And now, community, a tv show about a study group at a community college. 49 699. Now it is about vice president biden coming to Greendale, which is the name of the community college. there is just so very short time left to elect a student president, because as it seems Greendale does not have a student president. So they will elect one in seven hours, they need a president ready for the visit of the veep. 203. 49 763. And we write and we write here. fast and fast. ah, the homestretch. 49 778, 49 781. The dean on the show has an uncle sam outfit on, which looks definitely strange on him, especially because it is a girl outfit. It belongs to his sister, then again he does not seem to have a sister. An ad for vaporub, one for pantene. An ad for a teeth whitener, an ad for kfc. 49 839, write on and write on and write on and write on. once more, the ad for parks and recreation, though it seems to be a different ad now. 49 869, 49 870, one hundred thirty words and we are outta here, outta here.
the last sentences in the novel, they should be slightly on the eloquent side, usually those are the ones that are read what with the first sentences. who cares about the middle part of a book. now, the Greendale student election debates. 49 926, march this forward, march this forward. some more letters, some more commas. 49 940, sixty words is all that we need here. it is nine fortyfive in the nite on november twenty-eight. Words to finish are fourteen, words remaining are forty-one, all these numbers do not add up, the word count on the little blue icon at the bottom of the page are 49 991, we need some more words, write on and write on, ah, the finish line, 50 005 it is it is it is it is it is.
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