Alright then.
OK, Jymi, you've done it. I think I've decided to maybe give NaNoWriMo a shot. I mean, it's free and the only constraints are the limits of my imagination...And whatever talents I possess as a writer. If any, lol.
I'd already decided that if I was to write something substantial, I'd want two of my favourite entries (my own, of course) from
all_unwritten, my favourite writing community. They are under the cut...It's all just drabbles so far, I have no real main character, no final destination...I was thinking perhaps a road-trip story...I don't know.
So there you go. The month of November is to be filled with trashy prose, hopefully winding up as a 50,000 word literary gem. Although, it's not going to be much of a gem, considering the genre is mainstream ficiton. If it were ever to be published, I can guarentee you that you'd be able to pick up this novel(la) at an airport. Geez.
I don't know how well it will go and I don't know if I will get there or finish it or shoot myself in the face, but we'll see. Nothing really to lost. Except my mind.
I'd already decided that if I was to write something substantial, I'd want two of my favourite entries (my own, of course) from
all_unwritten, my favourite writing community. They are under the cut...It's all just drabbles so far, I have no real main character, no final destination...I was thinking perhaps a road-trip story...I don't know.Sitting there at my formica kitchen table, watching the sunlight flow in through the window and falling on my out-of-date fruit bowl...those rot-kissed bananas never looked so unappealing...
i flip open the newspaper and pore over the job section. nothing for me here...i may as well start crying into my cereal. it's hard to fully accept that i'm not wanted within the workforce, or, as i'm beginning to learn, anywhere else.
i flip open the newspaper and pore over the job section. nothing for me here...i may as well start crying into my cereal. it's hard to fully accept that i'm not wanted within the workforce, or, as i'm beginning to learn, anywhere else.
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And I walked, as I'd been doing for what seemed like an eternity. Down and up the dusty road, parching my throat and burning my skin. The heat was almost unbearable, but I walked none the less.
The dust clung to my jeans, turning them the same rusty colour as my broken down truck. The soles of my boots provided very little protection from the white hot ground. My shirt clung to my back and I'd have dearly loved to take it off, but I'd worked it into my head that it was the only thing preventing me from bursting into flames...
So there you go. The month of November is to be filled with trashy prose, hopefully winding up as a 50,000 word literary gem. Although, it's not going to be much of a gem, considering the genre is mainstream ficiton. If it were ever to be published, I can guarentee you that you'd be able to pick up this novel(la) at an airport. Geez.
I don't know how well it will go and I don't know if I will get there or finish it or shoot myself in the face, but we'll see. Nothing really to lost. Except my mind.