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So far today I've managed around 2500 words on my Nanowrimo. This is good, because I want to get as much done this week as I can, and I also wrote a few hundred words of my Robin Hood essay and planned out a few things.
The plans were all to do with wordcounts, though, which was interesting - I've never really considered a story in such purely mechanistic terms before, but now I'm conscious of how many words I've spent on each thing.
I already know things that I'm going to cut from this draft of Passion - a couple of the current scenes are pretty much just exercises in character-building because I couldn't particularly think of anything plot-relevant to write. But that's the point of Nanowrimo, right? Just to write and write and write with wordy abandon, and not worry about quality.
I am worrying about quality, of course, but I'm making notes on what I'm going to do later rather than thinking about what I need to do now, which is probably the most useful thing I've got out of Nanowrimo so far. To just get it out, even if I don't particularly like it, even if I think it's useless, is an achievement in itself. Dough to be shaped rather than flour left on the shelf.
Anyway, I'm quite tired, and I haven't got particularly much more to say than a ramble about Nanowrimo. Today's been pretty quiet. Marc came over and cooked us an utterly amazing meal: prawn tangiers (prawns, tomatoes, spinach and onions cooked with lemon juice and cumin), with butternut squash roasted with thyme, and cous cous. It was so delicious that I nearly cried. And Lisa made amazing muffin-sized chocolatey things that were also amazing. I have had such an amazing culinary week. I'm jealous of two-hours-ago self who was just starting that meal, om nom nom.
But now I am going to debate with myself whether to do the washing-up now or in the morning, and possibly curl up with a book. Or maybe Stronghold 2.
The plans were all to do with wordcounts, though, which was interesting - I've never really considered a story in such purely mechanistic terms before, but now I'm conscious of how many words I've spent on each thing.
I already know things that I'm going to cut from this draft of Passion - a couple of the current scenes are pretty much just exercises in character-building because I couldn't particularly think of anything plot-relevant to write. But that's the point of Nanowrimo, right? Just to write and write and write with wordy abandon, and not worry about quality.
I am worrying about quality, of course, but I'm making notes on what I'm going to do later rather than thinking about what I need to do now, which is probably the most useful thing I've got out of Nanowrimo so far. To just get it out, even if I don't particularly like it, even if I think it's useless, is an achievement in itself. Dough to be shaped rather than flour left on the shelf.
Anyway, I'm quite tired, and I haven't got particularly much more to say than a ramble about Nanowrimo. Today's been pretty quiet. Marc came over and cooked us an utterly amazing meal: prawn tangiers (prawns, tomatoes, spinach and onions cooked with lemon juice and cumin), with butternut squash roasted with thyme, and cous cous. It was so delicious that I nearly cried. And Lisa made amazing muffin-sized chocolatey things that were also amazing. I have had such an amazing culinary week. I'm jealous of two-hours-ago self who was just starting that meal, om nom nom.
But now I am going to debate with myself whether to do the washing-up now or in the morning, and possibly curl up with a book. Or maybe Stronghold 2.
