The Short of the Long

The year is half over, more or less.  I suppose once my area hits noon, then it will be half-way to the end.  Can’t say it’s been a horrible year, but I can’t say I’ve been clicking my heels at how awesomely incredible it’s been, either.  And, no, I don’t believe it’s because there’s a thirteen in the sucker:  the last few years have been shitty, so that argument, as they kids say these days, is invalid.

Something I recently did may have been noticed by a few people.  If you were following along, you might have noticed that every blog post for the month of June was the title of a song.  Not only that, but each week pretty much fed from the discography of a particular artist.  Why did I do that?  Why not?  It was not only fun, but it was also difficult to find titles that sort of fit with what I was writing, while also not giving away the whole show as to what I was doing.  Oh, sure:  there were a couple that completely tipped my hand, but since no one said anything like, “Hey, did you just use the title of a song?” I have to assume no one caught on–or no one was noticing.  Maybe I’ll do I again later in the year.  Maybe I’ll pick the title of porn movies.  That will probably get everyone’s attention.

Camp NaNo July is on, though the website isn’t.  It’s been Crash Palace for the last day, probably due to the influx of people trying to sign up at the last moment.  I mean, it’s not as if people were aware this was coming, but hey, what do I know?  Anyway, the site is off meditating, but that doesn’t mean you can’t write . . .

Which I’ve done.  I started in on my story at midnight, and wrote for the length of time it took for The Duke Suite to finish.  That’s twenty-seven minutes and forty-five seconds if you’re keeping track, and when the last notes faded into the evening, I’d written six hundred and ninety words.  That’s not bad, considering I was stumbling over things here and there.

This morning I got right back into it about six-thirty, and after editing a few things that read clumsy, I started adding to the chapter.  By the time I finished forty-five minutes later, I’d bumped the chapter to one thousand, one hundred and seventeen words.  As I’d estimated this story at twenty-five thousand words, my daily count is only eight hundred and six words a day.  I’m already at 138.51% of my count for the day, and I’ll add more to the chapter–if not finish it–before I go to bed tonight.

What have I learned about Camp so far?  One, I got right back into my writing with little hesitation.  Two, I’m watching what I’m writing far more closer, and I don’t hesitate to edit as I go along–something I’ve done for a while, but I’m getting far pickier about it these days.

Then there’s three:  I know this novella is going to end up going beyond twenty-five thousand words.  I thought I’d be close to the end of this chapter at a thousand words, but no, that’s not happening.  I believe I’ll wrap up the first chapter around two thousand words, but as for the next?  Probably shorter.  But the one after that?

Oi, I have no idea.  Maybe I should just shut up and write . . .