Twelve days until NaNoWriMo. Twelve lousy days. I am the definition of panic.
Still working on my covered in red scrawl story. I have 3,000 words licked with another 4,000 to be prettied. Of course, the previous 3,000 will go through further surgery before I release it. So, no I didn't complete my edits at the weekend. I worked hard though and I have a title I somewhat like - Nowhere Hall.
As for the aformentioned NaNoWriMo, I decided this morning that the project is too big for me. It's not labelled 'mad escapade' for fun. Well, okay it was, but now it's seeming like a mad escapade in its entirety. I want to set part of it in the 1920s, I really do. And I meant to do lots of pretty 1920s research, but I haven't. I wandered around Waterstones last month and couldn't find one 1920s related book - god bless Amazon. Not that I ordered any from Amazon either. If this blog was twitter I'd be hashtagging #mefail. I'm considering changing the 1920s portion to the 1970s because, I was alive then and sort of remember it. Crap, did I just admit to that on the web. Of course, that would still require some 1970s research and I need to write how many words a day during November?
In the bath this morning - best thinking always occurs there - I decided I should go for my other novel idea instead. I have a title, characters and an idea that I think is awesome (but then I would)... Of course I have no plans worked out at all for that book, and my other, The Museum of Impossible Artefacts, does at least have 14,000 ish words of notes.
Is it December yet?