You know, I am behind. I am only at 11,400 words, ish
But I realized something this morning upon reading the pep talk:I have a plot.
I have a plot and a coherent ending. I still have to get from where I am to where I am going but the plot is there
Really, not so bad, considering that this novel began literally as a cop-out. Have I explained what I'm even writing ABOUT yet?
Basically, I didn't want to have to think too hard about my characters or setting. I've noticed that when I try to come up with a vast sprawling fantasy world, or even a fantastic realism world, I spent all day thinking about the cosmology and the physics and the why and how and don't think about the who and what.
So I took one side of myself - the meek, shy, quiet side who wants
to be told what to do with my life, and I made him male. I mixed him up with a melange of traits from other meek, shy male friends of mine.
Then I took the other side of myself - spunky, well-traveled, wild eyed and wondrous. I mixed in a lot of pieces of some women I know but mostly every one of my meek, shy male friend's fantasies, the way they seem to think
I am, and threw in every romantic comedy heroine I've ever seen.
Then I went on TV tropes and saw that, as usual, they have a word for the latter sort of character
So setting and what's going on at the time? Given that I'm still dealing with this shit, I went ahead and dropped them in Chiba, Japan, basically sending them to the same study abroad program that I was at. I put them in the positions of myself and one of my few good friends on the program, though their relationship ends up rather drastically different than ours did (If you're reading this, very drastically different
, and I don't think of you in the same way at all.) A lot of the events that I've described thus far are caricatures and exaggerations of things that really did happen to me; I even mention by name a few places I've actually been.
It's a bit surreal and I worry a lot
that this is cheating. I'm writing about a self-insert doing things that I did except some more extreme things happen. The main difference is that I don't think life is going to end at all happily for this man; whilst unless there's something you all aren't telling me, my life is going in a pretty good direction (or so I'd like to think.)
I don't, after all, have a Manic Pixie Dream Boy dragging me around by the wrist and taking all my money.
Also, Manic Pixie Dream Girl is absolutely
a working title (yes, I named it after the trope!); I'm probably going to end up calling it She after the Abney Park song. Yes, I'm a dork.
I don't think I'm going to get to 50,000 words by November 30. But I have more than 11,000 words. That's something
. And if I can continue to chip away slowly but surely like I have been, I might have 40,000 words by month's end. That's not bad. When I get there, I think I'm going to ask someone to look it over and tell me if it's worth it to continue or if I should drop it now and run far, far away.
I hope though... I hope that I have something
here. It's different than anything else I've ever written - it's realism
(kinda) for once. I dunno if I'm getting any deep exploration of the human spirit here, but... well. It's more words than I've ever written about the same thing in such a short period of time (the volume of information on Shadows of the Dawn is absolutely more, but that was written over the period of what is now more than ten years
, and SotD is much less coherent than this story is thus far).
And isn't that the point? To prove to oneself that it is possible
? That the impossible is possible, reachable, touchable
, and that even if this
novel isn't all that great that you are
capable of writing this much?
Hoom. So let's see where we go. As one of my protagonists like to say, "Stop worrying about the future. Just close your eyes, jump feet first into it, and damn