The year is not yet out, but I’ve surpassed my goal of reading twenty books in 2015 with the grand total of twenty-seven! (I haven’t included them all on GoodReads.)
Here are most of them:
How goes YOUR reading in ’15?
So, I took a break from writing yesterday, as I usually do on Sundays. BUT I did some plotting. And I did some more plotting today. And I am so excited I can’t even…I think that’s why I accidentally wrote two NaNoWriMo posts and, er, posted them. Oops. Forgive me? Please?
Here’s a picture of a blue crab to make up for it:
But now I need some motivation to finish NaNoWriMo. I’ve done it three or so times (not including Camp NaNoWriMo), but have never quite made it to the required 50,000 words before December 1st. SO. If I…fall short this year…there needs to be consequences. Fun consequences, because that’s how I roll.
What should happen, should I fail to write 50k next month? These are your options:
A) I’ll do an audio reading of the first page of my middle grade project “How NOT to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse”
B) I’ll read the song of your choosing in either an awful Irish, French, Cockney, English, or Russian accent.
C) A free e-copy of In a Pickle to one random commenter
And now I’ve written yet another post about NaNoWriMo.
Something tells me^ you’ll live
NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), as I believe I’ve mentioned, quickly approacheth. That means late hours, lots of caffeine, a sense of panic and dread, lack of sleep, madness…Wait, panic and dread? Really?
Here are some ways to overcome your fear of writing 50,000 words in 30 days:
Not interested in writing a novel? Not interested in writing PERIOD? Hmm. That is a foreign concept to me. Data not computing…malfunctioning…Bzzt..brrssttt…ARGH!
You walk into a bar. But it’s not any old bar. It’s a karaoke bar. But it’s not any old karaoke bar. It’s a Par-a-do-ke Bar! What will you sing? Here is an option (can you guess the original?):
Sweet dreams are made of tea
Oolong, instant, Dar-Jee-Ling
Sencha, Grey (Earl), and the Ceylon tea
Everybody’s looking for Assam.
Karaoke not your sing (get it? Sing for SCENE? AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHA!) Roll up to the bar and get a drink. Only they don’t have any. Instead, they serve desserts. But not any old desserts. GEEKY desserts. (Points you if you can guess the references.)
But you’re watching your weight, so you skip the desserts, and ask where the bathroom is. You see this and leave: CLICK BAIT
This random Monday post was brought to you by late Sunday night desperation. Thank you.
Keep your pen on the page,
Anyone else doing National Novel Writing Month this year? If so (even if NOT) here is a must-have and must-do list for you:
My book this year will be YA, a category I’ve never done for NaNoWriMo. The Maze Runner meets The Missing meets The 100. That’s the idea, anyway. So, during November, my fantasy novel will be put on hold. Bring forth the dystopian young adult! I’m ready >:)
PROBLEM The Internet: the wonderful tool of procrastinators everywhere.
SOLUTION Writer’s Block, the free word processor that blocks you out of everything else (Internet, your wallpaper/icons, everything) until you reach your word quota…or the time limit you set for yourself.
(And now I really feel like an ad man–er, woman.)
EAR CANDY This song: Square Circles
EYE CANDY This painting: (warning: girl wearing very thin shift. You can see certain things. Since I’m a gal, it doesn’t bother me. Just a heads up.)
QUOTE “Sometimes when you’re in a dark place you think you’ve been buried there, but actually you’ve been planted.” – Christine Caine
QUICK READ FOR WRITERS Marketing advice for indies (but I think it could work for small press authors as well): How I sold 978 Fiction Ebooks Per Day in 2014
The moon was full and pink
She’d had too much to drink
They say the moon ’tis made of cheese
Listen close: it’s made of these:
Promises you’ll never keep
Scars that run too long, too deep
The witch’s laugh, her sprightly cackle
A roving spade, a wormy apple
The rotting stench of rancid pears
Think I’m done? I’m almost there!
The moon is round, the moon is full
Think too hard, you’re back in school
The moon was full, the moon was red
The stars above? Long since…dead
I wish I might, I wish I may
Always have the final say
But pinkish moons that’re full are silly
Don’t believe me? Ask my cousin Billy
And now you may have come to think:
‘Twas Beth alone who had the drink.