National Novel Writing Month: A Writer’s Experience

10/31/12: I’ve got the whole plot laid out, and it isn’t even November! I am going to own this month. Wait. Something just came to me… MY FIRST SENTENCE! RIGHT IN MY HEAD! Do I dare type you before the month begins? Yes! I do! “A shot in the dark, a corpse in the light.” Brilliant!

Word Count: 10

11/1/12: Morning run: check! Morning coffee: check! Morning bagel: check! Another bagel, with peanut butter instead of cream cheese: check. Words: Hmm. Who comes up with words, you know, goodly? Hemingway? Kafka? James Patterson? He writes a lot of bestsellers about people who shoot other people. What would he do for a second sentence? I’ll read one of those Alex Cross books and find out.

Word Count: 10

11/8/12: Well, that’s every Alex Cross book! Good thing I read those and learned how books work; I was making a lot of mistakes! And now, it’s writing time. On the scene: Fierce Tiger Lee, a 6’4, half-Chinese, half-Cherokee bare-knuckle boxer turned private eye. “A pretty girl,” he remarks, to the forensic examiner. “Too bad her floral shampoo doesn’t cover the death smell.” He’s funny, too. He does standup in local clubs. Yeah.

Word Count: 2345

11/12/12: Detective Lee grabbed the assassin’s arm and threw her across the bed. “You’re not the first beautiful killer who thought she could get the best of F. T. Lee!”

                The assassin gasped. “There have been other women? What happened to them?”

                Lee cocked his pistol. “Two dead. One missing. One of them is the mother of my son. Felix Running Bear Lee-Sharapova. Six years old and already a black belt.” He paused. “I think she’s raising him to kill me.”

                Silence fell over the room and stayed awhile, like a clumsy man falling down an escalator. Finally, the assassin tossed her knife aside. “Until he grows up, Mr. Lee,” she whispered, unzipping her leather jumpsuit, “you’re safe in my arms.”

Word Count: 19367

11/13/12: “you’re safe in my arms.” And then what? I’d better research some erotica if I want to write a sex scene that isn’t completely embarrassing. Help me out here, Google…

Word Count: 19367

11/25/12: …where am I? And why is everything so sticky? Oh, I spilled maple syrup. Why was I putting maple syrup on a bagel? And what month is it? Still November. Wasn’t there something I was going to do in November? THE NOVEL! Where did I leave off? I was stuck on… oh. Right. I remember writing something down for that part, after I finished all the porn on the Internet—

“Until he grows up, Mr. Lee,” she whispered, unzipping her leather jumpsuit, “you’re safe in my arms.”

                They had sex.

Not bad! That’s enough writing for today.

Word Count: 19370

11/26/12: Enough messing around! Only 30,000 words left, and I’m going to get them if it kills me. My roommate says Adderall helps him concentrate when he needs to write a paper quickly. Does he have any left? He does!

Word Count: 19370