When the Tenses Start to Blend...

... you know you should stop writing your Nanowrimo novel and clean the fluff out of your brain. Like today... which was a good day, in that I somehow managed to write over 10 000 words of utter crap. I'm thinking of it as my 'buffer zone' for when exam study becomes a pressing necessity rather than a faraway possibility.

But 10 000 words in I still haven't decided whether I'm writing in first person or third person, or even which tense I'm currently using. So I go from Mia's POV to narrating what she does, and then I realise it's time to stop.

For some reason, I cannot decide whether I want to write in first or third person. Perhaps I want to keep my options open. Perhaps I'm just going mental. I even made my characters diss Tim Winton, a WA author I admire quite a lot. But I knew I'd lost control of my story when my character went on a two-page rant chewing up my favourite books of all time, namely Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Pride and Prejudice. And that was when I realised... there is no way I can make Mia Sargent sound like she isn't a whiny little brat.

...Also, judging from my taste in books, I'm also a walking cliché. But then perhaps that shouldn't come as a surprise. XD

Fear the Blank Page: It's Only Too True

November the first is here. Oh, my. And because I'm on study break and technically studying for Psychology, what I'm actually doing is staring at the computer screen too terrified to open a blank document and type the title of my novel at the top of the page. Numerous questions come to my mind. Does the title count as three notches in my 50 000 words? Is it immoral to count 'Chapter One' as two words? And just how much Earl Grey tea is it possible for one teenage girl to drink before exploding?

As anxious as I am to answer these questions and more, what is most confusing for me at this point is just why I cannot bring myself to open Word and get cracking with something I've been waiting to do since the beginning of the year, or even November last year. What is it? Cold feet? Jitters? A sudden and inexplicable drop in self-esteem? Or perhaps it's the fact that I want to shoot myself in the foot for spending hours reading Twilight as research for my novel, time possibly better spent learning to use a loom, teaching the principles of Zen Buddhism to iguanas, or planning an elaborately staged game of Simon Says in front of the town hall. Kudos to the people who are already past the 4000 word mark only a few hours into November. I salute you, and wish I had your resolve.