Juggling Chainsaws!

Word Count

FIRST DRAFT DONE! It clocked in at a measly 56,491 words. That would make for a thin novel and I want my money’s worth out of this. So the second draft will be all about BLOAT!

And to all the people who said I couldn’t do it, I say: where were you? No one said I couldn’t do it at all.

Writing Advice: Monogamy? Feh!

Two things I want to address: being behind on your word count, and getting another idea during the writing process.

And the answer to both is YES!

Perhaps I should explain.

NanoWriMo is coming to an end. Suppose you didn’t make the word count this year. I would like to sound out a vehement SO WHAT?! You’re the only person who can tell your story the way you want it to go. So tell it already! You don’t need a webpage to hold a gun to your head. It helps lazy people like me, but you’re better than scum like that!

Second of all, about getting new ideas in the middle of writing something else: do it! Write that down too! I have two more novels scratched out on the “possibility board”. One of the ideas remained nebulous, and the other one solidified only a couple of days ago.

Keep on your project and see it to fruition, but there’s nothing wrong with having a couple of other projects waiting in the wings. You’re not married to a single idea. It’s not like you’re having an affair with another narrative.

Play the field! You’re a free agent! Shake that money maker and make it rain! You’re a beautiful flower on that stage! You have to get the money and get out! You’re a maniac! A MANIAC on the floor! And you’re dancing like you’ve never danced before!

Somehow, this turned into advice for strippers. I personally feel PROFOUNDLY sorry for strippers. Not because there is anything wrong with stripping. I feel sorry for them because they have to dance in high heels for hours. That must be excruciating!

I have friends who wear high heels, some of whom are women. When they complain about wearing high heels at a desk job, I’m all like, “oh yeah? Try wearing high heels for eight hours while dancing to Def Leppard in a cigarette smoke-filled room and wearing wearing naught but pasties and a thong. It takes REAL stamina to do that.”

It should be noted that I never actually say that out loud. I do have a survival instinct, although it has been a little shoddy lately.

It should also be noted that I am not being nice to strippers for any prurient reasons. I don’t currently know any strippers, and the ones I did know were all exhausted and had disgusting blisters on their ankles. Ew!