The Wrimo Report

Hey y'all, since I can't justify submitting this to the actual NaNoWriMo site, so I thought I'd put up my wrimo report  here for the edification of....  well....  ok, who am I kidding, it's for me.  I had to put it in perspective so that I can  get on with my life, and with my story.

maybe after this I'll put up the next chapter, first draft anyhow, it'll likely get completely cut and re-written before I feel it's good enough for anyone else to read.

So, the WriMo report.

I have a crazy relative, she's my mom.  Now, don't get me wrong, it's not like she rants and should be locked up.  After all, doing so would deprive so many of us of a much needed and loved crazy person in our lives.  But, see, the thing here is that she has always been not normal as defined by society.  I blame her for the voices.  The voices made me do it!  I realize that that sounds like a lame excuse, but those same voices that took root in my mind early on in formative years are still there.  And no amount of social programming appears to be able to drive them into submission.

And so, come late October life is stressing, children are teething (after both toddlers wrapping up the most recent influenza bout), and the voices in my head are starting to sound saner than I am feeling.

Time to round up the good old boys and hit the bars, ... , umm, nope, they've all grown up, moved away, and had kids of their own, that ain't gonna work.
How about ...  Nope, that's out as well,
Then from the next office a little voice starts arguing with itself,
"you don't have time!"
"But I want to...  please?"
"No, we agreed to be sensible, besides you already have three on the go and your publishers want the first two in by the end of November!"
"I don't care, I"ll just do it behind my back, see if I care.  And besides, I can't stop me anyhow."

Realizing that I had followed that entire conversation without once losing track of what was happening, I began to worry, really worry.  However, being less conservative than I should sometimes, I poked my head around the corner to ask if everything was alright.
The answer came back, as sane as you please, "Yup, just trying to talk myself into/out of NaNoWriMo this year."
"Oh, fair enough.  I'll leave you to it then."

NaNoWriMo?  Time to get Google online, ....,  Ahhhh, there it is....  ohhhhh ...  a place for those voices to burst out of my head, and if I do it right, they'll hit the page and it'll all be ok.

The rest is history as they say, late nights, early mornings, kids were sick throughout, family life was even more demanding than usual, and of course it didn't help that my wife and I were having troubles at the beginning of the month.
But ... with 3 days remaining, I hit 50,000 and didn't notice.  At about noon on the final day I uploaded the whole manuscript and verified at just over 51 thousand, with about 25k left to wrap up the book.

So yeah, it was crazy, it was demanding and draining, and nobody else understands why in creation I would undertake such a pointless task, but to me there was purpose, and the voices that refuse to behave..?  Well, at least they're mollified with being able to be heard, and from that they've agreed not to try to twist me into a lunatic.  So I guess it's a wash.

Goodnight,

Andre.