NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month discussion Options

[blockhead]

We've been starting to discuss NaNoWriMo on the coffee shop thread and it seems that it might be a good idea to give it its own thread. Wow, I haven't started a thread here in ages ... since the start of my Bloodmoon fanfic.

Essentially, from November 1st to Nov 30th one writes a novel of 50,000 words. This is about 1667 words per day (consider that November is only 30 days, not 31). Emphasis is on creation, not on editing. One must disable ones "inner editor" for a month.

Rather then me blather on longer (and perhaps get it wrong) here is the site: http://www.nanowrimo.org/ and here is the FAQ section: http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/basics

So I'm signed up on that site as lokken. Good luck everyone.

(I spent 16+ bucks for the "No Plot No Problem" book (yikes) , so I have to finish this now!)

For myself, I hope that this gives me the needed kick in the behind to write an original story.

[jack cloudy]

I can bear with the site being slow. It is damn crowded after all. What I can't bear with, is the damn lack of a search button! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! *pant, wheeze*

Blockhead, that's one of those questions I can't seem to work out perfectly. Currently, I simply have anyone who dies again be resurrected at the afterlife, just like the first time. One's body is formed after one's sense of self. This has lead to some outrageous results for the ones with a huge ego. Some things don't transfer over, like any artificial modifications, except if said modifications are integrated into the sense of self.

Take Emmy, for example. Her appearance has become part of her in her mind, so she won't regress to her pre-surgery state. On the other hand, she won't get all the internal bits, like the completely restructered skeleton, musculature and neural net. So she would look the same, but be a lot weaker, less clumsy and less hungry. (the nanobots that maintain her need a lot of calories to maintain their numbers.)


Ahem, I'm not trying to be thoughtful of anything in my story. Good and evil? Maybe yes, maybe no. Hard decisions? Probably not. Serious or over-the-top laughable? Geez, dunno. So basically, I'll see how it turns out.

For perspective, I'm using both first and third. Brian Amgin is written in third, while Emmy is written in first.(cause she's so much better at whining. Reminds me of Luper.) Some excerpts to demonstrate:

Amgin (final paragraph of chapter 1):
Two minutes later, a single figure emerged from the small building. The figure closed the buttons on his raincoat and realigned the hat on his head as he walked off into the night.
“The fool, going for a full frontal assault on someone like me. Tsk, probably watched too many spy movies. He should have brought a tank, not a gun. And calling me a youngster, just who does he think he is?” Amgin sneered and closed the door. He casually felt the bump on the inside pocket of his raincoat. The Shadow’s gun was the only thing that didn’t turn into a puddle of goo after its owner’s death. Amgin had been expecting a self-destruct mechanism and had disabled the gun’s electronics before this could occur. A side-effect was however, that it had now been reduced to dead weight. But none of that mattered. The weapon wouldn’t have accepted him anyway, not while it was still functioning. Hell, he was likely to get a poisoned needle slammed into his finger the moment he pulled the trigger. When he had time, he would repair the damage, but not now. Now, he had places to be.
“I hope that he’ll be still awake this late.”


And Emmy (first paragraph of chapter 2):
As I looked into the mirror, last night’s foul mood returned in full. I had bags under my droopy eyes the size of a planet, my hair stuck everywhere but where it was supposed to stick, my mouth was open in a constant yawn and apparently I’d misplaced my pyamas somewhere during the night. Simply put, I looked like a wreck. I felt like one as well. At least I still knew where my pants were, on my head like some sort of silly hat. Talk about displacement.
“Dang it, not again. Ugh, this so sucks big time with strawberries-and-whipped-cream-on-top-of-a-kingsized-icecream.” I moaned and glared at my reflection. Well dang it, now I was drooling as well! Just what was wrong with this world?!

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Nov 1 2007, 09:45 PM