Saturday, November 28, 2009

The Case of the Mysterious Dog

The Case of the Mysterious Dog

That is the working title of my NaNoWriMo novel which, friends and neighbors (more like "cousins and Daddy"), is FINISHED as of last night! As you might remember, 50,000 words are required to "win" NaNoWriMo. My novel is 50,546 words! So I EXTRA won! And won a few days early, too! You have until Nov. 30 to finish.

It was so exciting when I downloaded my file and instead of a new number, a big orange "YOU WON!" sign with fireworks all around it came up. (I looked my number up later.) After last year's crash and burn plus a lifetime's worth of not thinking I was a "fiction person," being a NaNoWriMo winner is bit of a life-changing experience. I had such a good time writing the novel, even when I had to force myself to do it (which was often in the last week or so).

My father, who is always supportive of everything I do and the reason I write poetry in the first place, has always ended our writing conversations with "When are you going to write your novel?" And I always get mad and say snide, sarcastic things like, "I guess you didn't mean it when you taught me to love poetry" or "Well, you could have a novel or a dissertation, and you got a dissertation. You must be so disappointed." Honestly, I can never have children because I can never be as patient or genuinely radiate unconditional love like my father. He laughs at these statements. Mostly likely because, maddeningly, I'm sure he has realized since before I learned to read that I could write a novel if I wanted to and that I'd like it. Isn't it annoying to grow up and find out your parents still know what's best for you?

Anyway, I'm putting it here on the internet, in front of everyone, and as you know, everything you read on the internet is true: My father was right. I was wrong. He knew best. I knew nothing.

Now, if I can only remember that for next time...

Anyway, I have a lot to say about what it was like writing even a month-long, comparatively short, pop fiction-style, contest novel, but I'm running out of words for the day. I want to take a shower and go out to where you can see the big part of Lake Ontario. (We live on Black River Bay, which is big, but not huge.) Or go shopping for an Advent wreath. Or eat leftovers and read Dick Francis. When Joseph wakes up, it will be time to do house-fixing stuff, so I have to make the morning good!

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