We’re nearly a third into the month of November and, surprise surprise, I’m behind schedule with my NaNoWrimo project. It might have to do with the fact that I completely changed my story idea four days into the project. So, I started writing a book, got a thousand words in or whatever, (yes I know, that’s not very far) and then just hit a wall. I felt stuck. Instead of pushing through, toughing shit out, and just putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) I decided it would be smart to just start a completely new novel. Now I’m even further behind schedule. I’m trying not to stress. After all, I’m already into chapter two and I have a feeling things are just gonna start falling into place, plot wise and such. The only thing is, my book will be missing a lot of what I promised before. There will be no rock and roll, no drugs, and no sex. Maybe still a witch or two. Don’t worry though; I will never drop the shenanigans.
Here’s a little (unedited) bit of what I’ve got so far. Try and enjoy it, maybe?
He turned around, and, not even worrying about whether it was a masculine thought, decided girls could in fact find his butt sexy. He remembered watching Thelma & Louise with his parents getting very self-conscious when the two protagonists pointed out a young Brad Pitt’s ass-in-jeans. The only thing he was really disappointed with was his acne, which, admittedly not too bad. Still, he wished he could grow a mustache or beard with any self-confidence; they would draw attention from the few unsightly red spots on his cheeks and forehead. Whatever. That’s what bangs are for. He made a faux-model face in the bathroom and grabbed his junk, striking a stance with his legs apart, his hands acting as a fig leaf.
As Chris rinsed his face and applied some over-the-counter pimple wash he tried to imagine what he would look like in seven years. Who would he be? It was an impossible thing to picture.