It’s November again, which means it is National Novel Writing Month. For some reason, I let my son talk me into participating this year, even though it means writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.
It is an ultra-marathon for writers.
This also means, my blog might be sporadic, since all of my mental powers will be utilized in the writing of the next Great American Novel. Or, would it be considered a Great American Novel since I live in Germany? I’m not sure. Regardless, my Chick-Lit Sellout Novel is under way.
My fluffy white dog, who, bless his heart, doesn’t know a thing about the end of daylight savings time, started whining from his kennel at 4:00 am, rather than 5:00, and thus, my ‘writing time’ was carved out of the day for me by a twelve-pound Havanese.
I’m not going to show many people my sellout book. I call it that because I do not expect it to be quality literature. It is a light read, and as such, it might have a chance of being published someday. If Hemingway were alive, he would write a sellout book too–just to get his foot in the door.
So, the challenge is on, and hopefully someday my novel will be on shelves in bookstores, though you won’t know it’s mine because I’ll have to use a nom-de-plume.