The NaNoWriMo post of sadness and despair
So, hello, yes, it's apparently that magical time of year known as National Novel Writing Month. It's all good times and I highly recommend it to anyone who's crazy enough to think that writing a novel in a month sounds like fun.
But previously mentioned "good times?" It's a bit low on sanity and a bit high on desperation. I know I'm not making it sound very appealing, but it is, oddly enough, one of my favorite times of year.
All of that said, I now wish to use you, fellow crazy people on the internet, as a resource. Give me random things to work into my ridiculous novel in progress. I have already had a scene featuring begonias, which was the only weird, random thing that's come to mind to work in so far.
Included below, for your entertainment and/or lulzing pleasure, is my begonia scene. (P.s. please don't laugh at me. It's a first draft effort in desperate need of polish, I know this already.)
Penelope had finished inspecting the contents of the kitchen and moved on to the rest of the flat. She peered out each of the living room windows in turn. “I think we need a begonia.”
Cal eyed her sister with a keen look that attempted to express the depths of her disinterest in the mundanity of these silly human concepts. She held on to it for a few moments in silence, completely unnoticed by Pen, before curiosity got the better of her. “What is a begonia?”
“It’s a sort of plant. With colorful flowers.” Pen picked up and examined the clock sitting on the mantle, holding it to her ear curiously.
Calliope waited for her to continue and connect this line of thought to… well… any other. When it became clear that no such thing was likely to occur, she prodded further. “And why do we need a begonia?”
“Well it’s sort of… a houseplant. Humans keep the things around indoors, in ceramic pots.” By now, Pen had moved on to a bookcase behind the couch, flipping through each book curiously before replacing it on the shelf.
“And why do we need one?”
“Well…” Pen paused and turned to her sister, an open book in-hand and forgotten. “I never could understand why they’d keep live plants indoors. If they wanted color, why not simply cut flowers? It seems… unnatural for a plant to live away from the sun. But we’re here, living like humans, so we should have a begonia of our own.”
Calliope simply stared at her sister. This was going to be a terribly long month.
“And a fish!” Pen turned to replace the book, moving on to the next. “Do you know they keep fish in tiny glass jars? Fish made of gold! We should have a golden fish of our own!”
“How could a fish made of gold even swim?”
“We shall have to get one to find out.” Pen said decisively, seeming rather to have warmed to the idea of living amongst humans.
But previously mentioned "good times?" It's a bit low on sanity and a bit high on desperation. I know I'm not making it sound very appealing, but it is, oddly enough, one of my favorite times of year.
All of that said, I now wish to use you, fellow crazy people on the internet, as a resource. Give me random things to work into my ridiculous novel in progress. I have already had a scene featuring begonias, which was the only weird, random thing that's come to mind to work in so far.
Included below, for your entertainment and/or lulzing pleasure, is my begonia scene. (P.s. please don't laugh at me. It's a first draft effort in desperate need of polish, I know this already.)
Penelope had finished inspecting the contents of the kitchen and moved on to the rest of the flat. She peered out each of the living room windows in turn. “I think we need a begonia.”
Cal eyed her sister with a keen look that attempted to express the depths of her disinterest in the mundanity of these silly human concepts. She held on to it for a few moments in silence, completely unnoticed by Pen, before curiosity got the better of her. “What is a begonia?”
“It’s a sort of plant. With colorful flowers.” Pen picked up and examined the clock sitting on the mantle, holding it to her ear curiously.
Calliope waited for her to continue and connect this line of thought to… well… any other. When it became clear that no such thing was likely to occur, she prodded further. “And why do we need a begonia?”
“Well it’s sort of… a houseplant. Humans keep the things around indoors, in ceramic pots.” By now, Pen had moved on to a bookcase behind the couch, flipping through each book curiously before replacing it on the shelf.
“And why do we need one?”
“Well…” Pen paused and turned to her sister, an open book in-hand and forgotten. “I never could understand why they’d keep live plants indoors. If they wanted color, why not simply cut flowers? It seems… unnatural for a plant to live away from the sun. But we’re here, living like humans, so we should have a begonia of our own.”
Calliope simply stared at her sister. This was going to be a terribly long month.
“And a fish!” Pen turned to replace the book, moving on to the next. “Do you know they keep fish in tiny glass jars? Fish made of gold! We should have a golden fish of our own!”
“How could a fish made of gold even swim?”
“We shall have to get one to find out.” Pen said decisively, seeming rather to have warmed to the idea of living amongst humans.