I failed at getting my word quota every day. You wanna see a chart? I can show you one, courtesy of the NaNoWriMo website.
|That's me, failing. Woooooo~|
It's evolved like a colony of rabbits, you know. A CRAZY amount of new plot twists have popped up from seemingly nowhere, and I'm only about a third of the way though 25,500 words in. It's good I have more time because I'm going to have to really think to make sure I can sort this out without holes.
A friend of mine asked me how my noveling was going on Tuesday. I told him simply that I had failed, but that was okay with me.
"Well, how many words did you get?" he asked.
"I got 25K." I said. "I stopped at about half of what I should have had by the end."
His eyes went wide. "Wait, how many pages is that, doublespaced?"
"Well, it's about 50 now, but it's not doublespaced and I use 11 point font because I like it more. If I had finished and doublespaced it would have been about 200 pages."
He was bewildered. "Wow. I could never do that. I would . . . I would die."
It kind of amused me, not because I don't think he could do it (you can do rather a lot more than you think you can, if you put your mind to it) but because there are a lot of things that I can't do. It's just always struck me as amusing when people are so overwhelmed when you do something you love. "I could never do that," they say. "Oh yeah?" I want to reply. "Well I can't ride a horse. I can't straighten my hair as nicely every single morning. I can't be pretend to like people all of the time. Why are we comparing ourselves again?"
So instead of this being an "AUGH I FAILED NANOWRIMO" post, it'll be a post about ten things that I can't do. (I'm not really feeling like AUGH anyway. I'm feeling more like "YAY I have more months to write this now and I don't have to rush~!" but anyway.)
1. Christina can't dissect anything. But flowers. Flowers were okay. But eyeballs? Livers? Hearts? Fetal pigs? Why, hello, knees. Meet my head. You'll be spending some great quality time together because Christina must maintain consciousness while her classmates poke around the important parts of an unfortunate cow that used to skip through fields of flowers and daydream about the next time she would see dandelions only to be slaughtered so high school students can pop her eyes and bore their initials into her heart. And really, why is this necessary?
2. Christina can't chug. Anything. Attempts result in pain and tears.
3. Christina can't refrain from screaming when someone pokes her in the side. Or randomly appears at her shoulder. Or taps her shoulder. Or says her name when she's not expecting it. Or really anything. She's got no nerves.
4. Christina can't do math. What now, Algebra teacher~ But seriously. Christina and math-- they're mortal enemies. If an imaginary number is imaginary, why does it exist? Why can't I add and then multiply? Why are the variables X and Y and not J and L? Why does .99999 forever really equal 1 and yet I can't say there's no middle of the week because I can't round it? Why is .6 the right answer and .54679 *not*? What the heck is a significant figure, because it is NOT significant to any aspect of my life? Aren't more digits more accurate? And where do I stop rounding?
5. Christina can't go more than a few days without a piece of gum. She's a certified addict.
6. Christina can't sing while she has a cold.
7. Christina can't do anything when she has a cold. (This is only a slight exaggeration.)
8. Christina can't stop herself from replying in third person when someone uses her name. She also still can't figure out why they look at her strangely until she realizes what she's done. She also can't comprehend why people see this as strange. You already used her name. Aren't you setting the standard so she should use her name too?
9. Christina can't paint her right hand's fingernails with her left hand.
10. Christina can't eat ice cream until next July. You see, in Manitou Springs, CO, there is a custard company that has the best custard on the planet. She and Onii-chan went every day and got custard from the owner, a very sweet old man named Victor C. Christina made a promise to herself that she can have no ice cream, custard, frozen yogurt, milkshake, float and/or any other comparable substance until she returns to the Colorado Custard Company and tastes of the custard of the gods from that little shop.
And there you have it. Next time someone says, "I could never . . ." I propose we respond with our own, slightly less mature but just as awkward, "Oh yeah well I can't . . ." Because, really, we can't do everything. So why are we surprised when someone else does something that it's not in our presupposed bounds to do?
On that note, congratz to all my friends who won NaNo this year. You're incredible and today, December first, I realized just how crazy this thing we do every year is. I couldn't seem to pwn my novel this year, but you guys could. You not only won . . . but you're made of win.
Oh, and happy December first. TGIO.
Christina Kuri Icarus