NaNoWriMo 2011

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

Now that I'm a pro high schooler, I think my writing is good enough to write 50k words of something.

Seems like Smogon is full of the literary types. Is anyone else going to go for it? Or has anyone actually completed (shudder) this massive voluntary homework assignment?
 
Hmmmm....Seems interesting. I'm just starting high school and I'm already an avid writer. Mostly I like to read and write fantasy and definitely fiction. This seems quite cool though. But I'm a little confused. Are you supposed to sign up on nanowrimo and then every month you write a novel for people to review? Or is it where you submit a piece of work every month?
 
I won last year :happybrain:

I'm doing it this year too. I am planning to write five short stories 10,000 words apiece. That way I will be sure to actually finish something rather than write the first 50K of a daunting 250K+ novel.

Nanowrimo is just about writing 50,000 words in November. It's a honor system, nobody actually checks that you did it, quality is irrelevant, and they don't read you either. It's just a motivator to get people writing, and it works well (for me, anyway). There are usually write-ins in almost all major cities where people gather to write, check if there's anything for your location if that interests you.

Edit: for what it's worth, I just registered #nanowrimo on IRC.
 
I'm going to do it, been wanting to do this for a while :) Tried to do it the last 3-4 years with a combined ~2500 words, but I'm determined to win this year.
 
A few of us did NaNoWriMo last year too! I won twice, skipped a year due to exams, forgot the next year, and gave up midway last year (at about 20k words, I think). Not going to bother to attempt this year since I don't think I have the energy, but it's a lot of fun and I hope to participate next year... I'm still getting emails from the site and the ML, which makes me kind of jealous of the people who are doing it, but I don't want to stop the emails. x_x Good luck to everyone who's attempting this one. I hope even if you don't reach the 50k target (or whatever finish line you set), you can write at least part of something you're proud of.
 

az

destined person
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requesting a copy of brain's winning entry and fette's winning entries, i would love to read them
 
I don't have them anymore due to not having them backed up (thank god).

Just horrible, horrible memories.

Would love to read Brain's though >_>
 

evan

I did my best -- I have no regrets
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Every year I try to do Nanowrimo and I end up getting bogged down with school/work and never manage to make it through. I think I just need more discipline or something. Going to try again but probably won't make it through.
 
It's okay, evan, November is a horrible month for it so you can always blame that =(

gl.

Az - well, if you do the math, I was 13 and 14 x.x 12 and 13 really, my birthday is in mid-November...
 
I write in French, unfortunately, else I'd be glad to let you read.

I might try to write one of the short stories in English just to see how well I can do it. My English is a lot more technical than it is literary, though, so it doesn't work as well as I'd like for fiction.
 
Brain I'd still love to read it haha.

I love writing but I'm in a total creative slump right now and have a shit-ton of school work on top of working at the library for 16 hours a week so I think I'm out this year @_@
 
i've actually never heard of this before this year, and i'm going to attempt it starting tomorrow! i'd share my idea, but if i actually finish this out strong, i'd rather it be a surprise. :)
 

Alchemator

my god if you don't have an iced tea for me when i
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I did this last year and won! It was a cohesive story too. Good luck to all who are entering (though you will [should have!] started by now).

And because I love all the hatred I get for posting my writings:
Arthur blinked, adjusting his eyes to the lighter morning conditions, though it was perpetually dark. He had been what he would have liked to have called “asleep”, though such a thing was impossible with the never-ending noises filling the dirty air above him. There were gunshots at every hour; some bullets finding their mark, though hitting anything living would suffice. Artillery shells skidded through the mud, and being vigilant was necessary at all times. There were now-muffled cries coming from the screamer tent, a good few hundred metres behind where Arthur was attempting to get away from this place that even surpassed his nightmares in horror. However, these noises were not in any way out of the ordinary, not even the piercing cries of the traumatised. The noise that was keeping Arthur awake (or, rather, slipping into a semi-conscious state – “do not let sleeping lions lie, for sleeping lions die” was a common phrase between the soldiers) was the great clamour of engines and general shouting.

Artillery shells had been arriving for many days, and now the wall of ammunition was taller and wider than the trucks that came to add to the mountain of canned destruction. Arthur got up and lazily picked up his gun, noting the impression that they had both left in the mud, though it seemed to be composed more of worms and rats than of earth. Arthur wandered over to his friend, who was sitting a few feet away from the mound, and sat down next to him. This had been the situation for as long as the pile of shells had been building, and Arthur supposed that Dan would probably change his usual greeting – you know; keep things fresh in a place so dull and detestable.

“Cigar?”

Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. Dan had run out of cigars a long time ago, yet he still found it necessary to offer Arthur one. The experiences of war affected people in different ways, and Dan seemed to have his own special mental mutation. Arthur continued with the charade – deviation from such a routine could land Dan in the screamer tent, and being sent there launched its “patients” (though there was no cure) into a downward spiral of trauma.

“No thanks. Lovely weather, isn’t it?”
“No.”
This was different. Arthur sat up, pulled out of his general daily trance consisting of a mix of apathy and terror. The expected answer was “Yes, quite.” Then Arthur would comment on how large the ammunition pile was, and Dan would start talking about his life back home. This short, unusual answer threw the entire conversation off on a different path – it was a path that worried Arthur.

“What do you mean?”
“Look at the sky, Arthur, and tell me what you see.”
“Well, it is quite cloudy actually. It could rain later, but that isn’t anything particularly unusual!”

Generally, unfunny jokes involving the weather are found to be extremely humorous for some odd reason. However, the now-philosophical Dan met the quip with a stony silence.

“You are not looking hard enough, Arthur. Look again.”
“Are you insane, Dan? There is nothing else there. I am not a weather expert; I cannot tell you the types of clouds that are strewn across the sky, or the exact temperature and whatnot.”
“Ask me what I see.”
“Why don’t you just…”
“Ask me.”
“Dan, would you please tell me what you see in the sky?”
“I see darkness Arthur. We are cut off from the rest of the world, yet its fate lies in our hands. We have no sport or any such thing to talk about, and even the sun has turned away. Now in its place lies darkness. It is cold, and the warmth of life has disappeared. There is only darkness now Arthur…”

He turned, his eyes glazed over with fear. Arthur knew that Dan had now become a screamer. This was not unusual for soldiers who had endured many hardships, though it was still sad that it had happened to Dan. Apparently screamers would never hurt you, but nevertheless Arthur inched back slightly, and waved to the doctors in the screamer tent.

“…only darkness. Soon the darkness will come down, Arthur, and then there is no hope. Even if we win this war, others will be sitting in the spot in which I am now sitting in a few years time. The darkness is coming, Arthur, and this is not the worst of it.”

Dan regarded the doctors with indifference as they grabbed him by the arms and led him away. He did not resist, he was simply silent. That was the strangest aspect of the screamers – they usually said nothing at all.


This is only part of the chapter, and it hasn't been edited yet. This might show.
 

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