Madame Pigheaded rises again

Believe it or not, I'm going to finish my novel in the next nine days.

38,000-ish words divided by nine equals 4222-ish words a day. Can do. WILL DO.

I'm either incredibly persistent or incredibly stubborn. Actually, I'm both. I know. It wasn't hard to figure that out.

It's a holiday weekend and I have few plans, a lot of time off work, and little money for the doing of fun outside-the-house activities, which is why I believe this is all doable. Especially if I can make it to 40,000 words by, say, Monday.

The former-English-major-procrastinator in me who used to sit down to write 10-page papers the night before they were due is incredibly stoked at the idea of writing so much in the next few days. Besides, I like my novel and I want to finish it. Last year's novel was a great stepping stone to familiarizing myself with fiction and how bitchly it can be to write it. I finished last year's novel even though it became some strange, futuristic lesbian love story with a sci-fi bent at the end. (I figure I was hallucinating by the end of the month because, like this year, I did a lot of hard and fast creating after not writing for several days in a row.)

Even though I haven't gone back to look at my first novel since last year and consider it a bastard stepchild who's shoved into timeouts in a locked and dark closet, I'm still incredibly proud that I finished the novel in less than a month. I got the NaNoWriMo winner's certificate last year and I want it again this year. Because I need validation, that's why. Yes, always. I've learned to accept my need for external validation. I mean, c'mon, we're talking about a certificate I print off the INTERNET, people. It means something.

I have no logical end to this entry, so I'll simply say happy early Thanksgiving! May your celebrations with friends and/or family (birth or chosen) be swell.