On one hand I am really impressed with myself, I’m nearly a quarter of the way through 2015 and I’ve managed to post 177 times. I’m still on target for posting one a day, but I’ve worked out that if I average at least 300 words a day (and that is a lowball estimate) then I’ve published at least 53,000 words this year so far.
That’s a novel.
Or 2/25ths of a Les Miserables. Either way it’s a lot of words that could have been used in writing my own novel. I did attempt one for NaNoWriMo and failed after the first day. It seems I do have the time and possibly the inclination so why can’t I get a story out of me?
I imagine if I ever did get a novel written the blurb is going to either say one of two things. Either:
About time, for too long we have waited for this and rather than get on with producing this piece of work he has sat for too long binge watching Parks and Recreation. If the effort he put into his Netflix habit was transferred to typing then maybe he could be as prolific as GRRRR Martin.
The other likelihood is that gumf on the cover will question why I even bothered.
They say that everyone has a book in them, and while that my be true this isn’t that book. Instead this is a collection of words and sentences that follow some loose theme we’ll be generous and call a plot. In the same way that modern art is just a mess of paint on canvas maybe this is just modern writing.
Either way the biggest problem is still going to be having a cover to write these comments on. There are eight months left of the year, I could either write two novels or continue to find random topics to write a few hundred words on.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “BYOB(ookworm).”
Write the blurb for the book jacket of the book you’d write, if only you had the time and inclination.