Project: Fail Better*

A friend and I have declared we will spend the months of May and June working on our respective failing novels to see what comes of it. Sort of like a lite version of NaNo, only even more lite than that.

How this works (for our purposes):

  • Timeframe: May 1 – June 30.
  • Set word count goal: … um… shit. I don’t think we have one? I’m officially doing 350 words/day because it’s basically the lowest number I can think of that still might feel accomplishment-ish.
  • Project: I can’t remember what I’m supposed to be working on. (I think it was Faster Than Pain? That’s the thing I’ve inexplicably repeatedly decided I’ll work on at the expense of deciding to work on any other potential written thing, right? I’ll make a real decision later.) Faster Than Pain, also At the Bitter End because I’m still somehow convinced having options works for me, all evidence to the contrary. [Further Postscript (05/30/14, 10:06pm):

I have just realized that it is probably a good thing this friend and I live nearly on opposite sides of the country from each other or we’d likely spend the next two months fucking around in coffee shops and “writing” (read: not actually writing) and then feel an awful crippling guilt over the whole thing because we’re not bad people, we’re just really, really lazy and writing is hard, damn it.***

Or at least I would. I don’t know about him. Maybe he has some semblance of discipline when it comes to self-directed projects. (Protip: That is a valid and extremely crucial skill if one expects to become a writer that gets paid for writing.)

[Postscript (04/29/14, 12:38 ayem): If anyone else would like to do the same or similar, go for it. If not, that’s cool too. Whatever verbs your noun.]

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*Yes, it’s another of my many supposed “projects” that generally begin with grand intentions and then abruptly fall apart/suffer a slow agonizing death/go nowhere by some other means.
**Which is basically what I used to do through the entirety of for-real NaNo every year, back when I still went to things irl.
***This is my excuse. There are many like it but this one is mine. (Given, it’s not a good excuse, like, at all and I need to cut it the fuck out.)

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