As of 11:47 P.M. and thirty-seven seconds Central Standard Time on Saturday,
November 30, 2002, _Apogee Meadows_ was validated by NaNoWriMo. I am no
longer an aspiring writer. I am now an amateur novelist, with professional
More specifically, I'm the dark horse of NaNoWriMo, baby. Until November
21st, I didn't even have six thousand words. In the last twenty-four hours
alone, I have cranked out just under thirteen thousand. If there is someone
else out there who would like to vie for the title of comeback king, I'd
love to meet them.
I'd like to thank Ann for suggesting that I participate. I'd like to thank
Nancy for telling me that I could do it. I'd like to thank Allen for telling
me that I couldn't -- your Jedi mind tricks are crude, but effective. I'd
like to thank my family for their constant reinforcement. I'd like to thank
my cat, Fortune, for glaring at me evilly when I was hunched over the
keyboard at five in the morning. I'd like to thank the dozens of other
friends and enemies who took the time to ask me how it was going, or to mock
my weaker turns of phrase, or to put up with my erratic behavior over the
last week, or to ICQ or mail me relentlessly with messages of support.
You're good people, and I owe you beer.
If this whole thing boiled down to one person -- and I believe that it
does -- it would be Brieann. I do not know of a more beautiful, patient,
supportive, versatile, creative, loving, encouraging, forgiving person than
Brieann. She kept me focused, she kept me sane, she kept me inspired, she
kept me organized, she kept me positive, she kept me healthy, and she kept
me fed. She suffered through a whole lot of craziness and a whole lot of
sleepless nights, and managed to do it while still being the most incredible
human being I've ever met. There is no doubt in my mind that I could not
have finished this without her. Honestly, I doubt I could have even begun
it. Brieann, I love you with all of my heart. I could not possibly repay you
everything I owe you, but I will certainly try.
Incidentally, the novel weighs in on my word processor at 50,262 words. By
way of comparison, that's about a hundred times the size of this email, or a
little under a hundred 8.5 x 11" pages in Arial 10-point font -- I'm not
sure how that translates to a bound book, but my understanding is that it
would work out to between one hundred fifty to two hundred pages. There's a
twenty-thousand word excerpt posted for the curious at
http://www.schizotypal.org/nanowrimo/; in a few days, the whole thing will
be up there, and in a convenient printable version, to boot. Sure, it's
rambling and it's shamelessly padded, and in many spots it's awkward and
juvenile, but it's coherent in a few places, and amusing in a few others.
And it's done. And it's mine.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, has been my ego trip for the month of
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