Thursday, November 16, 2023

November Is Novel Writing Month


A few years back, I learned that November was novel writing month.  When twitter was twitter, authors used to post how many words they had written a day or week.  If you are like me and wonder how long a novel is, it's usually 80k words, or 80 thousand words, give or take.  I tried to look up how big a general novel is by pages, but I quickly learned they do it by words.  Books are all kinds of different sizes, so it makes sense that they do it that way.  I have never written close to 80k words.

I have always wanted to participate in novel writing month, but whenever November comes around, chaos hits.  I get so busy, and since my mother-in-law passed in November of 2018, it's an emotional month.  I would like to write an actual novel.  The most words I have written for one unfinished story is just over 14.5k back it 2018 (before November).  That story needs major editing and there's much more to write if I ever want to get that done.  I'm not very invested in it except that it's my first serious attempt at a novel.  I am happy to say, while it might not be a novel, I have been working on my next poetry book this month. In fact I have simultaneously been working on it and writing this.  It won't be anywhere close to 80k words, but it will be Much larger than "Un-Clenched Emotion".  It already is.  So I am counting it as a novel.

Since I've made progress on my next book this year, I'll tell you what the title and theme is. I've been holding back until now because I am never sure if it's ever going to get done. My next poetry book will be called "Seasons of Sensation".  I am writing poems for each of the seasons and months over the course of a year in "Seasons of Sensation." It starts on December 21st which is close to New Year's Eve and New Years Day.  It didn't make sense to start on New Years which is 10 days into winter, and then end the book in winter.  Then it would have two sections of winter in the book while the rest of the seasons only have one section.  I have not decided exactly where to end "Seasons of Sensation".  I was thinking of my Birthday, which is December 13th, and close to the end of fall, or the last day of fall, which would be of course, December 20th.  So I am thinking that it might need something after the Birthday poem, but I am leaning towards Birthday because that would make a great beginning or ending in a book about the cycle of the year.  I am also not using numerical dates in "Seasons of Sensation" so an actual poem focusing on December 20th specifically is unnecessary.

Photo by D koi on Unsplash


I haven't left you guys with a new poem, that I don't plan on publishing, in a while... so today I will give you my alternative to "Jack Sprat".  I read a poem that was a nursery rhyme rewritten and decided to do one myself with a science fiction theme.  This fits here because the next poetry book I intend to make after "Seasons of Sensation" is one full of speculative poetry, (science fiction and fantasy poems leaning towards a dystopian, or a dark theme).  Here's my poem:


Jack of the Future

 

“Dear Sir, our nanobots have detected high cholesterol,

and that’s not all,”

I’m afraid your heart may burst,”

It isn’t the worst.

 

“But this technology can heal me, right?”

Of certain things I cannot bite.

 

“The cholesterol, yes,

It isn’t the best,

but you have a rare disease which even nanobots cannot cure,

of that, I am sure.”

“I am afraid you can eat no fat.”

Well, drat.

                        

“Dear Misses, our nanobots have detected a rare disease they cannot fix,

you and vegetables do not mix.”

Impossible,

Not even a salad will be tossable.

“Your body can not digest lean,

eat unhealthily to keep your digestion clean.”

 

Husband and wife together,

Her stout, him light as a feather.

“What’s to be eating?”

Is their greeting.

 

“I can eat no salad,” said she,

“I can eat no meat,” said he.

 

One plate shared.

Still, they were wonderfully paired.

Salad and meat.

Well, isn’t that neat.

 

An empty plate, and empty platter.

Crises averted, nothing’s the matter.  

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