A First Day Report
On Monday night, while I slept, an enthusiastic group of writers sat in a diner and waited for midnight to arrive so they could get the earliest possible start on NaNoWriMo. By the time I awoke, they were a few thousand words ahead of me.
As I sat down to begin my novel last night, I must admit to feeling somewhat behind those that had taken an early lead. I had to remind myself that this was a race against the calendar, not against other people. Before I began typing, I refocused on the game plan. My game plan is simple: write at least 1,700 words a day in a fun and relaxing environment.
Yesterday, I wrote on the train to Mountain View, in Books Inc. while eating a chicken Caesar salad, at the write-in on the second floor of the Red Rock Coffee Company and on the light rail train home. By the end of Day 1, I had logged a decent number of words and commuter miles. Here is an excerpt:
Mayor Grewsome moved his lips, silently reciting the entire speech from the beginning and upon finding the spot where he left off, assumed a more authoritative position in his hardwood recliner. He sipped his vodka martini and continued, "The first mission they built was Santa Beyonce, the mission you would be able to see from this very deck if the Mayor's Efficiency were ten stories taller and we were facing west and it was light outside and the mission still existed."
"Pardon me for interrupting again," said Rharles. "But may I be so bold as to ask what happened to Santa Beyonce?"
"Oh, well no one could say the name without snickering or mentioning jelly. Eventually, Father Barista, he was Santa Beyonce's caretaker, got so fed up that he ordered the mission destroyed."
"Wait, why did he not simply rename it?" cried the Prince of Rhales.
"It would seem that Father Barista was one to give orders before thinking them through. By the time the idea of renaming the mission came to him, the building was nothing but rubble. In its place, he built a mission of monumental proportions, one that no one would dare to snicker at. It took nearly fifty years to complete, but just one glimpse at Santa Britney will tell you it was worth every year. The mission, of course, is named after Saint Britney of Aheehee and the it's hard to miss."
"Yes, I couldn't help but notice the adobe skyscraper as our plane approached Som Fawn See."
"Ah, yes, the mission is fifty stories high and is home to the world's three largest bells, all five stories in height. I am told they can be heard from across the bay. Of course, I'm also told that ringing all three at the same time causes walls to crack, windows to shatter and pigeons to explode."
"Perhaps it would be possible to visit this marvel before I leave?" the Prince suggested.
"I don't know if that can be arranged, Rhuck, I mean, Your Majesty. I don't believe the church has received its latest shipment of earplugs."
"Well, I am certain we won't be needing them if we are inside and several stories below the bells, my dear Mayor."
"Oh, they're not for the bells, they're for the organ. It is twenty stories tall and requires a dozen men to operate it. I understand that certain chords are strictly forbidden since they would cause irreparable damage to the building. I also understand the church prohibited the organists from playing Handel's Messiah until they finds a way to cut the number of fatalities by at least half."
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