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Dec. 1st, 2006 04:30 pmw00t! I have my 50,000 words and I think some of them are even good. I finished at 11.30 last night after the usual scramble (it always takes me by surprise on the last day that I can't keep going on after midnight, plus I only had 2,400 left to do on the last day so got overconfident. In 2002 I did 7,000 on the last day and then went to Slimelight but I'm not as young as I used to be) and then tried to go to bed but was so overexcited I had to get up again and read the whole first book of Promethea before I got tired.
My eyeballs hate me and my shoulders are a mess and I haven't seen most of humanity for weeks, except Dan, who's been furiously writing too and providing moral support. I'm bloody exhausted.
But I'm about to leave for a weekend in a farmhouse in the Cotswolds with comicky people and (I'm told) enough food for an army and I am NOT BRINGING MY LAPTOP. I am going to draw on real paper instead.
I know I owe mail to quite a few people, and even snailmail to some. I'll be in touch when I get back, promise, but for now I go fall over.
Ahhhhh. Flop.
My eyeballs hate me and my shoulders are a mess and I haven't seen most of humanity for weeks, except Dan, who's been furiously writing too and providing moral support. I'm bloody exhausted.
But I'm about to leave for a weekend in a farmhouse in the Cotswolds with comicky people and (I'm told) enough food for an army and I am NOT BRINGING MY LAPTOP. I am going to draw on real paper instead.
I know I owe mail to quite a few people, and even snailmail to some. I'll be in touch when I get back, promise, but for now I go fall over.
Ahhhhh. Flop.
