Nanowrimo - False Start

I've decided to do National Novel Writing Month again.  Last year saw me produce 150 pages in 30 days.  It was a momentous and thrilling month that taught me a lot about production and craftsmanship.  While I will not be pursuing the novel I wrote as a long-term project, it unlocked a related project that has been stewing for years.

Since last year I have written something like 72 pages on the new novel.  I am rededicating myself to National Novel Writing Month in a limited capacity this year.  While, yes, I want to do as much writing as possible, I need to have a more nuanced approach to a novel in the works.  I don't want to simply throw words at the project; I want to work in more calculated ways.

What this means is that I am cutting the Nanowrimo goals in half.  I will be working to complete 25,000 words in the month of November.  This will lead me to another 75 or so pages, which will leave me back at 150 pages of solid manuscript to work with.

I have the first act of the novel already worked out, but I'm a little less clear about the second or third acts of the novel.  This month should see me finishing out the first act and then diving into the unexplored territory of the second.

Wish me luck and here we go!!!

Novel's Starting Word Count: 15,159
Word Count for the morning: 898
Ending Word Count: 16,057
Favorite Sentence/Sentences:

The boys grew up under the whine of a skill saw and the compact bursts of the nail gun. Their father roofed the house, his first. He spent an entire summer peeling the old shingles, re-papering the roof and tacking new ones down. Although it might have come from the picture Carol snapped of a shirtless Michael standing on the roof in his tool belt and cutoff jean shorts, Oliver and Dillon both swore they remembered that summer in vivid detail. Weekend afternoons spent in the yards around the house, Carol elbow deep in the flower beds, Michael on the roof with the pneumatic, and Dillon and Oliver free to entertain themselves within the bounds of the property.

The image of that summer spent as a family sustained them for years. It is how they saw themselves as a family up until the moment Michael died. Like all car accidents, Michael’s slapped them in the face and left them whirling.