So much so that I every time I log onto my account and look at the wordcounts of all my buddies, I want to cry.
I think the only reasons I'm not doing well are:
1.) I'm super busy. Okay, I know everyone uses this excuse. But really, it's true. I have to work on my graduation project, while doing homework for other classes. Also, since I'm ambassador of my school, I spend most of my time at meetings that last for three hours. On top of that, I am apart of this after school program and this human rights and racial equality program that I'm going to later on today or in two hours.
2.) I don't know my main character. Her personality is always changing and when I started over, I found that she is way different than what I remembered. She has this I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude, and I don't even know where that came from.
3.) This is a rewrite. While I know NaNo is all about sucky first drafts. This is the second draft of my novel, and I don't want it to be too sucky or else I'll just end up back in square one.
4.) I didn't outline. But that's my own fault. I'm lazy. I don't know where to begin when it comes to outlining. I do a lot of thinking about the plot, characters etc. in my head, but when it comes to writing all of it down...no.
So there you have it. Those are the reasons why I'm sucktastic this month. I just want to get my rewrite underway so that I can edit, and (hopefully) send it off to betas in March or earlier than that if I'm lucky.
Plus, I want to query during the summer, so I have a lot to do if I want to make anything happen.
I have Thursday off from school, so I'll hopefully get to do a little more writing.
Here's another snippet from FAR FROM HERE:
Good girls ask their parents if they can go out. I don't have any parents and Margaret doesn't really give two shits about me, so hopping into a car with a boy on a school night without asking permission doesn't really make me a bad girl.
It just makes me a girl who stopped giving a fuck a long time ago.
"You ready, babe?" Cord asked, as I pulled on my seat belt, his eyes watching my every move. Not in a checking-me-out sort of way, but in a is-there-something-you're-not-telling me sort-of-way that I hated, especially when it was coming from him of all people.
"Yeah, sure," I breathed, meeting his gaze.
"Is there..." he started, and I held up my hand, catching his words, imprisoning them between my fingers.
"I'm fine." This wasn't the truth, but I have gotten so good at telling lies that it didn't really matter anymore.
"Okay," Cord said, releasing me from his icy stare. The car grew silent, as we both focused our attention on the road before us.