We're down to the final sprint now. Ten days left. You start today and you have to match the blistering pace of 2k a day just to reach the finish line. For those who've been laboring all month long, it's the last stretch that separates the hardcore write-ists from those suffering from carpal tunnel of the mind. It's make it or break it time.
And, well, I've been slacking off. Oh, I have my excuses (You wouldn't know it from the volume of posts around here but I've been hellishly busy this week. The secret to my success? A buffer.) but it's been a few days since I've touched the script. I'm close to being done but there's many a slip between slugline and “finis”. No telling what could go wrong. Especially since I've been a coward and left off writing some of the most important scenes until now. I've started over three times by now. All because I hit a snarl that needed major untangling. There's no guarantee that won't happen again. Still, I'm not concerned.
I mean, I have ten days left. I have maybe a few thousand words to go. That script is as good as finished. Not a problem. Not a worry. I just have to find the time.
Because, let's face it, I was made for the Script Frenzy contest. I was unsure going in but turns out I take to scriptwriting like a fish to...something wet. Script form is how I write everything. I'm writing dialog now, I'm just not putting it in quotation marks. And, really, any contest where the goal is to pile up your word count is one that I'm well suited for, don't you think? I'm verbose. When you count up posts and e-mails and letters and everything else (And, trust me, I have.) I write ten thousand words a day. On an off day. Writing fiction is harder, slows down the flow of words somewhat, but it's like someone decided to cherry pick a game that I'd be good at. People have told me about it for a long time. Told me that I write long posts. That no one can throw out as much as fast as I do over IM or IRC. That my e-mails are meandering journeys into the mind of a madman. Those people thought it was a bad thing. But they didn't know - I didn't know - that I was just practicing. For this. I can do 50k for NaNo? I can do 20k for this.
And that's I think why I and a lot of other players in this little game are so, well, apathetic. It's only twenty thousand words. If you've done NaNo before, it doesn't seem like much. Less than a thousand a day, well down from the breakneck pace of 1.7k you need to average just to inch past the finish line in December. It's easy to start over. It's easy to skip a day or two. Feels right to take my time, to do things right, to step away and think over this wrinkle or that one before I dive back in. Because it feels like I can easily make it up.
If only I could find the time.
Well, time's running out. And I'm not feeling the pressure. But I am feeling the scythe-like sweeps of the second hand. Slicing away second after precious second. Soon. All too soon. The Frenzy's going to be over. Sanity is going to rein once more. The world's going to be a little grayer and a little more mundane. But in my little corner of it, there's going to be a sparkling new script gleaming away like a prism full of light. If. Only if. Time to start sprinting.