50,000 words! If this were November, this would be very significant. As it is, it’s just another signpost, rather than a goalpost.

(A few weeks back, JT Glover posted about chapter themes. My chapters generally aren’t themed, but this, the sixteenth, clearly is. It’s about nudity, bodies, being naked emotionally and physically. Which is, I think, the only way my fourteen-year-old narrator, in fact any fourteen-year-old, can be naked; there are no exposed bodies at that age without emotions being likewise exposed.)

Other writing news of note: I finished a series of mutant turtle poems, which I started back in my last semester, so that I could submit them to this superhero poetry anthology. Even if the anthology doesn’t work out, writing poems–not just motes, but honest-to-gee-dash-dee poems–feels good. In celebration, here are the four best TMNT things I could find on youtube:

and this (click on it–it’s worth it). Good god, what is coming out of Donatello’s face?

(In other-other news, ten days till matrimony. Weird.)

No-go from GUD today; onward to IGMS. Am I crazy to keep submitting to these (paying, big) markets? Yes, yes. I think I’ll try F&SF next.

I need to write more short stories. I have a few ideas floating around, nebulous, but nothing that’s caught yet. I’d like to come up with something to send to Cat Rambo, since she wanted to see more.

On the bright side of things, I finally solved a novel-problem (as opposed, I think, to a novel problem). Until yesterday, my love interest had no personality. But on the way home last night, I figured it out: I’ll make him be just as big of a jerk as my protagonist! He’s been wanting to be written that way, anyway. This development means rewriting, but has also allowed me to be terribly productive today. I got twice as much writing done as I normally do.

In fact, I’m nearing the 50,000-word mark (as of right now? 47,570). This is new territory for me; all previous long-form projects died (NaNoWriMo 2006) or ended (last year’s MS) just over 40,000 words. I have really no idea how long this one will be. As long as it takes, I guess. My goal right now is to finish the draft before my 26th birthday. I’m not sure why. It just really feels appropriate.

I plugged the text of my novel (which I’m finally working on again, after a two-week short story hiatus) into this haiku finder and found some gems:

The ladle would fall
with a clatter, flinging broth
on the table cloth.

I stood there, blushing
and awkward, as his nostrils
flared and constricted.

He asked me about
my body, about hiccups
and tonsils and teeth.

I felt big, salty
tears trailing over my face,
splashing in my soup.

While I was busy
scowling about that, Eb was
thinking on his feet.

The boy was gnawing
away at his fingers like
some sort of rodent.

I got up, stretched, felt
how miserable I was, felt
how tired I was.

I’ve reached 40,000 words and the return of Anna Wolff!