This is my casual eulogy for the casualties of my NaNo WIP so far. I’ve just taken this from a post I did on the forums so no need to worry I’ve wasted the words.
RIP, nameless people in country X. You had to die by plague so that Plague/Pestilence could be realized.
RIP, those two nations’ worth of militants, pacificists, and civilians. You had to die in a blaze of mutual destruction so that War could be realized.
RIP, half the world’s harvest of fresh produce. You had to rot so that Famine could be realized.
RIP, nameless faceless people in country Y. You had to drown in a massive flood so that Death could be realized.
RIP, the elegant, chilling story I meant to write. You had to die so that my NaNo aspirations could be realized.
Slowly but surely, those aspirations are coming to fruition. My brain cannot wait for December 1st.
In case you couldn’t tell from the above, I chose to write “Seer.” It’s going well and I love the story. Here’s to another great year! Best of luck to all those still in the WriMo trenches, those who’ve tapped out, and those who’ve already won. ❤