fine whine

Well, I did it. I wrote fifty thousand words in one month, into what is loosely to be considered a novel. It is in some parts a work of fiction, which is enough for my standards of ethics or whatever lets me get away with what I just polished off. Moreover in this last day (really the second to last day as I am only an hour into the real last day), I think I churned out some seven to nine thousand words, in well under as many hours. My typing rate must have been phenomenal, as I had to have been coming up with the words as fast as my fingers could type them. I'm more than happy to have earned my little winner's image, and look forward to next year's ordeal with nothing but enthusiasm (as sometime in the intervening eleven months I will need to add an outline and probably some character sheets to that). Now it's time for me to go to bed.