NaNoWriMo, Do Your Worst

It’s here! It’s here! Okay, it came almost five days ago, but it’s here!

National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is officially upon us. What’s that? It’s where individuals from across the world support each other in trying to actually write 50,000 words (not a novel, but a pretty darn good start) in 30 days. It breaks down to writing a little less than 1,700 words a day. One page is about 350 words, but I’ll let you take care of the math from there. (Obviously math is not my thing. I’m not participating in National Quotient Derivative…Whatever Whatever Month).

Because NaNoWriMo is super flexible and more there to support you in what you choose, I’m going a bit of a different route with it. My goal is to write 25,000 words this month towards a novel and 25,000 words toward Precariosities. It should be really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really pretty easy.

I’ll share updates throughout Wednesdays in November on “The Midweek Freewrite.” Right now my word count is at a pitiful 2,200. Whoops. If you are a fellow NaNoWriMo-er, I’d love to connect with you, and best of luck!

This excerpt is the prologue to a story that I had written before this month, but I’m hoping to add a hefty 25k to it.

Always feel free to critique 🙂 Feedback from readers is not something I often get, but it’s crucial I develop a thick skin and am made aware of what is good and bad.

Enjoy!


My name is Asher Gurvich, and I am not sure I should be writing this. I am not even sure what to say. Let me begin by saying there are hurts in this world so immense and cruelty so unimaginable you want to never speak of them again. Once the nightmare is over you want to run away, change your name, seek the sunshine, and build a new life. Forget everything you once were or went through: this is your reality now. But the hurts and the cruelties are truth, and truth must be spoken at any cost. 

Life has stolen most of my voice. Talks are held at low volume, close to my ear, so the converser may be nearby for my soft response. They see an old man worn down by time and trials, and it is so. My body is bedraggled, but my mind has not once failed me yet. I remember what flowers were laid on my best friends grave—baby’s breath—in honor of the child he never met because of the war. I remember the first catch I ever made in my league; a pop-fly to center field and dammit it was a smart one. I remember the ice cream flavor my wife and I ate in celebration one evening, for that morning she told me she was pregnant. And it is for these–my wife, my children, my family, my loves—I cannot speak. To speak would be to break, and to break would be to end. I have wanted to end many things in my life—including my own life—but that is a darkness of the past I wish to have remain there. 

Instead, I am typing these, letter by letter, in a quiet corner of my study. I hope they should find these a few years after I pass on, so as to have time to mourn and mend. I do not wish sadness with these words, only knowledge, and so prevention. Someone once said “we must learn history to ensure it doesn’t repeat itself,” and I have never agreed with anything more in my life. This is not for my sake, but for theirs. I hope they will forgive me for telling them in this way, but I haven’t the strength to in any other. 

Because the truth is, my nightmare never really ended.


Before You Go

What do you think this is about? What struck you the most in this prologue?

What do you want to have happen? What are you picturing?

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2 thoughts on “NaNoWriMo, Do Your Worst

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