Come Day 14, and I don't even want to think about how far behind Wordcount (yes, with a capital W) I am - albeit I do mean behind my double-wordcount of writing two novels in a month, but that only makes it worse.
In my defence, unlike for all those lovely Americans out there, for whom November is that month when things don't happen and the weather isn't that great (sort of like an Australian July, I imagine), November in Australia is the months of exams. On top of my 3334 words a day (yes, I know, what was I thinking?) I have had to write some 6000 words all-up of assessments. All in all, this seems like a bad idea.
In terms of the actual novels, they are not actually progressing poorly, wordcount. Yes, the Fantasy novel has descended into something which I would refer to as 'self-fanfiction': I have been writing one-shots about my characters' childhoods, cute little stories about their future children, and other things that will never serve any purpose. On the plus side, this adds to wordcount, and is more fun than stressing about plot (what is this...plot?). On the minus side, they have nothing to do with the novel, which is becoming something like a series of loosely connected vignettes. But I'm sure it can be salavaged, and by the end of the month it will have presented me with a whole host of interesting ideas, which may be turned into a novel, one day.
As for the Dystopian novel, I have been presented with a problem, which I saw coming a mile off. It was meticulously planned, and in planning, it's very easy to kill of your characters. You just write, "Arthur dies," and there you have it - Arthur is dead. In actual writing, you have just spent 13 days with Arthur, and you're far too attached to him to just kill him off. I have a feeling my novel will end up with a whole lot less deaths than I originally intended, simply because I'm a wussy writer who doesn't want to kill people. We shall see how that progresses.
Conclusion is that writing two novels may have been overreaching myself, just a little. On the other hand, it may still be salvagable, after I hand in my final essay come Friday, and then have two weeks of frantic novelling stretching before me. I have seriously considered just giving up on Nano, looking at my thirty-something-thousand words with pride, and then taking up a series of short stories in which Enjolras and Cicero solve crime instead. But I've found that I can't do it. After four years of successfully completing Nano, I don't want to break my streak. I really like those little purple badges that sit on my profile and make me feel incredibly smug. So I'm not giving up yet. I am just taking a break. I want that purple badge.
I hope the rest of you Wrimos out there are feeling more motivated than me, and also finding yourselfs burdened with less essays on the moral decline of the Late Roman Republic. Happy novelling! (If you're not doing Nanowrimo, and are feeling left out, I promise you a post later this week, written by my lovely sister, on why Nano doesn't have to be everyone's cup of tea. Watch this space.)