Those of you who've done NaNoWriMo in Northern Ireland before will know that a challenge of reaching 50,000 words in one month isn't enough for us. Oh no, we like to chuck in an extra challenge by daring you to include something specific in your novel (and then post the appropriate excerpt).
In 2006, we all put David Hasslehoff in our novels. 2007 was the first year for the Pumpkin of Sugary Doom, so to include a pumpkin (or more than one) was the challenge. Last year, we went for the fearsome foursome of ninja-pirate-monkey-robot (extra brownie points to anyone who got all four).
This year, to honour our Collection Pig (see his photo here), we dare you to include a pig in your novel.
(Pig-related products such as bacon sandwiches are acceptable.)
----------
- Northern Ireland Municipal Liaison | WriMo Ireland | NI NoWriMo Facebook & Twitter
- Moderator for the Polling Booth
40,506 / 50,000
Nov 5, 2009 - 15 02
Done! And already over a 5th of the way there!
40,000 / 50,000
Nov 6, 2009 - 04 46
I'm about to start the next part and will be including the collection pig
*fingers crossed it goes well*
----------My LJ is here: http://wardrobewitch.livejournal.com/profile
Just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing
40,288 / 50,000
Nov 6, 2009 - 07 12
I will put a bit of pig in my story this weekend. I may even go for a Pig Hasslehff combo.
40,000 / 50,000
Nov 6, 2009 - 16 34
got the story done and the collection pig was the wise one :D
----------My LJ is here: http://wardrobewitch.livejournal.com/profile
Just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing
10,097 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2009 - 05 23
Flying black pigs saved me from a plothole!
Go pigs!!!
----------What do you mean, this is just wool? Are you sure? Do you really know what's in your knitting bag?
46,115 / 50,000
Nov 24, 2009 - 06 50
Dare accepted, and achieved ;o)
- - - - -
“Cheer up, mate, it may never happen.”
The unasked for advice accompanied the very much asked for mug of steaming-hot black coffee that was placed on the lime green table in front of me; a small trickle of spilled coffee formed a pool of black liquid under the cup as the bearer of such enlightened advice showed – with his amazing lack of dexterity - why he was working for minimum wage in a back street café rather than performing silver service duties at one of Belfast’s better establishments … if, of course, there was any such thing. A small plate, with a bacon sandwich swimming in grease, followed the mug.
“F*** off!” I ignored the shocked look on the kid’s spotty face as he walked back towards the kitchen, muttering, and took a ravenous bite out of the sandwich as my stomach lurched at the intrusion of the ‘thing’ that was hurtling down my gullet towards it; I had to struggle to make sure that it didn’t hurtle right back out again but, hero that I was, I won the battle and took another bite, swallowing noisily.
I would love to be able to say that it was the hangover, that was doing it’s very best to excavate my head from the inside out – brought on by a night that officially hadn’t ended yet even though it was nearly seven o’clock in the morning - that prompted my oh-so witty response but, to be honest with you, it wasn’t just that; I am naturally just a grumpy bastard … especially after a whole night without sleep where I had the pleasure of sitting in a cold car and watching a darkened house through a telephoto lens.
Before you ask, no, I am not a voyeur – or, for those of you who find it hard to comprehend words of more than two syllables, I am not a dirty old man – it is my job; I am a private investigator. I get paid to follow people and take photos of them in the privacy of their own homes … perverts don’t get paid. That is the difference; not a big one, admittedly, but it works for me.
As I was saying, though, it wasn’t just the lack of sleep and my natural inclinations to shoot the messenger simply because I could that elicited such a high-brow response; it was his choice of words.
May never happen?
It already had, the worst thing that could ever happen; two years ago, to the day, in fact.
The day that my World ended.
The day that my wife and unborn child died.
- - - -
----------We can only be what we give ourselves the power to be.