To NaNo…
To NaNo or not to NaNo, that is the question;
Whether ’tis nobler in the month to write
A novel, by which contain fifty thousand words,
Or to rebel–start early, do novels past
And by rebelling, write. To write, to finish;
At month’s end; and by finish to say verify
The novel we so proudly wrote this month,
Hoping we made it–that the bar is purple
Signifying we have won. To write, to finish;
To finish, perchance to publish. Ay, there’s the hope,
For in that chance of publishing what fame may come,
Borne of caffiene, drunkenness and too late nights,
And padding, too. There’s the secret
That makes successes of novels written,
For who has not taken dares, padded, sporked,
Trebuchets, NaNoisms, forums, halos,
The eating of souls, the music exchange,
Procrastinated, bribed and rewarded,
These forms of NaNoing doth take form and yet,
We ourselves write to reach daily word count,
So not all this helps? Who would deny it,
That all this is what NaNo has become?
For in this time, come what may of it,
The unwritten words from whence the novel flew
Lo, you are taken down paths never known,
Exploring chances grasped of cheeky will,
Than the old paths trod many times before.
Thus doth the muse lead us gaily astray,
And thus the magic of inspiration hued
Settles on the words and makes them free,
And plotlines never imagined and chances
In this moment are found and tested true,
By which they boost the word count. Gentle now,
The fair maiden Hope, of her own chosen will,
Blesses your novel and you.
Yeah, so I based it off Hamlet’s soliloquy. I was bored.
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