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So, CrookedSixpence is kind of bare these days. The way I figure, there’s no better way to shake the new place up than with a stupid gimmick. And what stupider gimmick is there than writing a novel… in two days?

I’ve always wanted to write a novel. I was pretty impressed with myself for covering five index card-sized scraps of construction paper with writing when I was 8. I wrote about 30 notebook pages of sci-fi drivel when I was 14. I got through 1,000 words during last year’s NaNoWriMo. And that’s about as far as I’ve ever gotten. At least, when I had a “novel” in mind.

My problem is that I’m a perfectionist. I edit and re-edit and never get past those first few pages because they just refuse to be perfect. Now, if I have a working period of just two days, I can’t do much editing, can I? I pretty much just have to sit down and type every word that forms a sentence and hope that each sentence relates to its predecessor somehow.
So there’s my challenge.

Actually, my next challenge is to figure out when I’ll be doing this. I don’t have any spare time until April. But I’m doin’ it, folks! I don’t guarantee it’ll be good, but it’s gonna happen either way. Your job is to tell me how sad I’ll make the kittens and puppies of the world if I chicken out. And… go.