This evening I did not read fanfic, because I got a little tipsy (a lot tipsy) and didn't want to keep a pen in my hand at that point. It also felt nicer to snooze in-and-out on the sofa while listening to Jacqueline play a video game, Roberts play a computer game and John puts about online with various other characters appearing at random. (Pirate mentioned that he should write on my face, thinking I was asleep; I surprised him by announcing that that would probably end badly. He argued that he had many sharpies; I countered that I probably had more colours and more patience. He laughed and left.)
Instead I spent the evening calculating how much I've written. As in, the entirety of my writing folder. Which has been open and active since 2005.
I have written around 823,000 words of creative writing (novels, stories, poems, songs, prose, fanfic, things like that; not any academic work). At least, the stuff I've got saved - more floats around on the Internet or in folders, but I think no more than 10,000 words. I was curious how close to 1,000,000 I was.
It's less than 120,000 per year, though - and with NaNoWriMo taken out (which I do every year), it's around 68,000 - so another NaNo-and-1/3rd-or-so. But at least if I keep going at this rate then I will definitely hit 1,000,000 words before I'm 25.
(I would like to state that many of these words are not usable and no one but me will see many of them as they were written entirely to keep myself sane and not to possess any semblance of reasonable quality.)
It was interesting to take a look at my writing folder in more depth than the usual scan-to-find. It needs a lot of organisation since I have multiple copies of stories in different folders and the like. I also checked the 'current works' folder and found stories I couldn't remember writing at all that I may be able to finish. Even scanning, I could see how my writing has changed from age 15 to now - interesting to spot!
Soon enough I should have a count for how much I've written since April. I think this year won't turn out to be such a bad writing year after all; I thought it would be since I had the dissertation and final exams. I also have three fics to write before September...because the first thing a person should do once she has freed herself of deadlines is willingly step into more. *Groans.* :Þ
And that, my friends, is all I am willing to do with numbers today! Numbers be gone!
Today (yesterday, really, since it's past midnight) is/was Mr. Dufault's birthday. (He was my 9th-, 10th- and 12th-grade English teacher). I made a FB update about not having summer reading (finally) and how I'd spend the summer reading, which would make him proud - and also Happy Birthday (in my own phrasing). He always hated summer reading; he thought the students who would normally read would be forced to read books for school over books they would normally choose and the students who didn't read would often not do it or use online notes (or hurriedly read in the days before school/the first days of school and not score well). He let me read Silent Spring and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy one year, I think, even though they weren't on the list. He told me that a good essay on the books would give him enough information to know how well I had grasped the material, despite not having read Silent Spring. I was grateful. Ah, that man, that teacher. I remember in early high school Veda was always the writer in class; I looked back on it and projected jealousy. Now I recall that I used to write two sentences for every vocab word assigned: one would be part of a fanfic story (and better written); the other would be a simpler sentence just to prove I grasped the meaning of the word. I was hiding my writing. :B I was a silly student! (Or the building incident: "name a building that is a proper noun...Nick!" "The Unitarian Universalist Association Headquarters." "Most students would just say 'The Prudential' or 'The White House', but not our Nick!" Or how I used to write dark sentences for most of the vocab words on tests; they were always sarcastic and he loved them.)
(I go off on tangents about him, I know!) Mainly I realised that he would like this post. He told me that I had to Keep Writing and that I wasn't allowed to Not Write, even as I was headed off over the arts-science chasm to a science discipline (and over the puddle to England). So I'm still writing.
He's going to the Aggie's graduation tomorrow. I'm thrilled to hear it. I'm also thrilled to remember him. Good teachers. *Smiles.* Good teachers - so exciting and wonderful! They stick in the mind. It's nice to remember Aggie graduation time (and pre-graduation time) given that this year my graduation won't be so personal. America seems to do graduation better, even in high school. At least better than Uni. Reading.
"The bluebird sings a lullaby; the firefly gives a light; the twinkling stars are candles bright; sleep, Faeries all, Good <*u>Night</u>."
[Elizabeth T. Dillingham; "A Faery Song"]