Literary Panic

Somehow, in conversation with a colleague at work, I talked myself into signing up for National Novel Writing Month. Which means, over the month of November, I have to write a short novel of 50,000 words (~175 pages of type). Which comes down to typing about 2,000 words a day. Arduous, but achievable. I mean, there's people who climb Mt. Everest, for gawd's sake. Surely this was doable.

Of course it sounded to me like a lofty goal - but still, an exciting challenge. Until I suddenly realised that November starts tomorrow. Which means, if we do some nifty calculations and work back from t here, that I now have less than twenty four hours to come up with some semblance of plot, theme and characters.

I wonder if there's a Booker Prize for incoherent literature.