Still going on about novels, hide

Now that I have written some thousands of words today, I am feeling slightly better about this whole noveling business today - one of the reasons being that yes, I have a counter again, and I have a forum other than NaNoWriMo to share the pain of creation in:

National Novel Finishing Month, NaNoFiMo!

Well, sure, it ain't as pretty as the real NaNoWriMo site, but currently, I just can't stand seeing people who are celebrating the ends of their novels when I has as much as (yes, I calculated with my calculator of doom, again - somehow it's a lot more calming to see the numbers you need to achieve than just the general feeling of OH ME GAWD I HAFTA WRITE SOME MORE) 137,000 words to write in order to, approximately, finish this novel.

... And, since I am a dork like that (and I found a better template on the site I posted the last counter from), I made a new counter to reflect this goal. I made the counter based on the fact that the frozen wordcount for November on the NaNoWriMo site is 158,388 (so this number of words is excluded from the counter), and then, according to the average count of words for a chapter, calculated (and rounded up) the total number of words my novel will be (based on current statistics, of course), and thus calculated, by simple subtraction, the words I will need to write to achieve this goal. Here you can see the not-very-visually awesome counter:

Oh, and before I keep on going about my novel, I will link you and go on about this magnificent candyblog I found last night, just because I spent most of the night (instead of writing my novel, I know), making lasting physical and mental damage to my pillow by drooling all over it, and I think damage like that is just worth sharing.

Since I have not much more to add to this, and since I've been so very bad with the whole telling-about-my-novel-but-not-actually-allowing-anyone-to-see-the-story thing, I will post some more excerpts for the, well, benefit of my, er, few readers. ... Yeahh. By the way, I didn't mean it to happen in that way, but the boys obviously disagreed with me...!

“Nicholas?” asked a familiar male voice in a very unfamiliar way, woven with concern (that was uncertain, as if not used for very long, as if discarded or put on hold somewhere, to have it appear rusty when drawn out next time). The black-haired boy opened his eyes again, not having noticed that he had closed them - and then startled, seeing as Sebastian had somehow moved very close and pulled him away from the rest of the fellowship, still working their own, curling and coiling anger, helplessness and non-understanding from the lump of emotions that worked their ways into the surface in the oddest, most out-of-place times (which served to agitate the fellowship further; the knowledge that they shouldn’t be doing this now and here), and also away from now two very confused cherubs, holding their private counsel somewhere else, not very respectful or understanding toward the fellowship they were glancing toward every now and then. Nicholas was also aware of the fact that Sebastian was very close, and his usually icy eyes were not almost unreadable.

“You’ve figured something,” the blonde boy said, and it wasn’t a question, even though his unreadable look did take a questioning tint to it, and a fleeting smile curled at the blonde boy’s mouth with a tilt of his head. “Out with it, then,” the boy continued, “Let us hear it!”

Nicholas, having calmed down from his earlier burst of enlightenment and understanding and annoyance due to events, was only mildly irritated by the request - and that was merely because he was left speechless, with a hot and prickly feeling threatening to spill salty liquid from his eyes, his mouth gaping open and his breath leaving him in a rush of gratitude. He closed his mouth, blinked slowly to will away the tears and breathed shakily in, out, then wet his lips with a swipe of his tongue and only then braved a glance toward Sebastian’s uncharacteristically warm gaze, something that suggested that while Sebastian was callous and — oh, Nicholas could not deal with this, it was like from a bad novel or something, honestly, so predictable and he had to swipe a hand over his eyes just to keep himself in check and not embarrassing himself in front of a friend that had been jokingly flirting — Nicholas, just, be quiet, he told himself firmly.