I won’t lie–I didn’t shower yesterday. I also stayed up until three in the morning because I was so jazzed from all the coffee I drank. And all the writing I did. I’m thinking that it was a combination of coffee and writing that kept me from showering. Here’s how I got there.
Coffee = Ability to focus
Lots of coffee = Super focus crazy time
NaNoWriMo = crazy time
Lots of coffee + NaNoWriMo = NO TIME TO SHOWER. If you’re not smelly you’re not doing it right. Or not doing it write…get it??
Below is a picture of me from about a year ago when I also hadn’t showered in a day or so. I think the longest I’ve gone without showering is three days, and that’s because I was sailing on a tall ship and we were only allowed to take showers every three days. If you want to see dirty wait until you see boys who decide that they don’t even need to shower that often…or use deodorant…
Fear not: I showered this morning. And it felt great. I also wrote a fair amount, so it is now clear to me that there’s no causal relationship between not showering and a high word count (thanks, stats class!). I shall try to do it every day for the rest of November.
I make no promises, though.
Words written today: 1,790
Total word count: 6,027
AND for getting through that shower nonsense, here’s an excerpt from what will hopefully one day be my novel (keep in mind we’re still in first-ish draft territory):
Calloway had never seen grass in the ground before. He remembered his mother kept pots of it at home after their healer suggested it would be good for her to look after something. He had seen screen shots of clearings and meadows and fields but had never walked on grass before. It stretched on for miles until it ran into a mountain covered with buildings. He knew the rest of the farm was carved deep into the core of the mountain, with rooms for the herders and healers and staff. But all he could do was stare at the grass. He’d known it would be here, but knowing was different than seeing. The different hues of green and the yellow tall-grass and specks of brown where the soil had worn through captivated him. Paddocks dimpled the pasture at regular intervals and he watched as the PlusOnes frolicked in the sunshine.