NaNoWriMo Standings – Week 1

For the month of November, instead of posing our Cafe writers a question about writing or their writing lives, we’re covering National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The only thing our writers are asked to turn in from here on out is daily missives (short, short entries) about their progress.

Every Saturday, we’re offering up a scorecard of sorts, asking our writers to submit their current word count and a favorite line from their work. So, as of Friday night, here are our standings:

R.L. Naquin (8,018 words)

We wandered through Tent City, checking in on a snoring chupacabra, two gargoyles playing a weird sort of poker with sardines, and a merman stretched out in a puddle of moonlight by the pool, apparently working on his moon tan.

Christie Holland (6,209 words) — Municipal Liaison

Jason Arnett (5,445 words)

Kevin Wohler (4,988 words)

Worse yet, the Fracture still existed — a mile-wide tear in reality. The chaotic energy churning from it like a dark aurora borealis suggested that the event that had leveled the city in 1985 could happen again any day. Maybe tomorrow.

Jack Campbell, Jr. (4,800 words)

Jessi Levine (4,793 words)

Larry Jenkins (3,776 words)

He mumbled a few of the words, like maybe his lips and tongue weren’t exactly working in concert anymore, but it was close enough for me to understand what he was saying.

I’m fairly fluent in shit faced.

Sara Lundberg (3,514 words) — Municipal Liaison

Ashley M. Poland (2,892 words)

Ted Boone (2,666 words)

The girl reached out and touched the side of Gray’s face again, this time gently. “What I’m telling you,” she whispered, “is that this is going to hurt.”

Aspen Junge (2,475 words)

Cafe Management is run by the administration of The Confabulator Cafe. We keep things running smoothly, post stories by guest authors, and manage other boring back-end tasks.

1 Comment

  • Jason Arnett says:

    Here’s a favorite line from last night. The end of a fever dream:

    “Of course I’ve looked better,” the female doctor said. “But what’s important four seventy one thousand sixteen.”
    Albert’s confusion didn’t matter. They were doing something to him, opening him up. His heart beat in the hand of one of the men.

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