NaNoWriMo Wrup Up by Cheyenne
NaNoWriMo is pretty much over. Doesn’t it seem stunning how time just flies by in the blink of an eye? I mean, tommorow you’ll be in college, a week from now you’ll get a major award for whatever job you have, and in a month, you’ll be getting married. It’s eye-opening, and very scary. Then follows the patterns of what-ifs: What if that month doesn’t come because I died and I don’t reach that major milestone? What if I break my arm and can’t make it to that award ceremony? What do I do after I turn eighteen? It’s unbelieveable how fragile you are. I wake up every morning wondering the same thing: Is this the day I’ll die? Maybe. Maybe not. Then my eyes drift down to my computer, where my novels lie in wait, staring at me behind the black computer screen, eyebrows raised and half-smiles cocked up. It propels me out of bed and makes me open up the document just to make sure I’m where I left off before powering through another chapter to begin my day. It’s things like my novels that really scare me to thinking like that; we’re all young, and we have so much to live for. So I write everyday, not out of paranoia, but just to write, curiously wondering how many more years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds I could possibly have left on my body’s clock. Is it enough to be recognized for everything I wrote for the world to read?