I was bored (and waiting for NaNo, obviously), so I wrote this. It's kind of a parody of The Night Before Christmas, and full credit for the original inspiration goes to the author of that poem. This is just my version, for all the struggling NaNo-ers out there XD Hope it's in the right forum!
T'was the day before NaNo and through all the lands,
The writers sat waiting, their pens in their hands.
Some of them gathered in cafes and stores -
Some lurked on the 'net, in spades and in scores.
All of them tense, with one shared source of stress:
It's just about NaNo and their lives are a mess!
Relatives, jobs, study reaching it's peak -
Everything's due by the end of the week!
There's illness and ailments and laptops are dying,
Professors conspiring, and stern parents sighing.
How will we manage even one single word?
The global lament of the NaNo is heard.
And that's just the start! There's also the plot,
about which we know nothing (save that someone gets shot);
the intractable outline, the mutinous lead,
all of these things are a problem indeed!
The thing about NaNo (they are heard to exclaim)
Is it's too fun to resist, but engenders such pain!
And all of those authors, their minds on their goal
vowed never to stop 'til their novels were whole.
Their plots (or the lack of them) danced in their heads
and as it neared midnight, none took to their beds.
All anxiously sat at their desks, in their chairs,
Wondering if this year, 50k would be theirs...!
Good luck, y'all ;)
wombleomlette
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