Novel & Cerita November Writing Challenge

If you're curious about what i was listening too while writing there is a list on Spotify, just search for the book title or GoldNPeachy and you'll find it. If you're fine with all that, let's proceed! The first chapter is set to post mid November 😈

November arrived with its particular quality of light. Daniel noticed it on the first morning of the month — not the cold, which had been building since October, not the earlier dark, which had been creeping forward since September, but the quality of the light itself. November light was different from October light in the way that each month's light was specific if you had learned to attend to it. October was amber, a warm withdrawal. November was something else: a clear, steady grey that made edges precise, that had no warmth in it but had a kind of honesty to it, a light that showed you things accurately.

The very first time I wrote in it, I was 12 years old. October 2nd was the date. ·Every bone in my body has fallen, like even I couldn't stand being inside of me any longer. Can I leave me? October 10th · I'm weak. Not a lot of words needed, I'm just weak. I turn the page over- a lump already forming in my throat. November 21st · I kept quiet. Through every scream, every cry, every tear, every compliant, every one of my words, every fight with myself, I kept quiet.

Dear cherished Reader, I have read all your requests for two or more chapters, which makes me happy because it means that you are enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. Trust me, it’s what I intended for this month because I feel better and want to end the story by the end of the month but the problem is, I’m afraid of when my challenge would kick in again. I’ve had this health challenge for five years now so though I feel better sometimes, it usually doesn’t last long and for which reason the story might extend to April ending.

He says it at the kitchen table on the first morning of November with his coffee and his notebook, making a note about the quality of the light coming through the window, the specific flat clarity of it that does not flatter but does not lie. “November light is truthful,” he says. “Like January,” I say. “Different,” he says. “January is honest about the cold. November is honest about what remains after everything else has fallen away.” He pauses. “January is austerity. November is clarity.” I look at the window at Clinton Hill. “You are going to paint something in November light,” I say. “Already started,” he says. “The commission piece. The empty room. The recording device is on the table.”

Any Similarities To a real person, living or dead, Is purely coincidental and Not intended by Writer ➖➖➖➖➖ °•°•°•°•°•° ➖➖➖➖➖ Started: 20 November 2020 (as draft) Completed : ➖➖➖➖➖ °•°•°•°•°•° ➖➖➖➖➖ UPDATES The update will be twice a month Here's the updated schedule

progressive-markdown_:is(p,blockquote,ul,ol,h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6)]:pr-8"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3 standard-markdown"> November came in with intention. Not gently — the mountain territories didn't do gentle November. The first week brought three days of hard rain that stripped the remaining color from the aspens along the lower road and left the ridge clean and bare against a sky that had made its decision about winter and was implementing it with the methodical efficiency of something that had done this many times and knew the process well. She stood at the east wing window on the first properly cold morning and looked at the stripped ridge and thought: here we are again.

Just so I can write. Who would ever expect my lazy ass can do it? Today marked January 31, 2021 23:24:34 pm I finished the book I started on November 11, 2020 18:17:18 pm, is the very special day I will never ever forget. As I close the first book of Nicholas Wyatt Bane and Zane

SLOANE I spent all of December 27th trying to talk myself out of it. Didn’t work. By four-thirty in the afternoon I’m sitting at my kitchen table, laptop open to a gym campaign that’s due tomorrow, cursor blinking like it’s personally offended I haven’t written a single word. The document is titled “NEW YEAR, NEW YOU – DRAFT.” The only thing on the page is the title and a coffee stain. My phone is face-down beside my mug. I’ve read Jackson’s last text seventeen times.

He even flinched as in complaining like a little kid. "Why can't we touch you? Do you have an STD or what?" vess pouted, but he didn't restrain himself from his composure. "all right students I'll give you ten minutes to write something with feeling with emotions whatever it can be, but it must have to be deep." Declared Mrs Bitwick, it was one of the things she does with her students to test our skills of us.