Entering NaNoWriMo Frenzy

It's NaNoWriMo!  And for the first time, yours truly is participating.  I figured it's a great way to keep my writing motivation up, and you never know.  Maybe after I revise my first 50, 000 words, whatever I write this month will seem like a novel with possible future. 

Add caption

Want to join the frenzy?  Go to http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/sign_up to find out more.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, I'm talking about a month long novel challenge for National Novel Writing Month in November.  Word count is the name of the game.  That is going to be a challenge because I have to revise as I write.  I read once that Ellen Hopkins does heavy revision while writing her verse novels because of the nature of her writing--basically a humongous poem. 
All you poets out there understand...there is so much thought given to word choice, form, and voice when writing poetry.  It's not like writing a plot driven story where the plot overshadows writing style. 

I don't know if I will write a verse novel for NaNoWriMo.  I guess I will see where my writing leads me to...I think I can do it, but if I can get away from revision.  Maybe I'll write and write and write and then transform my 50,000 words into a verse novel.  Maybe I should just consider this a very rough verse novel draft.  Hmmm...I wrote my first novel AWAKE after I had written it as full length play. 
So, far this is what I have today...

The After

Mi abuelito once spoke of the before time. Before man hated one another, sinking their teeth in greed, a blood lust for consumption, self-gratification. Of course, he did not live in the before time. He only knew from his own great-great uncle’s memoir, a Mexicano who rode in the days of the legendary Pancho Villa. His name was Sixto Pasqual.

Days of freedom coursing through horse veins, merging with man-blood, creating myth, creating minotaurs waving banners of revolution, progress for the mestizoes, the mixed bloods of border towns between Mexico and the US. Mesquite trees twisting as smoke snakes up to sky, blue, clear, good for dreams, for visions of what could be, heaven beyond the clouds. A better day for Sixto's sons, daughters, all future Pascuals outnumbered only be the stars of a quiet brush country night, coyotes singing under a moon, a river holding rhythm.

But my abuelito only lived through the horror. When man turned monster. Turned.

What Would It Look Like as a Verse Novel?

Mi abuelito once spoke of the Before Time.
Before man hated one another, sinking their teeth
in greed, a blood lust for consumption, self-gratification.

Of course, he did not live in the Before Time.
 
He only knew from his own great-great uncle’s memoir,
a Mexicano who rode in the days of the legendary Pancho Villa.
His name was Sixto Pasqual.

Days of freedom coursing through horse veins, merging
with man-blood, creating myth, creating minotaurs
waving banners of revolution, progress for the mestizoes,
the mixed bloods of border towns between Mexico and the US.

Mesquite trees twisting as smoke snakes up to sky, blue, clear,
good for dreams, for visions of what could be, heaven
beyond the clouds.

A better day for Sixto's sons, daughters, all future Pascuals
outnumbered only be the stars of a quiet brush country night, coyotes
singing under a moon, a river holding rhythm.

But my abuelito only lived through the horror.

When man turned monster.

Turned.


Verse Novel it is then...I completely love Verse Novels!  Writing in verse feels like home to me.