I did it. I started writing (or continued) my YA novel through National Novel Writing Month. 

I started at 11am. 

I finished at 12:10pm. 

I wrote 1544 words. 

Here’s an except:

Normal 0 0 1 123 702 5 1 862 11.0 0 0 0

            “Did we kiss?” I asked.

            “We did.” He said.

            “You kissed me.” I stated.

            “You kissed me back,” He said.

“I wanted you to kiss me,”

“I wanted to kiss you,” He said. The lyrics blared: This is real, so take a chance. And don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back. He wanted to kiss me. He was right, I did kiss him back. I wanted to. I looked out the window again. The rows of wheat stood up to the wind, watched thousands of vehicles race past them. They were stuck. Unable to jump on a bus and escape. I didn’t really want to join the wheat. I was on the bus. The bus was moving forward. Maybe I was escaping, and even though I wasn’t sure from what, I felt it, strongly in my heart, that I didn’t want to look back. Not back. Not yet.

“I’m glad we got that settled then,” I said. I put my earphones back on and let my eyes carry me into sleep.