NaNoWriMo is HERE!!

It’s National Novel Writing Month!! (click link for more info)

I’ve wanted to try my hand at writing a novel since I heard about NaNoWriMo last year, but it already ended when I found out about it. I’m really more of a short story sort of person, but what the heck, right? After all, with NaNoWriMo, it’s quantity, not quality, that counts. 50,000 words by midnight, Nov 30 – craaaaaazy!!

But this month I’ll be having exams, and then after exams, I’m leaving for a holiday.. that’s the whole month gone already!! So how how how?? To do it or not?? My exams don’t finish till 14th, so it’ll only leave me with half a month to complete the challenge!

Will focus for today’s exam first.. and since next exam not in 11 days (haha i’m so lucky!), I can probably attempt to write a novel in between studying. I’m so excited!!

WATCH THIS SPACE!! (talking to nearly non-existent audience, wtf)

Story: Survival

A few years ago, I attended a creative writing workshop. During that time, I produced writings that made me cringe at the memory, and writings that weren’t perfect but still made me beam a little with pride. At one of the workshop sessions, the lecturer told us about how she had two pet frogs and a pet cat. One day, her daughter found out that one of the frogs was missing and blamed it on the cat. The lecturer later found from the surviving frog’s excretions that it had eaten the other frog. A few days later, her cat ate the frog. The lecturer then asked every one of us to write a story based on that information. Most people wrote from the owner’s perspective or from the cannibalistic frog’s perspective. I chose a different perspective. This is what I wrote, with a few minor tweaks:

I’ve been watching him, that odd little bulbous thing. He was fat and slimy, although he hasn’t always been like this. He used to be small and round, with a poor excuse for a tail. He was always swimming in his little bowl, wriggling here and there. He looked so slippery and wet, disgusting! I always hated wet things. One day, he grew arms and legs. Mum put a lid over his bowl, to stop him from escaping, I suppose. Nothing interesting really happened with the frog since then, not until Mum decided the ugly little thing should have a companion. Oh! What a mistake it was! Mum always thinks she knows what’s best for everyone, when she has no clue at all as to what goes on in our minds.

Another ugly little thing was put into the bowl. The frog seemed to be happy to have a new friend. His beady eyes almost popped out from his eye sockets. Stupid little thing! Doesn’t he know that a new frog meant sharing his food? Oh well, I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough. I’m never wrong about these things. I know how his puny little brain works. I’ve been watching him, you see.

Life in the glass bowl went on peacefully. At first, the frog seemed to enjoy the company. That was until he realized that although food came into his bowl, he was eating less than before. The new frog practically gobbled up anything she could. She was getting bigger and stronger, while he got weaker and weaker. I was watching him, waiting for him to strike. I watched as his bulbous eyes turned dark, and his wide mouth opened. The new frog was swallowed whole, croaking helplessly as she struggled to escape. It was to no avail, of course. Hunger, greed and insanity had taken control over the frog’s mind. I watched as the frog finished his meal with a burp of satisfaction, fascinated by this turn of events. No one could blame the frog – he was hungry. It’s called survival. I’m sure the frog understands this as well as I do. However, I was wrong. For the next few days, he moped and moped, grieving over his murderous deed. How silly! All he did was devour the only companion he ever had. At least now he could have all the food to himself. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

One day, Mum accidentally broke the frog’s bowl while cleaning it. The frog, still miserable over the loss of his friend, was transferred to a smaller bowl. I watched the little creature wallowing in misery. Perhaps I could help lessen the pain. Yes, I shall be a good Samaritan, and help make his sorrows disappear. I pounced onto the bowl, and pushed the lid aside with one paw. “I’m going to help you, little frog,” I told him as I reached into the bowl, my claws stretched out. “I’m going to lessen your pain.” I grabbed the frog, all wet and slimy, and popped him into my mouth. He slid down my throat easily. Must be all that swimming in the water. He didn’t taste too bad, actually. Hey, why are you staring at me? I helped make his sorrows disappear, didn’t I? Anyway, I was hungry. Haven’t you heard of survival?

What do you think of the story? When I read this story aloud in class, some of my fellow classmates were surprised. They thought I was writing from the daughter’s perspective, when I was really writing from the cat’s. What about you? Did you guess correctly??