When I hit my 50K I knew I wasn't anywhere near the end of the 'book' yet. I had plotted out the remaining chapters, worried about their contents and whether it would be an exciting read, scratched a subplot altogether and gave a character I pegged as bad, devious and in the first round actually pure evil a new role as suddenly-nice-guy. Don't know how that happened.
I also gave myself all of the rest of the week to complete the story in its draft version. Because... there were deadlines looming (one translation by the end of November, another by the end of December and a third by the end of... take a wild guess: January!). Still, I'd managed to come this far and I knew I wouldn't be able to start editing, polishing or rewriting anything until at least March, so I needed to finish my story. And I did.
November 18, day 18 of the NaNoWriMo challenge, I shut down my netbook with a feeling of satisfaction mingled with pride. I had done it. I had officially written something in less than three weeks' time that could qualify as a novel. Yes, it still needed a lot of revisions - but I've learnt that all books do. No one sits down to write 'chapter one', types through to the very end, types 'the end' and has a perfectly publishable novel. No one.
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