BY KATE FUEYO, Tampa Preparatory

November is winding down. Publix is holding clearance sales on gravy and
cranberry Jello, the Black Friday shoppers have left their impromptu camps with new
iPad five-bazillions, and--well, most malls have had their Christmas decorations up
since Halloween, but now we can properly sip our Starbucks peppermint lattes without
the guilt. Frankly, as the last weeks of my literary journey tick away, I'm looking forward
to getting a full night's sleep in the near future. My wrists are cramping from constant
typing and my literary brain-muscle (which I'm sure there's a more sophisticated term
for) is sore from overuse. It's been a long, long month of constant slogging at the story, so I
should be happy at December's chilly arrival, right?

Wrong.

There's something about devoting your life to a totally pointless endeavor that
sucks you in. For the past three weeks, my novel has been my life. I've slaved over it,
lost sleep, and spent hours thinking of the perfect twist. Thea, my protagonist, has
become an extension of my right arm, and her friends embedded in my subconscious.
Leaving them behind when December rolled around is going to be extremely difficult.

I know that I won't crack the 50,000 word goal at this point. I accepted it sometime around two weeks ago, when I had to stop an epic one-hour writing binge to craft a thesis about the spread of disease on the Silk Roads from 1 to 1400 CE. But the satisfaction will still be there when the clock hits midnight on the thirtieth -- the thought that, all homework and frustrations aside, I at least tried. And maybe that's the best anyone can say, really, because even with those who finished, how many get sent to publishing houses? And even then, how many get rejected?

In short, the last three weeks have introduced me to the schedule of a writer.
Every high, low, and sideways is preparing me for the lifestyle I want to live. If I look at
November this way, instead of a grand way of reaching a goal, I feel much better about
it all.

I can't pretend it's not frustrating, though.

Maybe adding the dragon was a bad idea.