NaNo, you rat bastard,
What happened to our fifty-thousand-word commitment?
I sit at my computer waiting for you to show up. You’re never there for me when I need you.
The blinking cursor and worn backspace key is a constant reminder of your cruel indifference.
But you seem to have all the time in the world for your other admirers. How do you think it makes me feel when I see other wrimos’ word counts soar and mine stagnate?
And don’t tell me that I’m just being paranoid, or that I have a bad case of word count envy. It’s more than that.
The thrill is gone.
I used to look forward to our little trysts at the word processor, but lately I’ve come to dread them.
There was a time we couldn’t keep our hands off the keyboard. I used to daydream about you, but now thoughts of you are only passing frustrations.
The truth is, you’ve changed. You’re not the same Nano I fell in love with. Over the course of these last few weeks, you’ve turned into an egomaniac, a needy, nagging glutton for attention.
Your single-minded pursuit of more words borders on hysteria.
I have no more words to give. I’m a busy woman with a pile of real work to finish, a dog to walk, dishes to clean, leaves to rake, closets to color-coordinate, and friends who miss me.
In fact, I’ve been having some heart-to-hearts with my old pal, Inner Critic. I’ve been rehashing our story through fresh eyes, and I’m embarrassed to realize how foolish I’ve been.
Our story had once seemed so important, so meaningful. But now I see the wild-plot-bunny chases as they really were: a waste of time.
The characters we developed are shallow, flimsy things who strut about and run their mouths without purpose, commonsense, or a firm grasp of the English language.
The world we created for ourselves is just as nonsensical; its rules and rituals wouldn’t hold up if they were tapped with a feather.
The truth is, our story was doomed from the start. We built it on a misshapen plot structure that’s crumbling underfoot.
I can’t believe we ever thought we could make it to “The End.” I can’t believe I wasted hours of my time and 33,340 words on you.
It’s over, Nano. Don’t bother looking for me on the forums, I won’t be there.
No Longer Yours,
P.S. I used to think your head ware was cute and quirky. But now? It’s just pathetic. I mean, who wears a Viking helmet every day?
Is it truly over between Abigail and Nano? Or will love triumph in the end? Tune in next time for the final letter.