My NaNoWriMo journey


Come tomorrow morning I will have to write 1,700 words everyday for the entirety of November. Why? Because I am doing NaNoWriMo and I am aiming to write a rough draft of a novel in a month. This will be on top of blogging, freelancing and contributing to various websites. I will not stop my usual routine, I will just add to it and I am already thinking I am taking on too much.

I am trying to prepare for the challenge with a character timeline, a lot of research and possibly litres of coffee.

Though I am very scared I will not reach my goal I am also very excited: I am doing this for a cause that is very close to my heart. I am raising money for the Mercury Phoenix Trust that fights AIDS worldwide. Three people I would have loved to meet were killed by the disease and AIDS is still killing people worldwide. In anticipation of my starting my novel tomorrow, I will write about the three people I shall never meet below and I hope you can find a few spare dollars to donate to this cause.

When I was born, my uncle died of AIDS in the same month. I never met him, but my parents always say I would have gotten along with him. I love owls, and so did he. I love books and having a huge collection of them, he also loved books and I now own a small part of his big collection. I am almost blind and have to either wear contacts or glasses at all times, so did he. The truth is, if he were alive now I don’t know if we would be close or not, or if we could have even shared a joke or two. But I like to think that we would get along.

In July of the same year, a man who inspired people around Brazil was also taken away from this world because of AIDS. Cazuza was an amazing artist; he wrote music, he had a memorable voice and he was the typical carioca. I’m not going to talk about how many number one singles he had, or how successful he was. What matters to me is that he was Brazil’s greatest rock stars. What matters to me is that in the early 90s he was openly bisexual and that made all the difference in today’s society. What matters to me is that he didn’t hide his disease, even though it was a terrifying prospect at the time. He was 32 when he died, after fighting AIDS for a couple of years.

And last but not least, I will never get to see Freddie Mercury on stage, and I am sure I am not the only one who mourns this fact. Freddie died in November 1991. I don’t think he needs any proper introduction. Freddie was Freddie.

This is why I am writing 50,000 words in a month. It will be difficult but I’m confident I can do it. If you think this cause is worth your money, please donate here! I will be posting excerpts from my novel here and in my NaNoWriMo account. So stay tuned 🙂

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Photo by Nicole Froio.


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