NaNoWriMo is coming up in November. Every year, I set out to write a novel but end up writing so little that the nano part of it is right. You might have heard of microfiction, which is a complete, self-contained story told in 300 words or fewer.
I don’t even write that. Instead, what I write could almost be classified as nanofiction. My stories are so short you’d need a nanometer to measure them. That’s roughly three gold atoms lined up side by side. Which, technically, makes my writing pure gold. Try telling that to a publisher.
Maybe there’s a whole genre of fiction hiding here at the atomic level. I could be writing nanobooks for nanobots. Even microscopic machines shouldn’t be deprived of the joys of reading. I already have a title in mind: The Adventures of Atom—a nuclear fiction. The story chronicles Atom’s turbulent love life. His relationship was already as unstable as uranium. Then a particle accelerator came along and split them up.
If Atom bombs, I could always try my hand at Na-Nu fiction. You know, fan fiction from the show Mork & Mindy.
I bet my girlfriend would enjoy that. I swear she’s an Orkan herself, perhaps even a distant cousin of Mork’s. Of course, if I keep splitting hairs over her extraterrestrial tendencies, she might decide to split, too. Or worse, send me into orbit. At least Atom had a particle accelerator.
Shazbot. I hope she doesn’t read that. Comedy is forbidden on Ork, which could make selling my Na-Nu fiction a little difficult. On the bright side, if I get arrested for writing it, at least I’ll finally have a captive audience.
Come to think of it, I might actually finish a novel for NaNoWriMo this year. A lengthy prison sentence on Ork would give me plenty of time to write. Provided they allow microscopic pencils.