Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Gilmore Girls. Or Star Trek.
So, story-time before we even get to the regular story: every year since 2013, I've done NaNoWriMo. Whether or not I've won every year is another story altogether, but I've enjoyed doing it immensely. It's pushed me to be a better author who can put out both quality and quantity, which are almost equally important. So, I thought, "Okay, NaNoWriMo's coming up once again in November, and I probably will be so stressed-out from my job and NaNoWriMo that I won't be able to write much fanfiction for the month of November."
But then I had another thought: "Rory would totally do NaNoWriMo. She'd do Chilton and Friday night visits and go to Luke's Diner and have Jess/Dean frustration and do NaNoWriMo at the same time, because she's Rory Gilmore. Duh." (For those who don't know, NaNoWriMo is really National Novel Writing Month: every November, some people who really like to be personally challenged and stressed-out in the month of November attempt to write 50,000 words of a novel. It's fun. And sigh-inducing. Groan-inducing, too. Oddly satisfying when you actually finish it.)
So this is a GG story I'm writing in September/October. It's gonna be (wait for it, this is the clever part, LOL) in 30 chapters so I post one chapter on every day of November, and each chapter is gonna be 1,667 words long (1,667 x 30 = 50,010, or the rate at which you have to write to finish NaNoWriMo before November is up. These 1,667 words chapters will include author's notes, or else I think author's notes accumulated over 30 chapters will add an extra 1K words to my word count. Also, I solemnly swear that none of my other author's notes are gonna be this long. :P )
So as I write my own personal NaNoWriMo (fingers crossed, LOL), I will post a chapter of this each day of November and between myself and Rory, you will find enough solidarity and empathy to keep you going in your own personal pursuit of a NaNoWriMo win. (If you're doing NaNoWriMo, of course.)
This takes place in November 2002; why that year? Well, it's the year that Rory and Jess get along (together) and I chose it for three reasons: Rory's still in high school; Jess wrote a novel in later seasons, so what's gonna stop him from a challenge in novel-writing; and lastly, I'm a sucker for Rory/Jess. I'm a sucker for any of Rory and her boyfriends, but I've got a soft spot for Jess Mariano. :)
(Welcome to the story. Excuse the fact that one-third of this chapter is an author's note. Y'all good. Story's starting. LOL.)
November 1st, 2002
"Rory! We gotta go now! If we don't, Luke's going to be out of those chocolate-glazed doughnuts and we'll be stuck with those stupid jelly doughnuts," Lorelai called from the kitchen. The sound of the coffeemaker chugging complied with her slamming folders from the Inn onto the kitchen table in pre-caffeine frustration.
Rory danced around in her tights, trying in vain to pull them on. It was a cold November morning; all the reminders of last night's mad partying mocked her with chuckling, taunting tones as she groaned. "I'm trying. Ugh. What did jelly doughnuts ever do to you, anyway? They don't deserve to be so abused."
"I have an abhorrence to anything with the slightest promise of fruit. I am a candy monster whose diet consists mainly and only of sugar, chocolate, high fructose corn syrup, and caramel," Lorelai declared.
On the kitchen table were the remains of their late-night binging. There'd been a Halloween party that took up the entire main square last night; Lorelai and Rory, dressed as Thelma and Louise, snuck Lane in, who was dressed as a ghost ("I went to bed at eight. Which is weird. My mom will definitely suspect that I'm out here. What if she checks my bed? What if she finds out I'm lying? Do you know how much trouble I'd be in? Spirits, monsters, ghosts, refined sugar?" Lane gestured to the Kim house. "As you can see, no lights, no decorations, a sign on the door with a cross on it to ward away heathens. If it wasn't the house of Mrs. Kim, it would've been TP-ed by now.") Booths lined the streets; candy was distributed in high-blood-sugar-inducing amounts. Kirk dressed up as a scarecrow and Taylor was the Wizard of Oz. It was a hilariously memorable night.
Rory felt like she was nursing a sugary hangover. In true Gilmore fashion, she and her mother had collected a container of candy that weighed the same amount as a small child, and, once they got home, gave themselves loose rein. Half the stupid container was gone, and everywhere, like the crumbs of Hansel and Gretel, candy wrappers littered their floors. Trails of these wound around to their bedrooms where they succumbed to the sugar in their veins as they passed out in sugar comas.
"I don't want to eat another piece of candy for the rest of my life," Rory groaned, finally tugging up the tights leg. She fell into her swivel chair and looked longingly at the laptop on her desk. She'd gotten it from her grandparents (amidst several protests and witty comments from her mother, who, ultimately, let her keep it). She used it mostly for school projects. She needed to pack it, in fact; Paris Geller couldn't care less about sugar hangovers from Halloween escapades; she would probably be the only person not groaning from last night at the next Franklin staff meeting. Which was today.
Rory so did not want to move from her spot. "Ugh, I don't feel like moving. I don't feel like eating sugary doughnuts 'cause right now, eating so much candy like we did last night is pretty high on my list of bad life choices. I don't feel like going to school and listening to Paris rant about the stupid paper. I don't feel like going to Friday night dinner and having to retell the horribly gruesome details of our Halloween night to Grandma and Grandpa. I just want to lie on my bed and nap forever."
"Gotta stop ya right there, kid. You're sounding more like Lorelai Gilmore than Rory Gilmore," Lorelai said, stepping into the doorway while she yanked on her coat. "Which is understandable, seeing as you shared half the DNA and two-thirds of the name of that remarkable woman, Lorelai Gilmore. But, sorry, kid. You gotta buckle up and face the day and do it with a gritted-teeth smile while your body fights through your agony."
"I feel awful," Rory sulked.
"Oh-ho, wait until you can drink, kid. You don't know mornings after yet. This is just a mere taste; this is like a vaccine-induced disease rather than the fully contracted version. This isn't anything," Lorelai gloated.
"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better. Quick, talk about something that will distract me from my stomach," Rory groaned.
"Wow, you're really taking this bad. I thought being exposed to huge sittings of junk food over the years would've strengthened your stomach's tolerance. I blame myself. I'm a horrible mother. Even old witches can fatten little children on candy better than I can," Lorelai tsked.
"Mom, seriously, can you change the subject to anything else in the world besides candy? I can reassure you there are at least a million subjects that aren't candy-related," Rory groaned.
"Wow, a big promise there, kid. Um, okay, let's see." Lorelai played with the leather driving gloves in her hands as she thought. "Um, okay. Oh! You were trying to tell me about something you were going to do today, something about writing that wasn't for the Franklin. What was that?"
Here Rory groaned heavily in remembrance. Lorelai, startled, said, "Hey, I didn't even mention candy!"
"No, NaNoWriMo. That starts today. I haven't written a single word. I'm going to be behind on the first day!"
Lorelai stared at her only daughter, fully mystified. "Okay, I missed something or other, starting with what does 'NaNoWriMo' mean? Is it a real word? Can I drop it casually into everyday conversation? Or is it some kind of sci-fi word I wouldn't get 'cause we're more classic Hollywood fans than Star Trek nerds?"
Rory sat up in her swivel chair. She gazed longingly once more at her laptop as she carefully packed it into her school backpack. "NaNoWriMo is something I found on the Internet," she began.
"Oh, is it something dirty?" Lorelai wondered.
Rory evidently didn't hear her. "It stands for National Novel Writing Month. I was gonna do it. I was gonna settle down and write a thousand, six-hundred-and-sixty-seven words a day and have a novel at the end of November. But now it's November, and I've got school and the Franklin and Grandpa and Grandma's and homework and there goes the entire day. There's no point where I can write anything for a novel today, and I'll be behind from the get-go. I'll never be able to finish it."
Lorelai put a hand at her daughter's shoulder. "'Kay, first of all, sounds pretty demanding. But hey, kid, one missed day does not mean that you're going to lose from the get-go. Missing the first three seconds of a race doesn't mean you're not going to cross the finish-line."
Rory gave her a look. "Did you just make a sports reference?"
Lorelai shrugged. "I know; I didn't think myself capable either." She rubbed Rory's shoulder. "What I mean is that you're going to catch up. You'll be fine. Okay?"
Rory breathed in, and nodded. "Okay."
"That's my girl." Lorelai glanced at her watch. "Okay, we gotta go! Or no doughnuts!"
"I'm good without the doughnuts," Rory said, grabbing her bag.
Lorelai dramatically gasped. "Maybe you aren't my daughter. Good without doughnuts, the idea. . ."
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Review?
