I finished NaNoWriMo successfully, with a half hour to spare.

I'm not proud of what I've done.

Aside from the uninspired writing of most of it - although once again I have three great, polished chapters -- I also have many, many chapters of straightforward prose directly affected by whatever I was reading that day. Also some musings on the genre in general, and a few pages of me cussing myself out. Finally I just started typing about the novel, instead of actually writing the novel.
 
"Here's where she'll discover the secret path. Put in some description of the area, mention how gloomy it is, prolly add some mental argument as she tries to decide if its worth it.

"Peter will try to jolly her along but she's still mad about the romantic overtones he's started using (assuming) so she'll fight his suggestions even when they're good, like this one. They'll argue, again, and not notice the demonbeast that has crept up behind them, interested."

"Describe the demonbeast. Be creative and witty, you bastard."

I got my words in, but they're going to need a lot of work to be presentable.

A lot of work. Maybe a flamethrower.