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A while back, I made a goal to finish writing a book by the time I'm sixteen. I now suppose that if I desire to meet that goal, I should start now. Does anyone have any advice

I won't go into the specifics of the book's plot, as this being a public post on the internet could easily result in it being stolen. However, here are the basics. It is going to be of the genre, Horror, and titled Hollow Whistle. I have already started this project with it's word count at about 6,000 words. But, I will probably delete the latter 4,000 of them, as the chapters are both too poor in writing and too short to be acceptable. The first 2,000 words however are of the proper quality.

I have heard that the average book is around 78,000 words, and if this is indeed the case, about how many pages is that? Also, I particularly have trouble stretching things out to the proper level. Does anyone have any tips on that?

I suggest you set aside a bit of "work time". Just tell yourself, I will only work on my book between these hours, report those hours to everyone else to ensure quiet time, and get to work. Don't push yourself too hard to make that sweet 16 deadline though. If you do, you'll end up with a forced novel that you hate. Good luck!

Write.
Don't worry about length or your sixteenth birthday or anything else.
Just write. And keep writing.
Eventually you will have a novel.
And another. And another. And another.
And then around number four or five, you will begin to find your way.
Just write.

I agree with Cheryl, just start writing things down-anything. Then, eventually go back over it and pick out your favorite bits and expand on those. Then write your next thought, and repeat the steps. Most importantly-have fun!

Write what you know and don't kill yourself over perfection. Know your characters and don't stress over the completion. You can't force something to be finished.

Just start writing a draft, It will be from your heart and than you will feel the muse of inspiration, which helps you to write a really wonderful novel!

Read lots of books and write a ton. Practice and then practice some more. Create a style that you like in how you tell your story.

If you can't sit down and write then build with scenes on flashcards and build the story line that way.

In the end, EDIT. Pay someone to look at your work or have critical friends look at your work.

Don't force yourself. Write whenever you feel inspired because that's the time where you can come up a best novel.

Read about what you're writing. Find books about the subject. Use your life experience to help you craft your plot. Throw out anything that takes the reader off the plotline. Don't force it. Do not schedule your writing time. If you get an idea, write it down. In fact I would suggest you keep a pen and pad with you at all times. Use music to relax your mind. Find a quiet place to work. Don't let your friends monopolize your time. Find the center of the story and go with it. Storyboard if you have to, but I find that sitting in a quiet place and running a difficult section through my mind (sort of like a private movie) will smooth out the rough edges. Edit using books designed for it (you can find them in any school bookstore). Run the plot past your English teacher. Then, when you are happy with it, try submitting it to a reputable agent first.
If after a while you don't like the rejection letters you are getting, self-publish.

Do you have time for community education classes? I completed an 8-lesson writing class at night, chaired by a local novelist, and loved it. The instant feedback was rewarding and even when it wasn’t flattering, it gave me fresh ideas. Also, go to book launches and writing festivals to gain insight into what’s happening now.

Another alternative I would suggest is reading books on the subject. Two authors I admire have published books on the art of writing. They are “On Writing, A Memoir Of The Craft” by Stephen King and “The Maeve Binchy Writers’ Club” by Maeve Binchy. I found these books offered a glimpse into the lives of two very different wordsmiths and contained interesting advice and tips. Both formats are friendly and easy-to-read.

Also, with your finished product (and I know you will do it!) never underestimate the importance of good presentation. A publisher will not even pull your work out of a slush pile if it’s not well set out, spaced right, legible font, plain paper, unstapled, paginated, etc. Let your words shine so the reader is drawn into the manuscript and your plot is slowly revealed!

PS: 78,000 words equal approx 300 pages and an average 400-page book is about 104,000 words.
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I have already started this project with it's word count at about 6,000 words. But, I will probably delete the latter 4,000 of them, as the chapters are both too poor in writing and too short to be acceptable. The first 2,000 words however are of the proper quality.

Write first. Edit later.

I'm also writing a book, but I'm not thinking about 'words'.

Just write, scribble and write some more. Refer back to your notes from the start time to time. Remember-If the word count is not up to scratch, then proofread it, add some more words.

There's a difference between the draft and the proofread plus the final copy. Yea, what I'm saying is write.

Tip: If you don't think it's enough, read it again and try to explain in depth. Describe. Imagine. Use the senses if possible.

Good luck!
Ail.

Here is an excerpt:

The day was rainy. Not a downpour, but not just a drizzle either. The traditional fresh but musty smell of rising water in the nearby river filled the air, and trees swayed in the wind, appearing to dance in the life giving precipitaion, flaunting their lush vibrancy before the season stole from them their greenery. The rain pittering on the roof of the car in a rythym without rythym, their divinly choreographed dance complimented by steady rush of freeway traffic and an occasional rumble of distant thunder.
"I have to go to the bathroom." whined 7 year old Don, restslessly squirming in the car seat. "Its' really bad!" This was followed by a distant rumble.
"Damn it Don, I asked you if you had to go before we left!" replied his older sister, Linda, holding the wheel in an odd deathgrip so not to damage her nails.
"I didn't have to go then! It just popped up!" Don answered. A few moments of silence passed, and when no answer was apparent, the young boy held his crotch and shuddered while moaning.
"Don, you're going to have to hold it! I'm going to be late getting you two to school as it is! Let alone myself!"
Don bit his lip and squirmed a bit more, looking out the car window but realizing the raindrops running down the pane only made it worse. The car hit a bump, and with a yelp, Don's hand flew to his crotch again.
Don's ten year old brother, Benny, let out a small outcry of surprise at the bump, causing Don to look in his direction. Benny was engrossed in his hand-held game, the light of which highlited the sweat gleaming upon his red hair.
"Benny?" Don ventured, his vocal inflections indicating he was about to make a request. Benny grunted in acknowledgement, rolling his eyes at what was coming."Can I have a turn?"
"Don!" Benny paused for a moment, furiously jamming the control pad with an unconciously exaggerated grimace."No! I'm in the middle of a boss fight
Don attempted his pitiful face and said "I'll beat the boss for you. Please!"
Benny replied "I want to do it myself Don. Besides, you'd get killed insantly!"
Don's face took on an immature look of admonishment"Would not!"
Benny rolled his eyes again "Ok. What is Sluggy's weak point?" Benny turned the screen toward Don so he could see the boss in question. It was (you guessed it) a large slug with a heart in the center.
"His...uhhhhh..." Don was suddenly reminded that he had to urinate when the car hit another bump. "uhg!" He moaned. After a few quick breaths he recomposed himself. "His...penis?"
"No Don" Benny said.
"Please Benny. Please let me play." Don waited a few moments, and when Benny showed no sign of replying, continued " If you let me play it'll distract me so I won't have to go to the bathroom anymore. Pleeeease! Behhhhhhhh-neeeeeeeeeeee!
"Just give him the f****g game Benny!" Linda shouted, which was followed by another rumble of thunder.
Benny looked up for the first time "But-". The character in the game was knocked into a bottomless pit. Benny threw his head against the car seat and half sighed, half groaned in frustration." Crud! I was so close that time too! Ahhhhhg!" Benny transferred the device to his right hand and shoved straight into Don's gut.
Don, who was stretching himeslf in attempt to look over the passenger seat, did not feel the intended pain due to his straining of his abdominal muscles and only uttered a reflexive "oof! Thanks Benny!"
Although Linda saw what was attempted, she said nothing. Only sighing and rolling her eyes in pubic resentment of her present situation. Benny, scowling, peered out the rain splattered window and raked the soft upholstery with his fingers. Attempting to ignore his brother's cries of delight. He focused on the rain and the whistling gales outside the car, but doing so was somehow more unsettling.
The week had started like this of course. Benny had been forced to accompany his mother on her sunday grocery outing. She had needed someone to push a second cart, as she had an unusually large list that week. She said that Don was to young and small to be pushing the cart around(even though he often played shopping, during which he would push around the wheeled chair while loading it with whatever he could get his hands on. One of the members of the household would be forced to act as the clerk, lest Don be thrown into a crying fit.) and that she didn't want to wake Linda up because she had a "long and hard" first week back at school. More likely she didn't dare incur Linda's wrath of not letting her sleep in.
The funny thing is, if Don's over excitement with his own video games game had not awoken Benny, Benny would have not went downstairs for breakfast, and never would have been scouted by his mother for cart duty. "Damn it Don!" his sister had said. Benny felt that summed it all up quite nicely.
And, as it was, this is what was on Benny's mind for the entire outing. Listening to the maddening beat of the cart wheels upon the tiled floor, Benny had mulled over his frustration with Don.
"Damn it." K-thwok K-thwok. "Why is it that everything Don does..." K-thwok K-thwok "Makes stuff like this happen to me?" K-thwok K-thwok "I hate you Don" K-thwok K-thwok "I hate you, and hate being the middle child." K-thwok K-thwok. "Its just like that book we had in class said." K-thwok K-thwok "being the middle child stinks" K-thwok K-thwok. "I wish Don would just..."
His mother suddenly spoke, interrupting Benny's silent rant,"Well would you look at that, I guess we won't be needing that second cart after all.
Benny had let out a quickly stifled cry of outrage, earning him a sharp look from his mother. "I sneezed." Benny said. His mother accepted this without question.
"Damn it!" Benny silently screamed again. "I wish Don would just go away! He always does this to me. Mom didn't even need me to come out here." He let out a low growl which his mother did not hear. "I wish Don would just die!"
Benny of course did not mean this. Despite his near constant agitation with his baby brother, he loved him. It wouldn't have been the first time the immature emotions of a resentful brother had produced such a consideration.
The rain had steadily increased in inensity, seeming to match the degree of festering anger Benny felt through his recollection.
"I hate you Don" he thought, "I hate you!" Benny had then threw his arm against the wall in anger. However, instead of hitting hard plaster, he felt his hand crash through a blender, the glass peircing his knuckles. His mother whirled and gasped when she saw what Benny had done. She was speechless for a few moments. When realization hit, her face contorted into an angry grimace and she slapped Benny across the face. "I was going to get you a new game for being such a big help" apparently believeing that he had been, "but now I'm going to have to spend the money on that blender!" Benny had been forced to spend the rest of the day in his room. When questioned on why he had done such a thing, Benny meakly answered that he was playing a game, and that he had not seen the blender.
Another bump in the road jarred Benny from his emoting. Strangely, Don did not seem to notice it.

For some reason, I'm finding it difficult to as good as this lately. I'm hoping it is just writers block and not a regression and/or brain damage.

Very realistic, Sophius.

I’ve been in a car situation like that! And what an uncaring mother. My only comment would be, who is the protagonist? Perhaps the story could revolve around one person’s point-of-view to focus the action.

Don’t worry, you don't have brain damage. Keep writing!

Sophius wrote:
I won't go into the specifics of the book's plot, as this being a public post on the internet could easily result in it being stolen.

Get over yourself, no one will steal it here

I wrote one myself. But it was quite easy for me, because I had a great motivation and I sincerely enjoyed to get the stuff, which bothered me for all my life, finally out of me.

The father of my girlfriend told me a very wise thing:

"There are only two kinds of people who write. Ones that have something to tell and ones who have to tell something".

(Editor's note - lol, it sounds better in English than in my native language )

Be the one who has something to tell and it will work just fine.