I’ll admit, writing in nanowrimo was extreme. Yet now I can’t get the motivation to push my butt from the couch to the computer. Yes I know it’s the holidays, but that can’t be the excuse. It’s like I’ve got this funk where I just want to chill. I could argue that it’s my body recovering, but I sense that’s just an excuse.
Blogging is the first step. Pushing myself to put more words down. Next, I have to put in the time. Even if it’s sitting in front of the computer screen for an hour with noting happening. I have to do it. Escape the lazy writing funk.
Okay, I admit it. I really wanted to see that 50,ooo word mark. Even though I knew that it was the novel that was more important. I need to finish. And I did. I didn’t have much of a social life and my blogging dropped to almost zero, but I have achieved something I didn’t think possible: a whole novel (well most of it) in one month.
Typically, this process takes about six months and has lots of ups and downs. Most of these are spurred on my my inner editor. It’s nice to know that I can shut that guy up. Even if it’s only in November during a contest.
You know you’re hooked on something when even a debilitating sickness brings you guilt. The National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) has been so productive and fun that I look forward to it every night after work. I’ve learned that my typical pace, prior to NaNoWriMo was about 800 words. This is when my body felt tired and wanted to quit.
That won’t cut it for 50,000 words in a month. Therefore the first couple of weeks I fell behind. Since then, I’ve discovered that I can easily power out 2000 to 2400 words each nightly session. That is until the nasty stomach flu took hold of me. It was Monday night and I can still recall the conversation I had in my head. “I’ll just write 800 words. Maybe 400 words. I should lie down before I fall down.”
I missed a day. And I regret it even now. I’ve made up the difference in word count. It was the lost experience that irks me. The fact that a virus robbed me of another night of writing.
Honestly, I think my friends think I’ve moved to a shack in Idaho and am banging away at an old typewriter. Truth is, to make the NaNoWriMo thing work, and hold down a job, and spend some time with the kids, I have to cut corners. That means my social life has dwindled to a pilot light.
I don’t even want to talk (or tweet) about my writing. I feel like that’s wasted time. I just want to write, and then sleep. Even this blog post feels like cheating. I could rack up a few more words. (I’m about 400 shy of my goal today.)
However, my guilt over not posting finally drove me back here. If nothing else, perhaps there are a few other writers out there toiling through the same issues as I am. We can commiserate in unison as we head back to our manuscripts and commence yet another round of typing.
This is my first stint with National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), but I must say I’m loving the process. The thought of missing my schedule kicks me in the butt and gets me typing. I’m down on blogging, but I think that’s the point.
The best part is that the novel, one I’ve tried all the past year to write, is coming together. Each scene flows into the next effortlessly. It is hard to turn off that inner editor, but it’s worth it. I’ve stopped looking over previous pages. It’s all be hammered out in revision. Heck, I’ve taken an existing manuscript and switched tenses and POVs. I know that a draft is just that. Nothing’s sacred. So why not get it done quickly and move on to revising.