So it’s November again. Thanksgiving, the Macy’s Parade, the whole nine. It’s also NaNoWriMo time again, folks, and that means I’m ignoring people and a lot of other shit just so I can get down that elusive 1667 words a day.
Well, this year I did better. I actually clocked past the 50K mark on Thanksgiving day, with a belly full of delicious ham and mashed potatoes and stuffing and pie. The story I’m playing with, currently titled “In Stygian Night”, is coming along nicely. I broke the 54K mark on the 25th, and I intend to keep pushing the words every day just like I hadn’t quite made it to 50,000 yet (No, I am NOT counting this blog entry…).
Last year was a motherfucker. What with Pop dying October 23rd, and the ensuing funeral and the organizing and retrieving of his property, and then the grief and the stupidity that followed, I burned out a couple of days in. A week spent with my brothers helped out a lot with the thoughts and feelings portion of things, but the whole NaNo thing was a bust.
The strange part is, I’ve looked back on it more than once with blame and self-loathing in my heart and mind. I keep thinking to myself that this is when the “real writers” suck it the fuck up and keep putting words down on (digital) paper. When they soldier on, no matter the cost to mental health. I know it’s delusional to keep pushing that mantra on myself but it’s always been there, and it’s there every day that I don’t write, whether it’s because I’m sick, or busy with other things, or just don’t devote the time I should to a project because, let’s face it, I’m a lazy fucker. At least there, I’m right. The times when I feel lazy are the times when I should get off (or technically ON) my ass and write, but as established above, I’m a lazy fucker.
It’s taken me some time to come to terms with the way I’ve looked on the things that happened back then, and to see my part in them as being more of a grief reaction and busy schedule than any lack of desire to write. Well, okay, so some days I really just did NOT want to write anything. At all. Possibly ever again.
Camp NaNoWriMo in April, and again in June, helped me achieve a few things, and let me get some more Z262 fun scribbled down. Those events put me in a better frame of mind, and after the June event, I started looking seriously toward this November’s NaNo. I had fun through October writing charts about my characters and the spaceship they’re on, and the crew of that ship and how everyone was connected and then some basic plot work… And then November came and I started running with it.
It worked. It meshed. It came together the way words should. I’m not saying it’s polished, obviously. Hell, I ain’t even saying it doesn’t suck.
But I’m writing again. Sometimes more than others, but the words are coming.