For the first time, I've decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo). I've known about it—and thought about it—for the last eight years. Writing 50,000 words in a month is nuts, right? You gotta break it down to 1,667 words per day, and even that seems like an awful lot. And it is. A lot. So, why now? Why this year?
The last three years, especially, have been hard for me. My already declining health took a bad turn (a plummet really) in 2015. Most days, it's hard enough to function let alone write. I'm sick, but I don't want sickness to be the reason I don't finish my book. I've been working on a sequel to A Vampire's Tale pretty much since I published it last year. Before deciding to do nanowrimo, I had written 20,000 words—and it had taken me a year and a half. It's hard enough to sell books as a new author, and one surefire way to keep sales up is to keep publishing books. Which is pretty hard to do if you're not writing. Or, if you're writing—sometimes—and your word count amounts to less than 1,000 words per week.
I keep planning to finish my novel, but I keep pushing my deadline out. Before summer. When the kids go back to school. This fall. And so on. Something always seems to be in the way—other projects, poor health, life. When am I going to write my novel if I don't sit down (actually lie down because I get nauseated if I sit to write) and write it? Enter nanowrimo. I may reach 50,000 words by November 30, and I may not. But I'm fine with either possibility. The excitement surrounding this month has me pumped and motivated to write. And, during week one, I wrote my target of 6,500 words. That's progress.
I can't say it's been an easy week. And I can't guarantee I'll hit my target next week. But I'm doing instead of hoping, and it feels good. Even when I don't.