NaNoWriMo: Day Twenty-one
Word count: 28,426
Today (tonight, this morning) is a huge disappointment, because I wanted to write 3,000 words or more and be asleep by midnight. Still, I am not so disappointed that I won't be able to sleep for five hours, wake up and down a Red Bull (or two) and merrily feast on a bunch of Thanksgiving crap with my awesome relatives. I'm going to do that because I deserve it. Writing a novel isn't the only responsible thing I'm doing this month that requires some effort and discipline. But these thirty days of blog entries are about National Novel Writing Month, the most treacherous, thankless deadline ever.
That begs the question, why do it? But the thing is, it's nigh impossible to answer that kind of question without feeling as though I'm being asked to argue its merits. Which is ridiculous. Obviously, I don't have time to argue. I'm writing a novel.
If you're doing this, you know what it's like to find encouragement in places you never expected, and to find it missing from places where you felt sure it would be. But the awful truth is, you have to write 50,000 words in a month to appreciate the difficulty of writing 50,000 words in a month. The other awful truth is, Thanksgiving is there to get people to buy products from grocery stores. Your family and your friends, on the other hand, exist all year round. Always have. That's more than you can say for your novel. Also, encouragement is for sissies.
Today (tonight, this morning) is a huge disappointment, because I wanted to write 3,000 words or more and be asleep by midnight. Still, I am not so disappointed that I won't be able to sleep for five hours, wake up and down a Red Bull (or two) and merrily feast on a bunch of Thanksgiving crap with my awesome relatives. I'm going to do that because I deserve it. Writing a novel isn't the only responsible thing I'm doing this month that requires some effort and discipline. But these thirty days of blog entries are about National Novel Writing Month, the most treacherous, thankless deadline ever.
That begs the question, why do it? But the thing is, it's nigh impossible to answer that kind of question without feeling as though I'm being asked to argue its merits. Which is ridiculous. Obviously, I don't have time to argue. I'm writing a novel.
If you're doing this, you know what it's like to find encouragement in places you never expected, and to find it missing from places where you felt sure it would be. But the awful truth is, you have to write 50,000 words in a month to appreciate the difficulty of writing 50,000 words in a month. The other awful truth is, Thanksgiving is there to get people to buy products from grocery stores. Your family and your friends, on the other hand, exist all year round. Always have. That's more than you can say for your novel. Also, encouragement is for sissies.