Life during NaNoWriMo - One Week Down (and a bit)
It’s been eight days so far since things kicked off, and I have to admit, I am now, finally, starting to go a little bit batty. After my first massive push landing me a total of over 28,000 words so far, I’m starting to flag and hit some really bad lows.
The first couple of days I was doing really, really well. I got a little bit disconnected from the world, and seeing real people at work and on the train was a little jarring and strange. But after the initial existential angst things settled down and my word count soared before I knew what was going on. It sort of run away from me. Ok, yes, I am being a little devious and I have autocorrect separating my contractions (it’s amazing how the nots and the is’es add up!), but I seem to manage no less than 1,000 words per sitting which is a really nice thing. The storyline, well, it’s gone a little differently to I had expected - it’s taken me 25,000 words to get to where I wanted to be in 10,000, which is really really annoying me. Either, on editing, I’m going to have to be really quite brutal, or else it’s going to end up as a part 1 and part 2 type thing (part 1 setting things up, part 2 where all the stuff I intended happens). I’m also starting to worry my novel is too much doom and gloom. 28,000 words and not a single good thing has happened. I don’t want to throw in a ‘pat the dog’ moment just for the hell of it, but I’m fairly certain that no one is ever going to be able to get through it all without feeling like they want to bash in their head with a strategically placed brick wall.
But my high word count is kinda scaring me. I expected it to take a lot, lot longer to get to this point. I expected to be stopping every ten minutes to angst about what the hell is happening, but I’m not. I’m being so good and not going back and reviewing (ok, I did ONCE) and I’ve taken off the squiggly red and green lines that Microscum Word insists on putting below my mistakes, which makes me neurotic and borderline obsessive-compulsive.
Now, after eight days of slapping words down, living in the asylum in my mind, I think I’m slowly starting to crack up myself. I felt so low today I just laid in my bed for 20 minutes not doing anything. I’m not sure if this sudden onset of blues has anything to do with not having Pippin around anymore (writing on Tuesday, although productive, was agonising. The house is so quiet, and the thought of spending all week next week alone, budgie-less is worse. I’m actually going over to a friend’s place on Saturday to look at getting a new budgie from them. I know it’s sudden, and I know Pippin can never be replaced, but still, it’s so lonely at home). Anyway, I’m rambling. I am very much loosing the plot.
I got home tonight (after adding another 1,000-and-a-bit words at work) and I felt really down and blue. I haven’t felt like this in so long. The worst part was, even though I got another big chunk written, and I wrote quite well, all i could think of is OHMYGODIDONOTWANTTOWRITEANOTHERWORDEVEREVERAGAIN and so forth. I’m actually thinking of taking a random day trip somewhere next week, just to get out of town before I truly crack up - if I’ve written half my required wordcount in one week whilst working full time, I think I will just make things a whole lot worse for myself if I do nothing but write full time for a whole week.
But I’m bitching and grumbling too much. I have actually enjoyed things immensely so far, sometimes I’m amazed at what I’ve come up with even if it’s full of misspellings and clunky expression, it’s the germ of the idea that counts. It’s also made me realise how antisocial I am deep down. Being able to sit down and concentrate on something I really want to do has been fantastic, though that sort of behaviour will hardly make me any friends ;-) Doing this has made me realise that it’s really not that hard to produce something of greater size, and although I might not be novelling material yet, there is always the potential in the future if I stick with it (but for now, I like things that are concise and stick to the point - taking 25,000 for what I consider an introduction is far from concise and to the point!!).
But my ears are ringing again and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I think I’m going to be a granny and go to bed!
The first couple of days I was doing really, really well. I got a little bit disconnected from the world, and seeing real people at work and on the train was a little jarring and strange. But after the initial existential angst things settled down and my word count soared before I knew what was going on. It sort of run away from me. Ok, yes, I am being a little devious and I have autocorrect separating my contractions (it’s amazing how the nots and the is’es add up!), but I seem to manage no less than 1,000 words per sitting which is a really nice thing. The storyline, well, it’s gone a little differently to I had expected - it’s taken me 25,000 words to get to where I wanted to be in 10,000, which is really really annoying me. Either, on editing, I’m going to have to be really quite brutal, or else it’s going to end up as a part 1 and part 2 type thing (part 1 setting things up, part 2 where all the stuff I intended happens). I’m also starting to worry my novel is too much doom and gloom. 28,000 words and not a single good thing has happened. I don’t want to throw in a ‘pat the dog’ moment just for the hell of it, but I’m fairly certain that no one is ever going to be able to get through it all without feeling like they want to bash in their head with a strategically placed brick wall.
But my high word count is kinda scaring me. I expected it to take a lot, lot longer to get to this point. I expected to be stopping every ten minutes to angst about what the hell is happening, but I’m not. I’m being so good and not going back and reviewing (ok, I did ONCE) and I’ve taken off the squiggly red and green lines that Microscum Word insists on putting below my mistakes, which makes me neurotic and borderline obsessive-compulsive.
Now, after eight days of slapping words down, living in the asylum in my mind, I think I’m slowly starting to crack up myself. I felt so low today I just laid in my bed for 20 minutes not doing anything. I’m not sure if this sudden onset of blues has anything to do with not having Pippin around anymore (writing on Tuesday, although productive, was agonising. The house is so quiet, and the thought of spending all week next week alone, budgie-less is worse. I’m actually going over to a friend’s place on Saturday to look at getting a new budgie from them. I know it’s sudden, and I know Pippin can never be replaced, but still, it’s so lonely at home). Anyway, I’m rambling. I am very much loosing the plot.
I got home tonight (after adding another 1,000-and-a-bit words at work) and I felt really down and blue. I haven’t felt like this in so long. The worst part was, even though I got another big chunk written, and I wrote quite well, all i could think of is OHMYGODIDONOTWANTTOWRITEANOTHERWORDEVEREVERAGAIN and so forth. I’m actually thinking of taking a random day trip somewhere next week, just to get out of town before I truly crack up - if I’ve written half my required wordcount in one week whilst working full time, I think I will just make things a whole lot worse for myself if I do nothing but write full time for a whole week.
But I’m bitching and grumbling too much. I have actually enjoyed things immensely so far, sometimes I’m amazed at what I’ve come up with even if it’s full of misspellings and clunky expression, it’s the germ of the idea that counts. It’s also made me realise how antisocial I am deep down. Being able to sit down and concentrate on something I really want to do has been fantastic, though that sort of behaviour will hardly make me any friends ;-) Doing this has made me realise that it’s really not that hard to produce something of greater size, and although I might not be novelling material yet, there is always the potential in the future if I stick with it (but for now, I like things that are concise and stick to the point - taking 25,000 for what I consider an introduction is far from concise and to the point!!).
But my ears are ringing again and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I think I’m going to be a granny and go to bed!