The saddest thing I could’ve done in November would’ve been ignoring the call.
More than once leading up to the “warm and cozy Thanksgiving month,” I felt the pull. The need. The request. The brrring-brrring.
Write a novel, it said. 50,000 words.
On the (very possible) chance I was hearing God Almighty, the Great Creator Himself, I thought myself wise to dive in.
This year was my fourth time participating in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and I looked less like a dying duck this time.
My prep list was simple:
- a new spiral notebook for ideas
- fancy, non-dry-out pens
- a short list of ways to be good to myself (ice cream, chocolate, Epsom salt baths, a stuffed animal, CAFFEINE, sleep)
- a laptop
- an idea
- a supportive/ encouraging Husband
- two fellow authors who acted as accountability partners
- lots of prayer, asking the Great Creator for assistance
It was amazing how this short list actually made this year better than any before.
Did I win early? No. But I finished. And it wasn’t at 11:45 p.m. the night of November 30th, either (still haunted by that finish of 2011.)
Was I stressed out? A little, but it was way less stress than all the other attempts.
I would say the worst part of my 2015 Nanowrimo was about 25,000 words in. One of my author friends had to sit across from me and console my “I think my plot is horrible” anxiety, anxiety that was actually blocking me from moving forward with the plot! Next time, I will call her sooner, and ask her to hit me with a dose of common-sense truth before it becomes a monster in my mind.
The best part of this year’s Nanowrimo experience? Word sprints with my accountability partners. God bless them for racing me. The mini-competitions that lasted 20 minutes, 30 minutes, and an hour actually shoved me ahead. I will remember this for future Nanos.
Looking at my plot now, after Nanowrimo? Good gracious it needs help! But wow, it actually resembles a book. One that I might genuinely like to read. I’m excited to look at it again and start thinking editing thoughts.
Editing… See, the mere thought of looking at it right now (2 days later) and messing with words has me shivering.
I thought I was recovered.
Guess I need one more Epsom salt bath with another handful of chocolate.