I was very excited to start the NaNo race. I could hardly wait for it to begin and bolt forward. But now, on day seven, I have found my sprinting has gone ka-put. I’m now forcing myself to sit at the computer screen to write-write-write. Write anything. Just write, already.
Last year doing NaNoWriMo, I discovered that if I didn’t go over the expected word count early on (closer to 2,000 words per day than the 1,667), that it was too easy to fall behind when there came a day when I didn’t have time to write anything, and then it became an uphill attempt on a waterslide to catch up to where I was supposed to be. This morning I’m feeling like giving it all up. I’m thinking, “Wow. Would you just look at all the new scenes and ideas I’ve come up with? Surely this is enough to complete my novel. Maybe that’s good enough.”
(Okay. So sometimes I have to give myself a pep talk, too.)
If I don’t work on the novel now, just when do I think I’m going to be writing out all these wonderful ideas to make it into the rough draft? So now I’m committing myself to write at least one scene or description per day.
Three days ago, I sat down “with nothing to write,” so thought I’d just describe a winter storm, which I planned on having in the novel before NaNoWriMo began. When I came up for breath, I saw my husband at the door. He said, “Want to take a walk?” I shivered, but agreed. Exercise is always a good thing for a writer/ reader who spends so much time in a chair. I came around the hallway corner. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the present, outside the picture window. It was green out there! Green, green, green. I was expecting to see a blizzard, snow caked against the windows, winds whipping the white stuff so hard that I couldn’t see the dogwood tree thirty feet away. Wait. Green? Where was I? What month was it? I crashed into the present.
Now quit reading this. Get back into the race and write a scene (or chapter).