I just realized something regarding NaNoWriMo. I already said that I’m not expecting to meet the 50k word count. It’s not how I write and I don’t believe it would help my noveling process better than what I’m currently doing (not that what I’m currently doing is super efficient or anything, but drumming out more words than I have brain juice for is not the cure). So I’m going to do the best I can, but I expect my realistic word count to be around 20k or so. 25k if I push it.
And then I realized: my novel doesn’t have 50k words left. It only has about 20-25k left. 30k tops (that is me way overestimating how much stuff I still need to add). Of course I’m writing it now, and it’s only the beginning of October, and I still have the whole of November to push for the ‘real’ word count.
So what does this mean? It means, by the end of NaNoWrimo this year, if I keep myself diligent and nothing catastrophic happens (like the scratched cornea) that’d prevent me from writing, I will be finished with this novel. Finally. After all this time.
Of course now I’ve said it’ll never get done. But, well, let’s just go and see.
I’ve decided this year for NaNo I’m going to work on two things at once. I need to continue to write my first novel, because god damn that thing needs to be done by now. Of course I’ll be writing it throughout October too, and maybe into December? Anyway, that is a given. In the meantime, I will also write a brand new second novel. The second one will be more fun and casual than my first, because I can’t work on two depressing and serious works at once. I will also care less about how “perfect” the second novel will be, which, to be honest, probably means that I will actually finish that one much faster than my first one. I’m usually my own worst enemy.
So for October I will be doing my usual twist on the Snowflake Method to prep for the new novel. I am quite excited, yes – nothing like a new idea to get a writer’s blood pumping. My first novel will be like my day job while this second novel is the “real” NaNo project, like many NaNo participants who have real job to pay bills while working on NaNo on the side. Am I expecting to “win” NaNo and write 50k words in one month? Nope. I think my monthly word count tops off at 20k; 25k if I push. It doesn’t matter, really. The point of the whole exercise for me is a structured way of working, which I’m still not great at doing despite a few years of practice already. I think once I get that conquered I’ll feel much more validated as a writer, even if I haven’t published anything as of yet.
There was a warehouse near the pier that was rumored to be haunted. Mob hits, government testing, secret prisons; the speculations were endless. What everyone could agree on, however, was the constant howling and the shimmering lights, ethereal like ghosts in the dark.
Lydia knew better. She was from the Otherside, after all, and she had seen timespace split like tissue paper many times. The interval between these “hauntings” was too regular to be a fluke. It was up to Menders like her to make sure things stay intact.
She veiled her face, snapped on her gloves, and ventured inside.
I think I’m slightly depressed right now. Mostly from loneliness because of the brief separation from my husband. Yeah, a little pathetic, I know, but if you haven’t been apart for a while and you’ve been kind of stuck like glue you sort of feel it, you know? (I was away from him in May while visiting my family, but I had my family with me then, and not just me by myself in an empty house for two weeks). Also I feel a little hopeless about my novel. It seems like I never could progress further than one chapter a week at best, and there were like 10 chapters left when I started earlier this year and now there’re still 10 more chapter left because the book kept getting longer. I mean I’m not artificially lengthening my chapters or anything, it’s just that there’re more and more things to add as I get to know the plot better, the characters motivation better, you know, standard novel draft stuff. It makes me sad that I can never finish anything, it seems like. What am I working so hard for? It’ll never amount to anything. The sheer mountain of work is burying me even thinking about it. So why even try?
I should just suck it up and work regardless. That is the goal – work everyday regardless. But it is so goddamn hard. Just like working out and keep at it, knowing you may never see a result, not even years from now (there’s no guarantee you’ll lose weight, or lose as much as you hoped, even with regular exercising). I did well last week, kinda, but am losing steam this week. I’m not sure what I should be doing right now. I know I’ve been ridiculously stressed because I tend to grind my teeth at night when I’m stressed, and for the past week my jaw ached in the mornings because I’ve been chomping so hard. (It got a little better this week, but I can still feel it). I mean eventually you just suck it up and move on, but I’m not there yet. I have to start moving on, you know? I wanted to write today but couldn’t bring myself to open a word document. I’m not sure how I’ll move through this yet.
Today is one of those days where I just don’t feel like working. I want to lie down on the bed, get some snacks, and read or play some video games. It’s Saturday, I know, but seriously my job has no “days off,” or can have one any day of the week, which I’ve deemed, so far, as Wednesday. And today is not it!
My novel feels endless. I mean, it’s moving forward, yes, but the end goalpost keeps moving too. It has blossomed from a novella to a full blown novel of 40k and now it’s going toward 60k with no stopping. I feel like I’m at the half way mark since forever. It feels so discouraging! Everybody just tells me to “keep pushing” but, what if the push takes 10 years? OK, it won’t take 10 years, hopefully, but another year is a total possibility and that makes me so sad. I’m supposed to be done with this this month and move on to my short stories. What in the seventh hell?
I feel like I know exactly what to do with my life, but that goal is bad. It’s like someone deemed their goal in life is to eat Cheetos and watch TV. Yeah, it’s a goal, but you’ll die if you don’t make money. And that’s where I am. I’m writing a novel with no money. I’m only lucky that I have a supportive family and stuff. And what am I doing? Writing at a snail’s pace on ONE novel, forever. It’s ridiculous. But even keeping up with the daily word count is hard. I should be pushing myself to the limit, but I’ve done that, and all that did was drive me into further depression and completely block my creative side. I’ve learned to pace myself now, but then, the pace is way too slow. It’s like nothing ever goes right in this career path. But then I also don’t know, literally, how to do anything else. And if I try to start over (i.e. give up writing and find a “normal” job), well, I’ve been out of work for five years. So yeah, it’ll be shit with shit pay and shit hours, so, again, not helping any either. It’s really not worth it.
I’m alright. It’s just one of those days. I don’t know what to do with myself besides keep going.
There were fresh flowers lying in a tool box in the garage. A note was attached to it. “Happy Mother’s Day,” it said, gold letters embossed on cream eggshell. There was even a pink bow tying the stems together.
They got delivered late due to a scheduling mishap. Rachel was on her way back already from her mother’s wake. They belonged in the trash but pickup wasn’t until next Wednesday, and Denise didn’t want Rachel to see them, even wilting in the bin. So out with the screwdrivers they sat, until she could drive out – alone – and dispose of them.
I actually made my word count for July Camp NaNoWriMo! Yay!!!
I set a word goal of 16000 words on my novel this month. Yeah, it’s not much, but hey, I actually accomplished what I set out to do this one time. Wow. More than a decade of trying both NaNo and Camp NaNo and never making past halfway of any of my goals, and today is the day. July 2017. Jesus Christ I am horrible at this furious writing thing.
But I’m not going to dwell on all of my past failings, at least not today. I made a word count goal at the beginning of the month, and I’m at it now. So. Kudos to me. I’m going to go have some ice cream to celebrate.