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Day 10 of Nanowrimo

Dear World,

It’s day ten of the writing frenzy known as National Write a Novel Month. I am amazed that I’m on track and have experienced nine days of consistency. (today’s words have yet to be spun) I sit atop 14,908 words written in 9 days. A hard fought battle has been waged, the wear and tear is beginning to show on my face but I’m seeing it through. During this entire process I’ve also been fighting the flu, which for some odd reason, is taking its sweet time with me.  Fighting the flu AND consistency issues at the same time has required me to don my poker face and double down. I tried bluffing one day, but no matter what–the words wouldn’t write themselves. The keyboard called my bluff, and I had to fold. That was the day I wrote 1667 words with 102 fever, a severe cough, accompanied by incessant moaning and whining. It was ugly. I have yet to go back and read those words. Admittedly, I’m afraid of what I might find. But the bottom line is–I wrote. I stayed the course. And even if I have to re-write or edit the hell out of those 1667 words–I wrote them. For Nano that is enough. Crap is fully accepted, and is even expected.

I’m basically 1/3 of the way through a novel and 1/3 the way through my month-long date with consistency. It’s been an interesting ride so far. Most of the days went well, especially when I was able to write early in the day and experience the satisfaction of a job well done. A few other days felt more like I was being stalked by my commitment. Why did I commit to this anyway? I’d ask myself. What the hell? I’d complain. From the other room I’d hear the keyboard calling my name (not so different from when chocolate does this)–and I’d ignore it. “Later,” I’d say. Later would become even later, leaving me struggling for words at nine o’clock at night (remember the flu was ever-present).

Those nights each word was slow to form, feeling forced, difficult. But I kept writing.

Even when my kids said, “You don’t look very good, you should go to bed. Do you have to do this right now?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Who are you writing this for?” my daughter asked.

I thought about that for a few moments. Sure–I was writing for Nanowrimo, and that seemed to be responsible for keeping me on track thus far. But really this was about more than that. I told her, “I’m writing for myself.” Nothing more, nothing less. Just for me.

 

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