I tried #NaNoWriMo again this year.
It’s a more interesting challenge than not ejaculating throughout November. Still, 50,000 words in thirty days is a lot. That’s a target of 1667 or so words a day.
I wrote 8045.
That’s an average of 268 words a day. Not helped by thirteen days of me not writing at all. Weekends are hard. Writing is hard.
I did learn quite a bit.
One, this "Epic Novel" that has been floating in my head since my teenage years is a mess. Lots of scattered scenes and ideas that go nowhere. I shat them out of my brain. That felt good.
Two, it’s so easy to want to have written. Whenever I looked at one or two of the scenes I did write, some of them seemed pretty cool. But then I was trying to tie this other scene in and wondered, did it matter? Did anyone care? Did I care? But they were part of the world, right? Kill your darlings, I suppose.
Three, I’m not a writer. Not yet, at least. And that’s because I don’t write. Which, seems obvious, but how many "labels" do I attach to myself because that’s what I want to feel cool as. But I’m more of a teacher who spends evenings doomscrolling. That’s not what I want to be.
I saved the file today and closed it. I could return to it one day. Right now, I have another idea I’m going to crunch on for a bit. We’ll see. I set a target of 1000 words a day. And I’ll crunch. And if it works out, beautiful. And if it doesn’t?
I may die not being a published author. But I won’t die being someone who did not try.