Saturday, October 25, 2014
In one week National Novel Writing Month begins, and I as well as thousands of writers around the globe will be spending the next thirty days writing to reach the 50,000 words finish line. This is also the time when I generally try to come up with a fun, motivational post to encourage writers who are on the fence to dive in with the rest of us.
Thing is, at the moment I'm not feeling especially inspiring. I landed a job so I'm going back to work (hooray!), only it's ghost-writing so I can't tell anyone about it (ho-hum). I'm still recovering from my surgeries, which was going well until an unexpected infection set in last week. Every time I blinked felt like someone was stabbing me in the eye with a toothpick. Which meant going back on the steroid eyedrops, which burn almost as bad. Just as that started to clear up, I got my hand caught between two grocery carts I was trying to separate at the market. Yes, I am that kind of idiot. Freeing myself resulted in bruises + a nice big gash on said hand, which given my wimpy immune system will probably not heal until NaNo is over.
Did I mention I have a new job I have to start like immediately?
I know, whine, whine, whine. No one can do it better than writers. Honestly, I am grateful for the work, and the infection is gone, and I have plenty of Band-Aids. It's just dealing with the eyedrops and sore hand and depression over being so banged up while trying to do my best for the new job, all I really want to do is give up on NaNo, unplug and hide until January.
I could, quite easily. You would understand, wouldn't you? I mean, look at my excuses. They're pretty good, aren't they?
Still, as of November 1st, come Hell, come high water, come whatever, I'm writing a novel in thirty days. Why? We already know how mule-headed I can be, yes? But it's not just stubborness. It's joy to go with the job. It's laughing at wretched eye infections. It's kicking all the stuck-together grocery carts in the world to the moon. It's a bridge across the abyss.
Why? It's writing. I'm a writer. This is what I do, and I'm doing this for me.
So those are my pom poms, and while they're not especially pretty, fun or motivational this year, I'm shaking them for me and you. I know for every trouble I have many of you have at least as many, if not more. A lot of you are swamped, dealing with your own day jobs and financial worries and health issues and family dramas, and there simply is not enough time to do anything except put out fires and hope you don't go crazy in the process. Or maybe you're just tired and not in the mood. I get it, really, I do. I absolutely believe that your excuses are as good as if not better than mine.
But you're a writer, and this is what we do. So write with me this November. Write your novel. Do it for you.