It is the 29th of November. Tomorrow will be the last day of the month. The last of November. The last day of National Novel Writing Month. The last day of a self-imposed torture, er I mean exercise in which I see if I actually have what it takes to be a writer.
OK, I know that's not really fair. NaNo is really more than that.
As has become my custom this week, I have been setting the alarm for 4:45 and getting up to write. My brain isn't necessarily firing on the 'work on the actual stories you should be working on' capacity yet, so I have been giving you glimpses inside my head. I don't know if they have been helping you see what a nutter I am (or think I am), or even to know what goes through my head when I'm writing.
Do they help?
Don't answer that.
In case you missed it, we had a nice little post on my particular flavor of Social Anxiety along with a tasty helping of The Doubt That Constantly Attacks Me, literally like all the time. Ironically, the post about my self-doubt got about a third as many views as the post about my social anxiety which, of course, leads to more doubts. It's kinda funny, actually.
Petit Biscuit is playing on the Chill Electronic playlist on Amazon Music as it has every morning this week. In about an hour I'll get ready for my day job. But today's a special day, it's Wednesday which means it's the day I get to jab a needle in my stomach--yay diabetes!
What I'm doing here, to NaNo purists is pretty much called getting Rogue NaNo words. These words are not part of my NaNo Novel and they are just an attempt to hit the arbitrary number that the NaNoIsts set at the number at which you can consider yourself a real writer. Sorry. I know that's not fair. Seriously, though, did you not see the piece on self-doubt? That shit runs deep, yo.
I don't know why they picked November for this month. It's a dark, depressing month most of the time here in Ohio. The days outside match the sometimes grayness of my soul.
Fun Fact #1: The way to tell if you should use "gray" or "grey" depends on your audience. If your audience is American, it's gray. If they are British (i.e. English), it's grey. Cool, huh? Could be total bullshit, but it seems to bear out in what I have read.
Back to November. November is the month where it is dark when I drive to work and dark when I drive home. It is the month that usually makes me question just how much of that being human thing I actually have sitting in the reserve tanks. It is the month during which Christmas music is played way the fuck too early. It is the busiest month for the industry that my IT Operations team serves (retail). It is the month (4 years ago this past Saturday) that my second (and final) divorce was made official. And it is the month of my birth.
In short, it's the month where that quiet introspection dark night of the soul shit really comes around to bite me in the ass. Like, a lot.
It's probably some form of depression coupled with the social anxiety coupled with the fact that I have high blood pressure and Type II diabetes and about 100lbs that i need to lose.
Why am I telling you this? Fuck, I don't know.
Maybe to remind you that writers are just regular people.
Maybe it's to remind me that writers are just regular people. Maybe ten years from now when I have a slew of best-sellers under my belt, I'll these posts and realize that no matter where I am in life, I'm probably just as full of shit on that day as I am on this day.
I am not brave for telling you this. I am not brave for powering through this stuff to get words down.
The truth of it is, I don't want to fucking fail. And not hitting fifty thousand words by midnight tomorrow would be a failure to me.
I am a believer in the fact that when you have done a thing you previously thought impossible, then it becomes bullshit (for the most part) to get in the mindset that you can never do that thing again.
Last year I won NaNo (as much as anyone can win--I hit the word count goal of at least 50K and thereby was a winner). So, there really should be no reason I can't do it again, right?
Makes sense to me.
Only, if that's the case, why do I wait until November every year to do so? This week has been something that seems like it could be fairly sustainable. Writing in the morning. Writing at lunch. Writing for a couple of hours after work.
So why don't I do it more?
Sheeeet brah. I have no frigging idea.
For real though, why November? Couldn't they have picked July? It's summer. Everyone is in good spirits. They could market it as "Getting independence from that idea in your head." Something something fireworks.
But somewhere along the way, they chose November.
Is that because writing, for the most part, is a very solitary event? Because, if you're going to be home questioning your own existence in the darkest month of the year, you might as well drop this seemingly impossible goal in to the mix, right?
Sure. Why not?
Fun Fact #2: Do you know the difference between a grave yard and a cemetery? A grave yard is on church property and is usually next to the church. A cemetery is a self-contained burial area (not on the grounds of any church).
If your arm chair psychology alarms are going off, don't worry. I always lean a little to the dark side anyway. I know you can't always tell that to look at me, but if you pay close enough attention, you'll see it. Just don't look too closely. That shit makes me nervous.
And I have to be honest here, you're kind of letting me down. I mean, I put tacos right there in the title of this thing and I'm sitting here listening to Tycho and sipping my diet Mtn Dew with nary a taco in sight. I'm a little disappointed.
I have passed the thousand word goal for the morning. That leaves me with roughly something in the neighborhood of 6,500 words to right before midnight tomorrow.
I am a firm believer in going with what works. To that end, I will likely be in the Starbucks again tonight with the noise cancelling headphones tonight (they were such a godsend last night). That, or Waffle House. Or perhaps the slightest of chances that I'll make it up to Denny's on Rt. 36.
Decisions, decisions. Words, words, words.
Thank you for putting up with my ramblings. I could lie and say that this whole thing is really character research for what goes on in the mind of a creative. But you'd probably see through that. You're pretty smart that way.
But you did forget the tacos.
Until tomorrow morning,
I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and ...
It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this mornin...
The house lights are down. The audience an invisible mass gathered with a low jumbled murmuring sit restless, somewhere out there in a cloud...
"... I watched the time go right out the window. What it meant to me will eventually be a memory..." M. Shinoda definitely has a ...