No NaNoWriMo For Me This Year

Since 2006, I’ve faithfully geared up each year and attempted to write 50,000+ words in the month of November. I “won” National Novel Writing Month my first year, and finally “won” again last year, when I hit 50,094 words, closed the word document and honestly have no idea where it went. Nor do I care too much.

Don’t get me wrong, I love, love, love NaNoWriMo. I love the freedom of sitting down and just writing until I can’t write any longer, of not worrying about what makes sense or doesn’t. It was thrilling last year to stop my first plot line about 20,000 words in, fast forward a couple years, and basically start over. Who cares? It’s my novel; I can do whatever I want.

But NaNoWriMo, for me, is a lot like dreaming. It’s so glorious when my logic center shuts down, and I just fly along in whatever direction my mind takes me with no care in the world.

But when I wake up, I’m left with confusion and that annoying sensation that I forgot something.

This year, I don’t see any reason at all to put myself through that again. Too many other things are going on for me to try to write 1,667 words every day in a story that will not (and should not) see the light of day.

Instead, I’m bringing back the balcony.

What?

Yes, the anything can happen on a balcony tagline of my 2008 NaNoWriMo novel, and perhaps a collection of my favorite characters of all time. Ever. Thanks to a Carroll High photo hunting cohort, Dharma & Greg watcher and general partner in chalking crime, those characters came to life in 2008. And really, they’re a lot of fun. They should see the light of day. They are funky and cool and have a zest for life that makes me laugh whenever I write them.

And some of them deserve to have bad things happen to them. I would like to ensure those bad things happen, thank you very much.

So this year, instead of starting a new novel in November, which would probably be abandoned around 25,000 words in favor of sleep, I’m going to work through these characters and hopefully make them into characters that other people think are really fun too.

Who knows: maybe I can churn out a trilogy and turn into one of those really bad authors who makes a couple hundred thousand dollars per day on a book that does nothing to better society. And then I’m going to buy my high school friend her own personal jet. Because she’s just that awesome.

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