Can I be honest with all of you for a couple of minutes?

I’m terrified about this year’s NaNo. I don’t have a plan. I barely have an idea. And I certainly don’t have time. And even worse? I know what to expect.

Last year was my first time participating in NaNoWriMo. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It seemed like a great idea at the time—and don’t get me wrong, it was—but now I do know. It’s an amazing roller coaster ride. It’s life consuming.

And I’m completely unprepared for it. I’m worried that I’m taking on too many things at once. I’m terrified that something’s going to slip.

Back in May I actually sat down with the intention of outlining my novel and making copious notes to use this year. But then life got busy, I started acting in an independent film project, I picked up a second job, I moved (and you can ask anybody that helped me move, I have way too much shit), and then the KC Renaissance Festival started up and I went at least once every weekend, usually for the whole day. Suddenly it’s the end of October and I still have no idea what I’m going to be writing about.

Well, practically no idea.

I’m writing the sequel to the novel I wrote during last NaNo and never finished editing. So I’ll at least have a familiar cast of characters to work with.

This year is different from last year. Not only do I know what I’m getting into, but I also have a second job to contend with, a second job that eats up quite a bit of my time. I’m also starting from scratch. Last year I cheated. I took first twenty-five thousand words of a novel I’d started and added another fifty thousand. I don’t have that base to start off. All I have is a handful of notes in a box somewhere. Or maybe it’s not in a box. Maybe it’s hidden somewhere in my room. My really, really messy room. So, if my moms are reading this, I promise I will clean my room… just as soon as I have some free time.

The other major difference for this year? This year I’ll actually be able to eat during NaNo. My lovely roommate has been instructed to make sure I eat by any means necessary. I suspect there will be a few times where she will have to grab a fistful of my hair and drag me away from my laptop and over to a cooked meal. And she’s willing to do it because she’s awesome… and apparently enjoys cooking.

Anyway, thanks for listening to my fears, I feel better for getting them off my chest.

At the age of six, Eliza was certain of two things. The first was that she had stories to tell. The second was that she had no talent for illustrating them herself. Talent or no, she still wrote and illustrated her first book, one that should be located and locked away if only to prevent her parents from embarrassing her terribly by showing it off alongside baby pictures. Now she spends her days writing stories that she isn't embarrassed to show off after a little bit of polishing.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.