So today is the first day of my first year participating in National Novel Writing Month. This means that (a) I will likely have a lot to say about the process of speed-writing this month and following, and (b) by the time I do my word count for NaNo, my brain is like a small mound of jelly in the middle of a dance floor on a July afternoon, which is to say mooshy and helpless and likely to be abruptly and unexpectedly squidged. Although apparently creative, still.
Given the state of my brain right now, I will give you a quick recap of what the first day of NaNoWriMo was like for me:
Go to grocery in hopes of stocking up enough food not to have to do another big shop for the rest of November. Buy ridiculous amounts of food and realize while putting it away that you really ought to have taken care of the laundry and dishes over the weekend, but you didn’t, because you knew it was your last weekend before diving into being a feral writer for a month.
Say to hell with the dishes and laundry, write 700 words. Agonize. Second-guess. Remember you aren’t supposed to do that in November. Sit back down. Realize you are stuck. Write 300 words anyway. Realize you’re really tired and you feel like you’ve used all your ideas for today. Sit there for twenty minutes before remembering that coffee exists. Drink coffee, eat something (don’t remember what), and decide to play guitar for a while instead.
Sit down and try to write. Still not feeling it. Go for a walk and drop the rent off on the way home. Inadvertently start writing a song while walking, and have to write it down right away when you get home. Take a shower. Realize you need to figure out the chords to the song you made up on your walk, before you forget the tune. Realize you’re avoiding your novel. Find the chords anyway, and write them down.
Sit back down. Whinge via text messages. Drink the rest of the pot of coffee you made earlier. Buckle down again and write the rest of your word count and beyond, ending up with a daily count of 2348 words.
Realize you’re starving and haven’t eaten in five hours (for me, that’s eternity in food terms). Heat up potato from dinner three days ago. Avoid looking at dishes in sink. Update blog.
It felt good to push past where I thought I needed to stop for the day and find a second wind. I really got on a roll again, which I didn’t expect. I’m both excited and dubious about doing this every day for a month, but so far my usual tricks (taking breaks to get out and walk, or exercising some other form of creative process (guitar, in today’s case), etc.) are working well for me.