I’ve finally run out of excuses. Or rather, I’ve determined all of my excuses to be too obviously ridiculous.
So, I’m doing National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this year. Or, right now, actually. Today. And yesterday. It’s happening.
In these two days of writing, I’ve had many thoughts, mostly disparaging:
1. This is hard. Why am I doing this? Everything I’m writing is terrible. This is hard. That’s it, I’m stopping.
2. Really, I could just stop now and do this next November. I haven’t told TOO many people. That’s it, I’m stopping.
3. (Reading advice from other writers) Good lord all of their advice is utterly contrary to how I’m writing! That’s it, I’m stopping.
4. I actually like what I just wrote. Fancy that.
5. (5 seconds later) Apparently that will be the only good paragraph in this entire puddle of non-literary vomit. That’s it, I’m stopping.
6. I don’t have any idea what my novel’s plot is or who the characters are. I’m clearly ill-prepared. That’s it, I’m stopping.
7. I need some chocolate.
8. How will I ever have time to rewatch every season of Gilmore Girls with all of this novel-writing going on? That’s it, I’m stopping.
9. I have always wanted to write a novel. Maybe this is my chance to actually do it.
10. Maybe it doesn’t matter if a first draft is terrible. I do love to edit. I’m giving myself something to edit later, that’s all.
11. My computer only has 15% battery left, and the charger is across the room. THAT’S IT, I’M STOPPING.
1,250 words down, 48,750 words to go.