In two months I wrote just under 100,000 words. And yet I still didn’t complete NaNaWriMo.
October was a rush of words, words and words. I slew dragons and wrote about freedom when I meant to write about fear, I completed a trilogy and novella and then, with barely a moment to draw a good breath, it was NaNoWriMo.
At first, it trotted along rather nicely and the story rolled out and away before me. Even after two days of no writing and much adventuring in Belgium I caught up soon enough. Until that last week of November I was on track. But then … nothing happened.
No blog posts, no writing, no editing.
I read. A lot. Mostly at irregular hours. But did I write? No, not a word. Inspiration had dried up and not even my own blog post could help me.
Right now, I’m – with many a stall and a false start – attempting to butcher and better Sandwiches, and after that I have all winter to complete The Many Trials of a Blacksmith.
I’m not disappointed that I didn’t finish NaNaWriMo, but I’m very glad that I attempted it. It boosted The Many Trials by a great deal and set the story rolling.
And for that, I’m grateful.
But whether you succeeded in NaNoWriMo (accept my congratulations!), or like myself, didn’t make it to the finishing line, I think we all deserve a hearty hurrah, a pat on the back and a nice cup of tea. Because we wrote, and I rather think that is what National Novel Writing Month is all about.
Fancy a cuppa?