I can’t decide how I feel about this decision. I am simultaniously incredibly relieved, and also a bit disappointed with myself.
I mean, of course I’m disappointed with myself. Writing is a big deal to me… but the weird thing is that I’m also not disappointed. I feel daunted by the task ahead, and also less interested in it than I’ve been before.
I feel like nanowrimo is the wrong way to write a novel. Yes, it is good for getting ideas down on paper, it is probably exceptionally good for getting your stentences straightened out–good for the practice of writing, but it is not necessarily good for the parts of writing that I am bad at… the finishing, and the plot. I am terrible with plots.
I have this picture of myself at 45 writing novels. Maybe even at 35. But right now I want to still be in my 20s (last year for it) and enjoying life to the fullest. Not stressing about work or novel writing, or how I’m going to fit both into my day.
I am still going to make an effort to write more frequently. Perhaps I will make an effort to sit down every day and write. Yes, I will do that at least through november. I think I will try and actually finish up the novel I wrote last year for nanowrimo. But more importantly, I think I’m going to try and write a poem a day again. And I don’t want to stop at the end of november. I want to write a poem a day for at least a year. I’m going to write a poem a day until next november, and maybe then I’ll do nanowrimo again as a 30-something. (But without the something.)
Yeah, so how are things? Things are grand, things are fucking great really. I’m dating someone wonderful, and I’m learning to do aerial acrobatics. (Albiet the latter quite slowly; I think I might start going to class more than once a week.) My work has moved to a real location again, which is quite nice. I’m taking the bus to work more or less every day and loving the time I get to read.
Oh yeah, and I’m going to take at least a half-hour to read every day.
So yeah, not writing a novel this november, but I’m going to write a poem every day, and maybe a bit of last year’s novel. I’m definitely going to print that fucker out and do some major editing. And I’m going to take time to read every day. And maybe start playing guitaur again.
…and I’m not going to feel guilty for not writing 2,000 words a day.