So NaNoWriMo is only a couple of weeks away again. Where does the time go? Last year’s effort has been untouched since NaNoWriMo 2010 ended. It was fun, but it was also like wading through treacle, and even the plot bunnies abandoned me to my fate. Bastards. But this year, I’m going to be using the chance to get me to the finish of my WIP, which, I know as I dated the first sheet when I started (I write by hand), has been plaguing me for almost three years.
Not that it’s really a bother. Not at all. In fact, when it’s finally finished, I’ll rather miss it. But I suppose these last few years, not just the last few months, have been almost devoid of writing opportunities, and my heart wasn’t in it as much as it should be. Now I’m only a hamster fart away from 60 thousand words, meaning I’ve written, on average, 20 thousand per year thus far. When I know damn well I can write 60 thousand for NaNoWriMo. Not good enough. OK, it’s not the only thing I’ve been working on. But still, I’m now keen to put the running shoes on and get ready for NaNo to help me race to the finish line before the year is out.
In preparation, I’ve been writing like a mad thing these past few days. In order that Laz can do the same, we’ve not seen each other this week (discipline, y’know, that thing many of us aren’t so good at, is needed for this). I do miss him, but we’re in touch every day via various means, and I’ve kept myself busy so I don’t have time to climb the walls. I went training last night, helping out with the kids’ class (which I love, it’s frustrating but fun), soft style (feedback from Dave on my pattern, which is always welcome), hard style and then patterns. I was going to be back quite late enough as it was – I was staying at Matt’s place again – so I didn’t stay for the final class, but it was an excellent evening, as usual. I asked Dave a question about anger, now that I’m happy, as it’s not so easy to find when you’re in a good place emotionally. So he ended the class and spoke about it to everyone, telling us how anger is healthy, how bottling it up is dangerous, and how to find it within ourselves to make our kung fu better. I thought – hmm, late trains. That pisses me off. So I’ll see if that works at the weekend when I train again.
On Tuesday night, I rang Laz to talk about writing. He was struggling with a plot point and it was easier to talk than exchange direct messages on Twitter. We ended up, as always, talking about my writing, as well, as there’s a major plot point I’ve been needing to sort out since the beginning: why what’s happening is actually happening. So we bounced a few ideas off each other and came up with the answer between us. Yay! I do love it when that happens. And later on, when I was thinking about it again, I got the full picture. It was one of those light-bulb moments when something that has been bugging you finally becomes clear, and the only annoying thing is that it should have been obvious all along. So now I know where the story is going, where it needs to end (roughly) and how to get there. I just need NaNoWriMo and its frenzied scribbling to help me write my way to the end. (By the way, I know that’s not what you’re supposed to do – I know you’re supposed to write a novel from scratch – but rules were meant to be broken.)
It’s really late, now. I need to sleep. I feel I’ve done an acceptable number of words on my WIP to justify going to bed.