So Happy Easter and all that. It was nice to have 4 days off. Not so nice to get up this morning having been lulled into my natural sleeping pattern of rise late, sleep late.But enough of that. It’s Camp NaNoWrioMo, a time when authors and wannabes try to write a novel in a month or whatever and however much they want, as of this version. Which is great except why isn’t every month write however much you want of whatever you want month? It should be.
Reading this back it sounds like I’m against the widening definition of NaNoWriMo. I’m not. I really do think it’s great. I just wish the support you get was there every month. You know – the cabin, the wordsprints on twitter, all that jazz, it’s great!
Not helping me much, though. For all you early flounderers out there, I am with you. Maybe now that NaNoWriMo doesn’t have to be a novel, it could be a series of false starts. I chose to restart my novel because I tried to re-read my dissertation and thought it was a load of shit. I just read what I wrote yesterday and came to the same conclusion. Except yesterday’s shit is fresh and smellier and hasn’t been polished up at all. So I’m thinking of starting again. No idea how. Do I like how I started last time but just not the writing? No.
(Yes, this will be one of those rambly, moany posts – like I said, I did not appreciate being jolted back into the real world’s sleeping pattern of 7am til 11pm so I’m tired, OK?)
Yesterday, I left off moaning to go for a swim and while practically treading water behind the slowest swimmer I’ve ever encountered I started mulling things over. And the answer came to me. I thought it through for a few more lengths until I got that ‘I want to get home and write’ itch, swam for a few more then got out, went home and wrote.
After one more false start the words suddenly started to flow. And of course it felt amazing and I’ve been on a high ever since. Was in an irritatingly good mood all day, today, to the delight of my colleagues. Kept thinking about how I couldn’t wait to get home and write. Of course, now that I have come home I’ve been busy doing more important things like checking facebook and watching Bob’s Burgers and writing a blog post. The thing is, though, it’s still there – the will to write. It’s more like delaying the pleasure. I’ve also got into this post-dinner writing routine. You know what writers are like with routines. Pathetically superstitious.
Time to get on it.
Maybe another cup of tea, first, ay?