Before November started, I said I would probably write all the time about my struggles and discoveries this National Novel Writing Month. Now that the month is nearly gone and I've barely mentioned it, I feel slightly guilty. But I was using my time to write my novel, not blog entries.
Time to make up for that.
I've kept up with word count, though it's been difficult. There's been a day or five or seven where I didn't write, too busy or not in the mood. But most of the time, I made it up in the next day or two. I knew I couldn't afford to let myself get too far behind. Right now, I'm at 43,347 words, right on track and close enough to the win that my breath is fogging up the finish line on the other side of my screen. I still don't know precisely how I want to end it, because I have very little idea what the best ending will be with all these scrapes and plot holes, but so far the ending's involved a few explosions, so I guess it can't be that bad.
My first year I tried (and failed) NaNoWriMo, I started with no idea what the story would be like. Halfway through the month, I was busy and still had no idea what my story was about, so I quit. This year, I've been a little better prepared. I had maybe 1/4 of a story idea. There are four days left. I can probably come up with four days of material.
My problems this month so far have been leaving character development to the last minute, loving characters but slowly realizing they didn't fit with the story I'm trying to tell, loving the story I'm trying to tell and realizing I know nothing about it, being too confident, not being confident enough, and being too busy. This last has helped me write my full 1,667 in 45 minutes, however, so I'm not terribly grudging.
Basically, my NaNovel is a NaNovel. It is awkward and lopsided. It doesn't deserve to see the light of day, and it deserves a full revision as soon as I can give it. It's somewhat daft and rather wild. It's like one of your dear friends who likes to do strange and awkward things in public. Right now, it's a little insecure. Maybe it will feel a little better about itself once I figure out how to help it say what it wants to say.
But what interesting things our imaginations can do.