Okay, I’ll admit it right up front. This post is going to be shorter and shallower than previous ones. I can’t help it—my fingers and my brain are tired.
Fifty thousand words in thirty days. I did it. The novel isn’t finished—its story wouldn’t be contained in fifty thousand words. I’m still not exactly sure how it ends, but I’ve come to know the characters—surprises and all—and I made it through a variety of unanticipated plot twists. Those moments when words spill onto the page bypassing the conscious brain until my eyes read them are magical, if disconcerting. When a sentence that I knew when I started it finishes itself in some unexpected way makes me wonder where the ideas really come from.
The month of marathon writing was like walking on a path through the forest at night. I knew ultimately where the trail led, but I didn’t know the territory I had to cover along the way. And my flashlight batteries were rather weak—I could only see a few feet ahead of me at any given time. It’s a scary situation to be in: dark shapes loom just beyond that beam of light, and the trail might fall off into nothingness out there in the gloom.
One might think that new batteries and a bright, piercing beam would make me better equipped for such a journey when I take it again. But I think I’ll keep things just the way they are—that stumbling through the unknown is a unique trip and one worth taking.
I still have the rest of the story ahead of me, but I’m doing that on a less grueling schedule and giving myself room to breathe.
Until next year. November 2010 will find me frantic and fumbling through NaNoWriMo once again.
Congratulations! Your weekly post says it all. A worthwhile endeavor taken as far as you need to go at this juncture
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