November 30th. The last hours of NaNoWriMo are upon us.
Today’s a rough day for me. I’m doing my best to cheer on my WriMos and get as many across the finish line as possible. That part’s fun, and rewarding. I love my job as an ML. But personally? It’s tough. Not because of today, but because of tomorrow.
December 1st is always a lesson in the Newtonian laws of motion.
Right now, I feel like I’m leaning out of a train car that’s hurtling forward at an ungodly speed. Up ahead, I know the train is going to stop. Abruptly. Absolutely. Violently.
I’m watching the ground go by in a blur, and I’m thinking, If I don’t jump off, I’m going to come to an abrupt, absolute, violent stop. Ouch.
But then I think, If I do jump off, just how fast can my little bitty legs carry me? Without the support of the runaway train, how far can I go? How fast? Can my little engine possibly compete with the full speed locomotive of NaNoWriMo?
What if I stumble? If I fall down? Will I get back up? If I somehow manage to keep my footing, and keep moving forward, for how long? What if I finally pause to take a breath, and realize that standing still feels pretty good?
November is all about gaining momentum via the surge of other writers all doing the same thing as you. Giving you an excuse to ignore all other distractions for thirty days and focus on just one thing: writing.
But once November’s over? Boy, does the party end quickly. The forums become ghost towns and everyone realizes, “I need to get back to other things! Writing isn’t the only thing in my life!” It’s not just a lack of wind behind your sails. It’s turning the sea to cement, the air to molasses, the will to write sapped to nearly nothing.
Ugh. Tough to keep going when November passes, and the December Friction descends.
Here’s to hoping. I have a lot of story left to tell.
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
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