running up mountains

I told myself I would write a blog post today, but I’m really not sure how to even start explaining the past few months. I’m also running on about twelve hours of sleep from the past few days so that obviously doesn’t help.

First things first, the most prominent thing on my mind is nanowrimo. I didn’t necessarily fail to meet my nanowrimo goal, but I also didn’t necessarily succeed either? I wrote a lot of words during the month of November. I was consistently above my word count up until the halfway point, where I got extremely busy out of nowhere and was forced to abandon it. I had a personal goal of 80,000 that I didn’t reach. The reason it feels like I didn’t necessarily fail is because there was a certain point that I realized I knew I could keep writing, but I chose not to. Consciously I told myself it was because I didn’t want to overwhelm myself, but looking back, the real reason was due to the how well I was doing up until that point.

The book I was writing wasn’t perfect, but it was miles better than the one I wrote last year. When the going got tough last month I knew I found like crank out whatever I needed for my word count, but it would be at the expense of the novel. It’s what happened last year. I wrote no matter the cost, and the cost last year was the quality of the work I was doing.

I was telling myself that if I was doing to sit down and write it had better be good. Which normally is counterintuitive. But it was working for a little bit. When it stopped working I was stuck. Moral of the story: I don’t have one yet, it’s still a developing story. I want to try and finish the novel in the coming months so we’ll see how what goes.