Do you have any idea how difficult it is to write an entry outlining how hard I failed at NaNoWriMo and not have it wind up a steaming pile of emo garbage? Good grief.
Yup, I sucked hard this year. It’s actually a lot less surprising than I’d like it to be. I really should have known better – silly, misguided little fox.
I have run the gamut of emotions on this one. I’ve been apathetic to my plight, heaving heavy “mehs” left and right. I’ve been depressingly hard on myself, giving “you’re no writer!” lectures to the gal in the mirror. And I’ve been pretty optimistic about the whole mess. So I didn’t write 50K words and rock out the beginning, middle and end of a novel-sized idea. Does that mean the end of my writing career? Am I a complete failure because I just couldn’t get the right rhythm this month? Patrick Rothfuss doesn’t think so and neither do I.
I did write. I wrote a depressingly small number of words, but I wrote. Impressively? Most of it was one-handed chicken pecking. I stole time where I could for the first two weeks of this monumental literary challenge, and then I stopped. I was puffed-chestedly proud of myself for writing the amount I did when I was writing, and then I stopped. That’s where that “depressingly hard on myself” part kicked in. I started thinking about all of those superstars rocking out novels between cooking dinner, cleaning the house, working full-time jobs, ferrying their spawn to school, bouncing babies on their knee and matching wits with the Sphinx and then I started comparing myself with them.
I have my share of challenges, same as you. Thing is, and I need to continuously remind myself of this, mine are no less important and time consuming. That’s right, I’m absolutely free of my nine-to-five desk job right now. Does that mean bonbons and couch time rule my life right now? Nope, not at all. They’re all excuses, but I allow many things to steal my time these days.
Thing is? I wrote. I found time to knock out a few sentences here and there. That is the important thing. That is what I am going to take away from NaNoWriMo 2013. I didn’t establish the writing routine that I wanted and I certainly didn’t write a 50K novel, but I further cemented my desire to write, I gained confidence in my ability to do so and I began to understand that there is always time in a day, even if it’s only ten minutes. (You can accomplish a lot in ten minutes.)
So to my fellow NaNoWriMo 2013 failures: you tried. You had an awesome goal and you tried. You didn’t write 50K, no big deal. You came, you wrote and you probably learned something about yourself. Maybe you’ll rock the challenge next year. Maybe you’ll successfully turn out a 3-Day Novel in September. Maybe it’ll take you ten years to write your magnum opus. Rock ‘n’ roll.
That’s right. Participation trophy. Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.
To all of you rockstars who found all 50K words: congratulations! You’re assholes and I hate you.
(Image @ JkNwt)