The road trip is over. I’m home and, although exhausted from all the driving, was willing to suffer more fanny fatigue for the sake of Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve now completed 6,080 words, almost 3,000 more since my last post. At this rate, I will make my 50k mark by May 28. However, if I write 1,830 words a day, I’ll finish end of this month.
Some might say that should be easy. Just write, even if it’s garbage, it’s the number of words that count. We write during NaNoWriMo; we edit later. But I’m thinking (and not terribly clearly at the moment), that the more my novel makes sense now, the less editing (or interpreting) I’ll need to do later. Of course, I have yet to edit the novel I wrote in November. Truth be told, I didn’t even finish it. I wrote over 50,000 words, and then abruptly stopped. What I thought was a few days’ break has now been a few months’ break.
But, gee, I’ve never had two novels in the cooker before. I’ve always been a short-story writer. While I love to read novels, I’ve always distrusted my ability to sustain an interest in writing novel-length stories. I find that very interesting: I love the slower pace of novels (at least the ones I read) where settings and characters come alive, where the novelist takes the time to describe the smell of snow or the main character’s fondness for cream sherry. But when I try to write like that, the voice at the back of head is practically screaming “Boring!” But that’s the beauty of NaNoWriMo (Camp or otherwise): The deadline helps me ignore that annoying voice.
So, I’ll try to persevere. Maybe I’ll even finish this novel.