Today is the final day of that annual writing rumble, NaNoWriMo. Many writers have passed the hurdle and already collected their winners’ goodies. They have ordered their winner’s T-shirt and are embarking on revisions.
Many other writers are scrambling to get that final thousand words written, the words that will reach the golden ring of 50,000 words before midnight tonight.
Others have decided that they are never going to finish, it’s a waste of time, and they’ll never do this again.
But they will.
They will come back in a year or two with a plan and they will beat those inner demons that block our creative mind and keep us from succeeding.
This year, I have so far written over 90,000 words. I’ve expanded my novel some, written many short stories and vignettes. I’ve written poems that made me happy, and also chugged out a great many words that will never see the light of day.
But buried deep within the rubbish are some good words, words that are useful and make me happy.
I’ve been participating in NaNoWriMo since 2010. This annual burst of word-spewing has forced me to become disciplined. It makes me do what is for me the most difficult thing—I have to ignore my inner editor to get my wordcount. By November 30th, the little voice that slows my productivity down and squashes my creativity is numb and has accepted that no one is listening.
For that reason alone, I will most likely always “do” NaNoWriMo, even when I am no longer able to be a Municipal Liaison.
I love the rush, the thrill of having written something for myself, something that I alone will see and enjoy. But more than that, I love knowing that some of what I have written is good and is worthy of submission.
Perhaps one or more of these short stories will be accepted by a contest or magazine. Perhaps one of these little jewels will see the light of day and make a reader happy too.