A Funny thing happened enroute to the finish line
Sunday midday. I had written a thousand words in an hour and would crank out another nineteen thousand before the day was out. If this proved impossible, I still had two days to make the word count.
My story was moving forward; I was getting closer to the characters. Saturday, I had the plot along; Sunday I began to consider how I would weave in stuff from the earliest scenes.
As seasoned Nanowrimists predicted, past the halfway point, things started to go better. Then things got weird. Somehow in the excitement of uploading my latest version, I managed to submit it twice, accidentally doubling my total.
"You're a winner," flashed the Nanowrimo screen. Should I take the certificate and run? Of course not. It would defeat my purpose in doing this exercise, and it would be unethical.
I'm sure Isabel Dalhousie would approve of my finishing anyway. After all, I made the free and open promise. My reason was neither the flashing congratulations on the screen, nor the certificate. It was the learning that results from taking on a challenge like this.
At the SIWC in October, Ivan Coyote told a room full of writers "You are your own worst enemies. You are the ones who have to overcome procrastination." My head agreed with this sentiment; now at the end of Nanowrimo, my whole body knows it's true.
The last night was killer tough because I let too much work pile up for too little time. But I made it. Under the wire at 11 pm. I earned my certificate. I'll print it off tomorrow.
My story was moving forward; I was getting closer to the characters. Saturday, I had the plot along; Sunday I began to consider how I would weave in stuff from the earliest scenes.
As seasoned Nanowrimists predicted, past the halfway point, things started to go better. Then things got weird. Somehow in the excitement of uploading my latest version, I managed to submit it twice, accidentally doubling my total.
"You're a winner," flashed the Nanowrimo screen. Should I take the certificate and run? Of course not. It would defeat my purpose in doing this exercise, and it would be unethical.
I'm sure Isabel Dalhousie would approve of my finishing anyway. After all, I made the free and open promise. My reason was neither the flashing congratulations on the screen, nor the certificate. It was the learning that results from taking on a challenge like this.
At the SIWC in October, Ivan Coyote told a room full of writers "You are your own worst enemies. You are the ones who have to overcome procrastination." My head agreed with this sentiment; now at the end of Nanowrimo, my whole body knows it's true.
The last night was killer tough because I let too much work pile up for too little time. But I made it. Under the wire at 11 pm. I earned my certificate. I'll print it off tomorrow.