I’m not doing National Novel Writing Month. But it is November, and I’m committing to a daily writing session. This morning, for instance, I managed to get out about 1200 words before work. I might get a few more tonight, but that will depend on variables. There are a lot of variables in life, and that’s the reason I’m not committing to the 1667 words a day that participation would require of me. Yesterday, for instance, I think I got out about 600 words. Tomorrow? I might not get many. But it won’t be none.
I need to write. It’s not just for the money, although that’s important to me right now. My writing income is being poured into paying off student loans, and the idea that I can accelerate that process and then turn my earning power to saving towards buying a house is just really exciting. So I write. But writing is also an important part of my creative process. Drawing and visual art makes me happy, but I’ll never be a great artist. I’m not sure I’m a great writer, but it’s less important there. I can write a fun story that makes people happy, and to me that’s great. If that makes sense: I have no literary aspirations. I just want to make people enjoy their reading time when my name is on the cover. That’s the sum of my aspirations.
I’m aspiring to write a novel, again, and then another, and another… and I’ve already done it seven times, so it’s not like this is terra incognito. It was when I took part in NaNoWriMo back in 2011 to complete what was a short story originally, and wound up with Vulcan’s Kittens to publish in 2012. And it is a great exercise if you’re new to writing, or you find the accountability necessary to momentum. Which last is where I’m at, and why I put the progress bars up on the website. So you all can come make comments at me if you don’t see that sucker moving. Or not. I’m not exactly going to be in-your-face about this process, other than on the blog. I haven’t been terribly active on social media and am likely to get less so as time wears on. I just don’t have time. I have good friends I chat at – and I really ought to email some people and check to see if they are ok – but otherwise, I’m just shouting into the abyss.
Blogging may be boring, and tedious, and whatever, but it is an effective form of permission marketing. I get permission from you to talk at you in the form of these posts, and if you’re not in the mood, or you’re too busy, or I’m just too tedious for words, you don’t have to come. It’s sort of like a book club, only with less book discussion.
Although we could chat about what we’re reading. Only I have odd tastes. But if you’d be interested, I could talk about the series I’ve been ploughing though this last week. It’s terribly good fun, a murder mystery series set in Laos in the late 1970s and the main character is a septuagenarian (I think I spelled that right) and it’s witty and wry. Just up my alley.
Anyway. I’m off to work and things. And yes, going to write some more. Even if I’m not doing NaNo, stopping so close to the daily quota doesn’t make sense, does it?