November was supposed to be NaNoWriMo; National Novel Writing Month. I had plans. I was gonna do it this year. I was gonna cheat, but I was gonna do it. See, I’ve already got something along the lines of 30,000 words worth of rough draft and notes to work from, an a fairly sizable catalog of ideas floating around which haven’t been written anywhere. The goal for NaNo is 50,000… So I was already three-fifths of the way there before I even started.
Then something happened, right around the eighth of November that… Let’s just say I got distracted.
It’s the 17th now. I think most of the shock has worn off, though waves of looming dread still wash over me occasionally. But the bulk of the despair has been replaced with resigned sighs and fits of nihilistic laughter.
I’m in a good place, is what I’m saying, so I think I can refocus. Reset. Get back to a place similar to where I was in October. Excited and energized and ready to write.
There’s 30 days in November, which makes us 53% of the way through as of last night; but I’m already about 60% of the way to the word count goal… Because I’m a dirty cheater. But that’s alright. Morality tied a cinderblock around its own neck and jumped into a lake, dragging principles down with it; that’s what November has taught me.
So, hope is not lost, math is on my side. The world is broken, but at least now I can break the rules with a clear conscience!
So, refocus, Adam. Reset.