And That's All I Have To Say About That

Today I hit the magical nanowrimo number, the magical number being 50,000. Although my draft (to steal from westcobich) is so rough it will draw blood, it is an AMAZING feeling to be here at the top of Mount-I-Wrote-A-Novel-This-Month-What-Did-You-Do-Oh-Yeah-Nothing.

I wrote when I was tired, I wrote when I was sick, I wrote when I didn't think I could type another word because I hated my story and I wanted a new one, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

I stayed home on weekends to get ahead, I wrote an astonishing 2300 words one night after work (I don't have much brain power after work, people). I had days where I wrote for an hour without pause, and nights where I managed to do a few word sprints (barely).

I learned that I am a writer. I can write. Creativity is such a small part of the process.... sitting down to write it out is the real part, the hard part, the actual work part. I learned what sacrifices have to be made to write. For example, this place that I live... looks like a habitat for monkeys. I haven't watched TV all month (okay I caught up on an episode of 30 Rock one night after I was really really far ahead). There wasn't a single night I let myself off the hook to not write that evening.

Now comes the fun part where I get to go back and look over what I've written so far and be (1) thankful for rewrites and (2) marvel at my awesomeness.

And next month, I'll be back to a semi-regular schedule of book reviews and the general randomness that is my life. Cheers.