Tall Drink of Nerd: Trampled by the Rhino
I’m so sorry that I don’t have a blogumn for you today. I’m currently under the Rhino. It’s day 15 of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and I have, for some reason I can’t recall (which now seems crazy), decided to write a novel in one month. This madness is known in our house as ‘Nano Rhino’, due to my mumbling and my husband’s hearing affected by sinus allergies. My life has been overwhelmed by a tiny rhino.
At this halfway point, I am convinced that I am probably the worst writer in the world. At 23,162 words (almost halfway to the challenge of 50,000 for the month), I am spent. I have been averaging about 2,000 words a day and my brain is having a hard time with the English language. I have never been so hyper aware of how many words I am typing in my entire life. About 5 minutes after I wrote this paragraph, I got a pep-talk email from the NaNoWriMo team that stated “at this point in the process, you might be thinking you are the worst writer in the history of the world.” It’s a psychic tiny rhino!
The goal of NaNoWriMo is to get writers writing. If it wasn’t for deadlines, I doubt I’d ever get anything done. The challenge of 50,000 words in a month allows precious little time to think and no time to edit. It also gives you no time to futz around online or really any other distraction. Oh, but I have found myself procrastinating, like writing this blog or feeding the cats in the middle of the day or IMing with my sister for way too long. The one thing I excel at is futzing.
Thing is, I imagined the writer’s life as glamorous. I would sit in various quirky cafés, tapping at my adorably adorned keyboard as a soft breeze gently, playfully lifted the silk scarf draped romantically about my shoulders. I didn’t envision that I would be sitting in my PJ’s with greasy hair, glasses still on, trying to breathe life into a metaphor for hospital food. My imagination is evil to create such a high vision of a writerly life. But that vivid imagination is entirely the reason I want to write.
In spite of an aching head caused by having my brain caught in a stampede of plot, character, conflict, blah and blah blah, I’m enjoying this torture. That’s mostly because I’m actually writing (which is the hardest part of writing, cheeks to chair). I love that little high I get after reaching a daily goal. Even if it’s unreadable, which I’ll find out when I re-read it on December 1st, it’s generated content. By November 30th, my first draft will be done. Then I can revise, rewrite, get an agent, publish, sign the movie rights, be the guest on Oprah’s second to last show and start working on my second novel at a quirky local café in my new silk scarf.
But now I have to get back to my novel. I still have 1,838 words to generate today to get to the halfway point. Soon, I’ll be on top of this project and riding the tiny rhino across the finish line.
featured image credit: rachel a. k.