NaNoWriMo project (more on that in a minute) but it means that another NaBloWriMo has come to an end and that I, once again, managed to blog all thirty one days October had to offer.
I'm a little blogged out and I'm sure y'all are sick of seeing me pop
up in your blog feeds. The good news for all involved is that while
I'm intending to scale things back to two or maybe three posts a week,
there's an excellent chance that I'm going to fall off the face of the
earth all together. Again.
So I'm a little bit surprised that I'm posting today. Maybe I shouldn't
be. Surprised, that is. I am, after all, procrastinating on my brand
spankin' new NaNoWriMo project and what better way to do that than to
write something else, right? As of the moment I'm typing this sentence,
the project in question is a whopping 544 words long (only 49,456 more
to go!). There's no plot, no set genre, and my main character doesn't
have a name but other than that I think it's going very well. It's
going to be interesting (possibly maddening) to see where this thing
goes because I honestly don't have any idea. I have absolutely nothing planned out.
In my previous NaNoWriMo years, I started with a main character (with
a name) and a genre. For example, the first year I wrote a chick
lit/romance novel which had certain elements I knew were needed.
Heroine? Check. Love interest? Check. Boy meets girl, boy loses
girl, boy gets girl back, boy and girl ride off into the sunset
together? Check, check, check and check. So while I didn't exactly
know how I was going to get there, I at least knew where there was. The
second year I wrote a YA urban fantasy about a sixteen year old demon
hunter so I knew there would be some demon fightin' scenes and a world
in peril plot which would eventually lead to a resolution where the
world is saved. So again, while I couldn't see the entire path to the
end, I still knew it was there and approximate where it was going. It's
that whole headlights at night metaphor.
But this year, I don't even know what I'm doing. This year, my
headlights are out completely. This year, I'm fumbling through the
woods and I don't have a working flashlight. I mean, it kind of feels
like a contemporary fiction piece, free of any supernatural elements and
set in an everyday place, but I'm only 544 words into the damn thing
and the only thought I had before I started was "I want to write unhappy
people" (as if I ever write anything else, I know) which lead to my
first line. There's still plenty of time for this thing to careen into
something completely different.
And you know what? I kind of can't wait for that to happen.