It’s Wednesday morning, November 1st. And I’m on my blog, rather than having a single word started for my novel. If you think this looks like it’s not a good sign, you’re right. It’s not.
Last night we went out for dinner to celebrate our Halloweenaversary (or, for those of you who don’t celebrate my made up holidays, the anniversary of our first date, which happened to be on Halloween). I decided not to stay up to start writing at midnight because by 11 I was already exhausted, and in a food coma from a too tasty dinner. I said I’d start first thing in the morning.
I woke up at 6. I went back to bed. It was cold. The bed was toasty. I would write better with more sleep, right?
I got up at 8:30, and it was gone. Gone. The story wasn’t in my head. The ambition to get it out on paper, missing. I had no drive. I had no inspiration. It was all GONE.
So of course my brain jumped to, “this was a stupid idea anyway!”
NO!!! I’m going to do this!!! I’ve been plotting for weeks! I’ve been wanting to for over a year! NO GIVING UP BEFORE I START!
So I went on Facebook. And I updated my cover photo and my profile pic to NaNo badges. If you tell everyone you’re doing something, you won’t walk away, right?
Then I had to get off Facebook because I set up these rules for myself. Rules to make me more productive starting November 1st. Like a 10 minute limit on Facebook, and I could only check it when I woke up, once in the afternoon, and once before bed. That limit also includes any scanning of trashy celebrity websites, any reading of the news that is not actually crucial for me to know, the sassy Suri’s Burn Book, Twitter, or Pinterest (unless I’m actually ON my NaNo Pin Board).
It turns out the only things I didn’t ban myself from on my Bookmark Bar include online banking (depressing), a job posting website (depressing), a blog one of my friends in the peace corp posts on when she gets internet in a small village in Africa (ever few months at most) and my blog. So, here I am. Maybe you’ll hear from me more than I expected in November.
I think that planning and plotting and turning this story over in my head for so many weeks has made it even HARDER to start, rather than easier. Now it’s daunting to get it down on paper correctly. Now the ability to put it all into prose just seems fleeting.
I will start. This morning. I promise. I might try the “get ready, quarantine yourself at Starbucks” method. Maybe that will help. When in doubt, bribe yourself with a pumpkin spice latte, right?
Right. Wish me luck.