I’m Crazy. That’s It. I Must Be Crazy.

Really. Not content with lining myself up to write more short stories than I have, quite possibly, ever written in a short space of time before … I’m actually committing myself to writing a novel. I mean, I was already considering working on a novel, maybe at a much slower pace than usual, but … I’ve opened up a new Write or Die window. There is truly no turning back, now.

At around 11:54pm, shortly after posting my latest post (with the exception of this one), I decided to try my link to the NaNoWriMo website, to check that it did, indeed, work. I’ll bite. I haven’t exactly been checking the site regularly because I feel out of the practice of doing so, and if truth be told, I’ve been trying to suppress the novel I wrote in November, simply from being at a loose end with it. Yet, some gravitational pull led me to visit, and I soon found myself on a one-way journey to the all-inclusive holiday resort of Camp NaNoWriMo.

I might have mentioned in my earlier post that November is a successful month for me because of the looming pressure that having a deadline and an empty word counter imposes on me. There’s something about looking at that lonely little graph, and seeing stunted results; a day I haven’t been writing for, a slower pace than usual. I anticipate filling it up as quickly as possible and getting those results. It works, too.

So, to find myself without a graph or a word counter means that I write maybe one to two hundred words every few days or so. To find myself participating in Camp NaNoWriMo means that I am more likely to write, on average, between 5,000 and 10,000 on most days, slipping below the bar only when I’m feeling particularly drained, lazy, or tired. Considering I’m aiming at anything from 80,000 to 120,000 words for this project, there’s a good chance I’ll get the main brunt of it done within the next month or so.

I really will have to start questioning my sanity sometime soon, however. I have no idea why I choose to do these things to myself, I really don’t. Maybe I’m some kind of literary masochist, or something.

The kicker? This post clocks out at around 410 words. Those are 410 words of a novel I could have written in the past … oh, ten minutes, shall we say? I’m most definitely on a roll.

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