I am indebted to the people at Chris Baty and The Office of Letters and Light for inventing this fantastic ... thing. And especially for sticking it in the month of November. Because the more focused I am on writing a novel, the less time I have to moan and groan about my upcoming birthday. Before I know it, November 6th has passed and I am a year older, but I am unable to whine about it because I'm in the throes of writer's block. Awesome.
I have only attempted NaNoWriMo three times. Once in 2004, when I kicked noveling BUTT; last year, when I killed myself to finish the stupid thing and I did, but I hate the story and I will never look at it again so long as I live, and this year. Thus far, this is shaping up to be a lot like last year. I'm already behind on my word count and it's only day two. And obviously I am looking for any distraction I can find to avoid staring at the crap on my word processor.
I like my story idea for this year. I just wish it was easy to barf out onto the page. Remind me to write someday about how fixing my mental illnesses killed my creativity. It's worth the sacrifice, but it still sucks.
November 6th. Quarter of a century. Gulp. Let's not think about it - back to noveling!