One Week, 8,968 words, Meh.

Let me start out by saying the “meh” doesn’t have to do with the story. It’s all about the number of words.

In fact, I am in love with my story. I had to stop writing earlier than usual today because I needed to vote before work (go vote, people!) and as I was putting breakfast together I felt bad about leaving my girls hanging. They feel suspended in reality somehow, waiting for me to turn the page or, more appropriately, write the next page.

My “meh” addresses my effort lately. I feel bad for taking days off from writing. I know, logically, it’s silly to feel that way. There are some days where I write two or three days’ worth, and there are some days when I don’t write anything. It comes out in the wash.

There’s also the logic that it’s okay if I don’t “win” NaNoWriMo. I’m still writing my butt off and getting good stuff on paper. Sure, half those darlings will be killed, but that’s the process.

And finally, there’s the logic that I’m not actually doing NaNoWriMo in the truest sense. I was 20k words into my novel when it started, and I’m using NaNo as a push to get it done.

But still. There’s the looming deadline and insane word count over my head. This is one of those instances where I need to treat myself the way I’d treat a fellow writer and say:

“Almost 9000 words of a story you really love? Way to go girl! Keep it up!”

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