There are many reasons this happened, of course, and lots of excuses I could give – many of them relevant and valid. but in the end it still comes down to one thing: I lost. The real reason for losing is simple.
I didn’t keep writing.
But I did reach half the goal and I did finish up with a strong beginning of a novel that might, one day, be worth reading – and that’s more than I had before NaNo started.
Read on for more about why I failed and, much more importantly, what I’ve learned.
Something different is happening for me in the lead-up to NaNoWriMo¹ this year.
I’m not looking forward to it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to do it, but the high-energy anticipation that gripped me in previous years is absent this time around. In its place is a hollow dread, a nervousness, a feeling that I might just flub the whole thing.
There’s always a little of that and, I suspect, a lot more writers have it than they might care to admit. There’s always the possibility that life will throw you a curveball and you’ll find yourself needing to abandon NaNoWriMo in favour of not having your life collapse around your ears. I’m not talking about that.
The month has come and gone with surprising speed. To be fair, though, that’s the nature of time.
As you’ll know if you read my previous post on the matter I’m a big fan of the (inter)National Novel Writing Month. It’s a hard slog at times and serves to illustrate exactly how much life can get in the way of writing but it’s almost always a rewarding experience. The benefits definitely, in my opinion, outweigh the disadvantages.
I can’t quite remember when I determined to go through with NaNoWriMo this year but I did, a fact that I’m glad of.