I went to bed before 10 last night and it was bliss. Woke up naturally at 6:30. The only bit of my dreams that I remember was hearing an Alan Thicke cover of a Cure song (I can’t remember which).
NaNoWriMo is coming up in a few days and, as usual, I am half-contemplating it, but am mighty sure that I will chicken out. Even if it doesn’t matter that the 50000 words can be pure drivel (and likely would be), I would still cringe. I still can’t edit my own work (as is clear from basically every error-filled post here) and I’m too scared to show my work to other people (which’ll make this weekend’s writing group meeting AWFULLY fun).
Also, and I’m not super proud of this, out of jealousy, like a 14-year-old with An Opinion, I have made fun of this thing in the past. Forcing people to write? RIDICULOUS! If I want to write a novel, I will do it in my own time! DOWN WITH THE MAN, MAAAAAAN.
Except I haven’t written a novel, not even a shit one. And probably won’t without some kind of kick in the arse.
So, What’s the harm? Aside from losing my mind a tiny bit because 1600+ words a day is very intimidating. I have a tiny inkling of a plot idea. Is that enough to go on?
What say y’all?