I haven’t posted recently because, well, because I’m ridiculously lazy. And it’s been ridiculously hot here in Estonia, which only contributes to my laziness. Excuses, excuses. I always have a plethora of them waiting in the wings.
I mentioned on Twitter but never got around to updating here that I managed to “win” Camp NaNoWriMo in July. I had a late start. My parents didn’t leave until the 11th or so of July and since I was traveling so much, there wasn’t a whole lot of manageable writing time available to me. (See, more excuses!)
In June when Chris invited me to join a private cabin with a few other selected writers (who also won by the way, because they are amazing), I had a few reservations such as ‘Can I actually do this?’ and ‘Damn, I’m going to be so busy next month, too.’ Not to mention that I still hadn’t forgotten the failed attempt at Camp NaNoWriMo in April when I had an even smaller goal than the one I was aiming for in July. I think I managed all of 800 words and those were accidentally deleted, so I was technically going backwards, if that’s possible.
kind of extremely stubborn, and I actually work best when I’m pressured, and despite my innate ability to prolong and avoid writing what I’m supposed to be writing, I don’t actually like to lose. So when I accepted the invitation and set my goal for 30,000 words, I decided no matter what miraculous, terrible crap I managed to write for it, I would meet that goal. Perfectionist Michelle was appalled, but I was getting tired of her anyway.
I started writing toward the 16th or so. I didn’t post an updated word count until I had written about 8,000 words, and that wasn’t until the 20th-ish. Then I started writing about 3,000 words a day. The way I was going, I’d have gone way over my goal, actually. But then the usual happened: I got tired of the pacing, the forced effort I was making, and I took about four or five days off. On July 31, I still needed almost 9,000 words to reach my goal. So I did what any normal expert procrastinator does. I waited until about five hours before the end of Camp NaNoWriMo before I started to write, and after that, being well aware that the clock was ticking, I zoomed through those 9k words until I thought my fingers would fall off and my brain would explode and that the world might actually end from the utter nonsense I was typing into existence.
Needless to say, I made it . . . barely. And though my success was somewhat dubious and the words I wrote probably all need to be thrown into the incinerator, I still finished a task, a challenge, that had to do with writing. Though I think I’ve grown a lot as a writer this past year alone, that’s the first time I’ve done that in almost four years.
And, admittedly, it felt good.