Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Sweet Seven.

 This old coworker of mine used to run marathons all the time.  It had gotten to the point where she did not even train for them.  She would just wake up on marathon morning and run 26.2 miles and then go get herself a beer.

NaNoWriMo has become my marathon without the calorie burning.  Any time I mentioned that I was writing a novel people would exclaim how impressed they were and I felt like it was undeserved, because it did not feel like work.

I have done this so much that it is just muscle memory and blind faith.

Except I almost did not make it this year.  Because I made a plan and that was a stupid.

Many of my friends require some sort of structure before the go out on this journey.  I gave it a go with the structure and then 20,000 words in I realized I hated it, but I could not go anywhere else.  In years past I have just let the story lead and I've followed behind madly tying and trying to catch up to my thoughts.

Having a plan made me feel trapped and suffocated and it was almost my downfall.  Like if you tried to run a marathon in different shoes.  Terrible idea.  And it made me think that it was going to be much easier than years past.  "With a plan," I pondered, "it'll all be worked out and I'll just need to write.

Wrong.  Again.

Also, mid month (when I get most of my writing done) my boss decided to leave on an impromptu trip to Africa which made my "real work" load much heavier, and Boyfriend and I both came down with weird stomach things (for me) made everything painful and terrible (not a particularly productive mood).

I found some really useless ways to procrastinate this year.  Including trying to make videos of my cat playing with a hair tie.  Except she refused to cooperate, so they are just videos of her looking at me confused.  No. seriously.

At any rate, its all done once again.

All the thanks go out to:

McKim. If someone is going to drag your ass to the finish line, it should probably be someone with pluck and spunk and who is so far ahead of you it makes it seem like you're never going to get there.  Thanks for being the holy trinity, McKim.

The folded out couch bed. I spent most of thanksgiving break there.  I do not regret it.

Boyfriend. For food and yelling (both of which sustained me through the last few thousand words).

Kathy P. I needed a writing buddy and she was totally up to the task.  It was such a game changer to have someone sit with me in the cafe and be writing too.  We maybe would have gotten more done if had not spent quite so much time catching up, but even still - it was a productive day with delicious coffee drinks.

T-Bone. For giving me all the excuses I needed to put off the beginning.  Good procrastination takes work, people.

Prosciutto and mozzarella on English muffins. Yes, please.

Weird chocolate-y Chex mix boyfriend made.  I have eaten at least 4 pounds of the stuff and it still looks like the bag is half full.  Clearly there are some dark powers at work here.

Guys.  Next year? 1,667 words every day.  I mean it.  Will some one please hold me to this?

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She's pint-sized and amazing.