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  J M Beal

Holy crackers where did week two go?

11/14/2013

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I looked up today and realized it was time for me to write my week three pep-talk for Nano. Which (a) makes for a lovely thought when I've already spent more time on Nano tasks than actually writing today and (b) fills me with a sort of low-grade panic about the fact it's already freaking time to be talking about week three. 

Anyway, as tempting as it was for me to just regurgitate a pep-talk I've done previously for this weeks pep, I didn't do that. Instead I found one I wrote two years ago I'm going to regurgitate on here. It seemed fitting.

Happy week three, I'm sure we're all over-doing the panic. (O.o)



Week Three:

According to the Nano-calendar I downloaded before November, tomorrow is ‘River in Egypt day: 6000 words behind isn’t THAT much’.


Given the fact I’m falling rather depressingly behind on my personal goal, I thought that was fitting. How are the rest of you doing? Did you figure out I was lying about week two getting better as it went? I’ve been crossing my fingers all week that I was right, at least for a few of you.


The thing with week three is…It’s just broken. I’ve never had the same week three two years in a row. Some years it’s an easy glide, and I hit 50k ridiculously early and then finish the book by the end of the week and get to work on something else. One year I found out I was pregnant and didn’t write another word until the 25th. One year I wound up in the hospital at the end of it. This year I’m driving halfway across the country and probably not touching my computer again until the 27th when I get back…


Week three can be the quicksand that waits innocently under that patch of flowers. Just when you think you’re over the hump of week two…WHAM. Or gurgle…whichever seems more appropriate to you. It sucks your feet down and makes you wonder things like ‘but where’s all this going?’ and the dreaded ‘and why would anyone care?’

Questioning the validity of your writing or not, whatever you do, don’t stop! This isn’t the kind of quicksand that slows down when you stop moving. It only sucks you down faster. Write. Even if it’s pages and pages of ‘oh dear great spotted thing in the sky I don’t know what to write.’ Even if it hurts and you know it’s horrible and clearly there is something WRONG with you. Just keep doing it.

Comfort yourself with sunny thoughts of the tropical haven full of six-toed cats and palm trees you’ll get when you sell this monstrous thing (even if you’ve no intention of ever letting it see the light of day again) and keep writing. 



Remember, you can sleep in December. 

Jules


 


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