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  J M Beal

What's wrong with February...

9/11/2013

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So. It's a list, right? It's a short month that means strange paycheck schedules. Here in the Northern Hemisphere it's cold and wet/snowing/evil. Valentines. Maybe you have a severe phobia of Groundhogs and therefore hate February 2nd... (apparently for animals all phobias are grouped as Zoophobia, but I got that off the internets so take it with a grain of salt).

Personally, my biggest problem with February is the fact it's two months after Nano ends. Come December 1st my creative batteries are so broken I couldn't string five sensible words together, and then it's Christmas (I'm sure you can insert your winter holiday of choice here and they all cause the same thing) and I'm cooking/making/chicken-running. Then it's January 15th and I haven't taken the decorations down yet and just the thought of trying to write makes me want to burrow down for another epic six-season watch of Doctor Who.

And then, inevitably, there's this moment in the first week of February where all the stars align and I start writing again...and three weeks later I've crossed the 100k mark and I've forgotten how to talk to people who don't exist inside my head. I know, embarrassment of riches, blah blah blah. I could be all humble about how awesome it is to write that much, but I don't really see the point. I'm not pretending what I'm writing when I go that fast is better than a decently trained monkey with a type-writer.

Anyway, the point. When the writing binge happened in February this year, I let it go a little long in the tooth, and suddenly decided that for Camp Nano in April I could totally write an entire trilogy in one month. It wouldn't even be that hard, aim for about 60k a book and at the end of April I'd be at 180k with an entire trilogy drafted. Awesome, right?

I'll wait for the crazed, incredulous laughter to stop. You have a point.

We'll avoid the gory details. I did manage all of book one (It's around 75k) and all of book two (60k) and the first two chapters of book three. And some of that was good. Really good, like forget I'm supposed to be paying attention in the re-read good. I'm focusing on that, who cares if I lost the entire point of the plot arc somewhere in the middle of book two, I found it again. Sort of. 

And then it took me four months to finish book three. 

I'm sure about now you're wondering why I'm telling you this, because yay for me and all but what's this mean for you? I'm calling it an example. Most of us sit down to do something giant and we freak out. We crack the surface and go "Holy crap what was I THINKING!" And there was absolutely a lot of that. Several times over. Five months, three or four emergencies, two massive trips, and three books later I've come to a conclusion. It's over-simple and glaringly obvious. 

You'll never know what you can do, unless you try. Go forth my little Whistle-Pigs. Try.
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