I should just be writing my book, but instead, I’m writing this. I know how much y’all care about my progress and I hate leaving you in the dark, my stalkers.
Last week sucked. In every conceivable category or quantifier of suck, it was off the charts. I hope I never meet another week like it. I have a deadline every month and a half or so at my job. Generally, I know what it is well ahead of time. Every other time my deadline has been moved, which is most of them, it’s been moved back. “Hey, congratulations! You have another week to get your work done!” Yay! Not this time. This time, my deadline was pushed forward by two weeks. Two weeks less time to do my job. Now, that’s awesome.
So, yeah, I was a little busy, a little stressy and a little bit homicidal. And right in the middle of week of suck, NANoWriMo started. Excellent timing. But, as I discussed last week, it couldn’t hurt to try. It never hurts to try, unless you’re trying to hurt yourself. Then it might hurt. Generally speaking though, trying isn’t considered a painful thing.
I tried. I wrote 1,312 the first day. Wooo! Then I wrote nothing on the second day, the third day and the fourth day. Deadline, don’t you know. Finally, the fifth day fell on a Saturday–the Saturday after I actually made my deadline with an hour and a half to spare, because I rule.
There’s no reason not to write on a Saturday morning, so I did. I wrote another 2,731 words, doubling the amount of words that I wrote on the first day. Go me! Except for the fact that I’m still behind and falling farther behind with every passing day. Now, here we are on day 8 and my stats look something like this:
Damn, those stats are evil. How is that encouraging? I suppose, if you actually don’t have deadlines and every day is a Saturday morning, it might be really nice to see that you’re on or above par, but for the rest of us, struggling to find an hour here or an hour there of uninterrupted writing time, well, that sucks.
I refuse to allow their discouraging stats to discourage me. At this rate, as much as I hate to admit it, I probably won’t finish my book by the end of the month. I just don’t have the time right now. It sounds like a lousy excuse–it is a lousy excuse–but there you have it. I’m going to keep trying though. Even if I don’t manage to finish in time, I’ll still be farther along on this book than I was in October. Take that, NaNoWriMo, ya bastards.
Update to the Update
I wrote some more tonight, so now I’m no longer desperately far behind; I’m just very far behind. At least I’ll finish in January now. Sadface.
Fish Of Gold 