I'm through. Not Officially, since I've never done the Nano thing that way. It's too much information and too much connectedness for me.
Instead, I've chosen to look at the National Novel Writing Month, November, loaded as it is with hidden traps such as Thanksgiving and getting bogged down by teaching ideas --- like the sudden decision, after acquiring, say, a new textbook that's just so wonderful that I can't resist or realizing that Excel 2010 is no longer even remotely amenable to the class syllabus that already exists, to completely overhaul one of my classes and simultaneously producing all of the new lectures on Powerpoint, and all this just before the semester begins --- breathes deep, it's all okay, really --- as just a way to get the lead out and truly tackle one of the writing or editing projects at or near the top of my list.
What this entails is, of course, still a stressful situation, even if Unofficial, because, let's face it, trying to write 50K in a month or even 40K or, say, do a complete edit of a novel of 138K is going to kick the normal non-paranormal type individual with only modest talents (moi) into a mode that I can only characterize as Space Captain.
It doesn't start out that way. But it ends up that way.
I chose to edit the third book in my Schattenreich fantasy series, Double-Couple, of said 138K length. I accomplished this in 11 days plus or minus a few hours, but it required a couple of near-all-nighters. But then I realized, hey, The November is only half done. We're not stressed out yet, are we? Nooooooo. Okay, let's do it again. So I did. It felt really good, Samantha Stallone jogging up those stairs punching the air good (er.....never mind). But only for about maybe thirty minutes. And then it hit me. My family is walking around with permanent frowns on, reminding me to change my underwear, the empty toilet paper roll, to push myself away slowly, from the keyboard. Hell, even the cat is sulking.
So now, yes, I am Officially wrung out, walking around like the Football Zombie in Plants and Zombies after he's lost his helmet (or better yet, Bucket Zombie without the bucket - how pathetic is that?) Therefore, the post for writers on how to handle Space Captain mode from Ruth Harris (Anne Allen's blog partner) that landed in my inbox two days ago (I only just now got around to reading it, dammit!), was a great relief.
It really is okay to admit to not having paranormal powers of my own. That I'm walking around wanting to eat someone else's braaaaains because mine is shriveled and shivering inside my cranium. That even emptying a few laundry baskets is a task that seems beyond me. So I'm going for chocolate, sports, and a good novel, and doing something nice for those I love, but not all at once.
Goodbye, Nano, until next year!
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