There’s no “no” in Nanowrimo. Except for that one.

This is the worst possible time for me to be taking on more stuff to do.

I’m working two jobs, which only leaves me without a single day off every week (and that might go soon as well). The rest of the year is going to be all early mornings and no daylight and even less spare time. Participating in National Novel Writing Month is the absolute worst idea I could possibly come up with.

That’s why I’m doing it!

I’ve given it few tries over the years. I’ve failed every time. I was always too busy. But I was definitely less busy than I am now.

To “win” Nanowrimo, a work of at least 50,000 words must be completed during November. That breaks down to around 1,667 words per day. I type 80wpm on a bad day, and when I’m really up for it I can clear 100 easily. When I type it sounds like rainfall. If this were a typing challenge, I’d only need about 20 minutes a day.

It’s the thinking part that will defeat me. Except that it won’t because I’m going to do it this time. And this time, I have my little blue iBook. I already carry an enormous red messenger bag, what difference will a few pounds of antique laptop make in there?

If I can make up reasons to take on such a ridiculous challenge, I can totally make up a novel in a month. Just you wait and see. Except that I probably won’t show it to you because it’s bound to be terrible.


Missing out.

It’s been a long time since I’ve bought tickets to anything. I haven’t been to a show in yonks (at least two yonks, and I’m talking metric). It’s mostly a time thing.

I decided that I’d make time, and treat myself. I knew one of my favorite bands would be playing here some time in late October-ish, and since I’ve been so busy and tired all the time that I deserved a little present. I keep associating “experiencing stress” with “deserving presents”. But it hasn’t become a problem, because I enjoy presents.

I just didn’t have the presence of mind (see what I did there?) to act on this earlier, because the Morning Benders have come and gone. I hope it was well-attended and lovely.

The first track from their latest album, Big Echo, is exquisite. I reach for it all the time. If iTunes had speed dial, the biggest button would be assigned to Excuses.

And I’m stupid so I missed it. That stresses me out, so I think I’ll get something nice for myself.


Fear of a blank canvas and undeserved rewards.

I was never the kid to run through a field of freshly-fallen snow. I loathed the idea of ruining perfection.

That was very considerate of Young Me, and I’m sure untouched-snow enthusiasts the world over have appreciated my efforts over the years and my medal probably just got lost in the mail. But that strict self-forbidding has carried into terrible adulthood habits.

As a wannabe writer/artist/whatever-the-kids-are-dancing-to-these-days, I’ve owned a lot of notebooks over the years. The horrible thing is that I’ve never filled a single one of them. Most aren’t even half full.

It’s nothing unusual; fear of finishing something is the motor that runs procrastination, and we all know that Twitter and smartphones and that new rock music are wearing our attention spans down to coffee grounds, right? If we waste all our time doing silly little things, we’re free from the crushing responsibility of true, humongous, scary significance. I plan to turn this around, and my first step was buying a fancy new sketchbook.

And it’s all nostalgic and it cones with stickers!

Sure, it looks like an impulse buy, but it’s actually BRAVERY! A challenging new step in taking back control of my life or something to that effect! The catch is, I’m not letting myself touch a page of this beauty until I’ve exhausted all other resources. If I fill an entire page of one if my older current books every single day, I’ll be scribbling in my Pac-Man in less than two years!

This is my mission. And I’ll probably fail like every other time I’ve tried something like this. But it’s worth trying, and if nothing else, it was a fantastic excuse to buy a shiny new thingy.