So this is a tale of how Camp NaNoWriMo Day One, July 2017 edition, went down. Otherwise known as, I shit you not!
The day started luxuriously slow, as muggy humid days off tend to. But by eight thirty I was showered and dressed, then I headed out for breakfast before I did some much-needed grocery shopping.
The grocery shopping was the horrid start of it all. I was completely uninspired and ended up coming home with nothing that I wanted to eat. Because, even being hungry, I didn’t want anything to eat. I could have bought out the entire store inventory and still not make it home with something I wanted to eat.
Then, for reasons already discussed in my part one post, I spent the majority of my day in a foggy female funk with no way out. I tried resting, couldn’t get comfortable enough. I tried eating, no appetite. I tried listening to music for energy, couldn’t stand it.
So, as we all do, I gave in. I made myself a pot of instant mashed potatoes, popped open the experimental bottle of sake I bought on my depressing grocery excursion, and let the hormonal depression roll all over me.
I even wrote the part one post, totally convinced that I was done for the day with nothing to contribute to my novel but blandness. Which is the most painful thing I have experienced as a writer.
Then came the thunder.
No literally, ish. I suppose first came the annoying blare of a flash flood warning from my phone which freaked me out. Then as I sat in my kitchen the sky just opened up wide and let it all out. Sheets of rain so thick my normally unobstructed view of downtown was gone.
Meteorologically I know better, but I told myself quite convincingly that this thunderstorm was just here for me. To wash out all the bullshit and get me feeling like myself again. And…I shit you not…something happened.
I might have been the thimble full of sake on my lightweight system, or it might have been fate. But I turned four hundred painfully written words into 1,800 words without a second thought. By eleven, I was curled up in bed completely accomplished.
Honestly, if I could duplicate the miracle that was Saturday night, I would never worry about finishing a novel ever again. But as Sunday proved, it comes and it goes. I think I got out a little less than 200 words before deciding my time was better spent recharging my brain with sleep than fighting futilely for a few more words.
Still in the game though. Got a nice early start in this lovely morning of day three. Let’s see what it brings!