I wish I were born in October. That would really top off the already innate awesomeness of this month nicely.
As it stands, October is still the best month of all in my not at all humble opinion. You’ve got the first real whiffs of fall here in Maine after the constant menopausal changes of weather in September (is it summer or is it a light winter?). The leaves start to brighten, and if you are of the poetic inclination and can look past the dying part of the process (I’m looking at you Dorothy) in the Northeast it is downright magical. Then there is the big one, the one even all the adults start to squirm in excitement at even if they can’t admit it. Halloween. Candy, bright decorations, and the all-encompassing excuse to embrace your more morbid thoughts and put them on display.
As writers though, we have another Holiday to celebrate, NaNoWriMo. Love it, hate it, or look at it jealously from afar. This is what a lot of us live for once the first of October hits and the site finally goes live as you scramble to update your new baby novel for the first time. The air is not only crisp and fragrant, but filled with all the promise and possibility that maybe this year you will walk away a victor. This could be the year all your creative ambitions are validated and you finally pass the first stage of becoming a published novelist. And no matter how many years you’ve fallen flat on your fact and looked at your blank page with contempt, every October it’s the same story. Even I, who so surely declared that I was not participating in NaNoWriMo last year, had to eventually bow my head in shame and retract my former statement.
No such thing this year, I am trumpeting loud and proud for several valid reasons. The first being that I have already had one personal writing victory this past April, and am now rabidly hungry for another taste of that sweet success. The second being my new situation in life, which is a rather large and hugely positive change all in all. For one thing I am out of retail, which essentially loses its mind once mid-October hits and there is no brain space left to even begin to think like anything other than an automaton. My new job is so mellow it’s like the difference between an active war zone and a graveyard. And the bonus perks that come with this glorious change are thus.
I work neither Thanksgiving nor Black Friday while still getting paid. Not even Black Saturday which is actually worse in many cases for retail. In fact, I have a four day weekend where I can do nothing but drink coffee and write.
My new job is so flexible that I can take reasonable time off when needed, and with an unheard of (at least to me) hour long lunch that’s enough to at least knock out five hundred words even with too much ambient noise being a thing. Who knows? Maybe I can even get November first off so I can participate in the midnight launch!
Not really attached to this recent change, but I still live on my own and have the great luck to be able to come home to write when I want and leave whatever mess I want without bugging anyone but myself.
So yeah, there is a very good chance that I could finally emerge the triumphant victor this year and beat that 50,000 word goal soundly. With due diligence this month to prepare both my habits and my personal habitat, then absolute discipline in November where I push myself every day to do my very best, there is an excellent chance I might have a finished final draft to sell by this time next year. A stretch maybe, but all I know is it’s got to happen sometime. And I’m not stopping until every story in my head has been satisfactorily told, or I die. You know whichever comes first.
Now the question remains, which of my very precious babies I should choose?