I would like to meet the person who decided that November would be the month when we do all the crazy-ass writing and blogging things we should have been doing the other 10 months of the year.
If you’ve spent any amount of time online, you know what I’m talking about.
Because, believe me, nothing in my life is more exciting than the idea of spending November writing the next bestseller and blogging every day so I can build that elusive writer’s platform. You know, accomplishing those New Years Resolutions that I set for myself (once again) on January 1.
So, you know I signed up for NaNoWriMo. AGAIN. Of course I did.
And a few minutes ago, I signed myself up for NaBloPoMo, too.
I am clearly under the influence of too many pumpkin spice lattes.
Because I can’t help myself.
The difference this year is that I’ve learned to make my peace with November, which I’ve learned to look at as a writing month. One huge, messy, kick-ass, let’s-see-what-you’re-capable-of writing month, in all its hyper-caffeinated, pumpkin-spiced glory.
Miss a few days of NaBloPoMo? So what? Fall short of 50,000 words on the manuscript? At the end of the day (and the month) what will it really matter? Who’s going to give a shit?
Life is so full of deadlines and pressures and other obligations that the only way I can survive November online is to play along, but with a healthy dose of reality at the outset. There’s no beating myself up for whatever lofty goals of my own volition I fail to accomplish because there is no failure in November.
Because whatever happens, I’ll still be ahead of my own game because any blogging and any novel writing done in November is a good thing, right? Whatever happens, happens.
(As soon as I get back from grocery shopping.)