Yes, you heard right.
I quit. I give up. I’m done.
Each year, in November, in the midst of everything else I have going on, I foolishly look to the interwebs and choose to participate, along with many others, in the National Novel Writing Month project.
And every year, for the past four, I have failed to complete the NaNoWriMo, or NaNo for even shorter, challenge of 50,000 words in 30 days.
Why do I attempt it, knowing my plate is already piled too high for one more project? I eventually finish the projects I start, so I supposed it’s not a complete loss.
But as I read through my current project, I realize that forcing the story is just not working. The words don’t flow and absolutely nothing has happened in my story. No peril, no adventure, just conversations. When did I stop writing fantastical stories and start creating the follow up to My Dinner With Andre?
With less than six days left and more than 23K to go, I have come to terms with the fact that I have begun another story that will take longer than one month to complete.
Of course, now that I’ve thrown in the towel, I fully expect my muse to bounce around like a kid on a sugar high at around 2am.