So after my big kinda self-pitying pep talk post a few hours ago I sat down and made myself work on my Nano project, just to prove to myself once again that, yes, doing something does actually make me feel less like shit. I wrote another 3708 words. My stats tell me that if I write 1433 words per day, I will finish on November 30th 2015.
And that’s now my goal.
I had plans for this project to come in at around 60-80k words, and I might allow myself to go up to 60k. But honestly, it’s not just that I want this done quickly; it’s that I feel like there isn’t enough story to warrant using more than about 60k words. I think that I can tell this story, completely satisfactorily, in between 50 and 60k words.
And I’m shooting for 50k.
Less is more, and I’m not gonna get hung up on this or anything but, considering that this is already far more of a writing exercise than an actual earnest attempt to tell a story I care about, I may as well make it especially writing-exercise-y and put a solid word-limit on it. And since Nanowrimo has provided me with one anyway, I may as well take advantage of my situation. Limits foster creativity, folks. Have fun with it!
And I can’t wait for this story to be finished, for me to look back over it as not just some writing I did, but a book that I wrote. In a month. Kinda cheating, because I’d written 2/5ths of it before Nano started but, since I am trying to start a habit of being aggressively nice to myself, I don’t care if it’s cheating. At the very worst, I can say that this is the second novel that I finished within six or seven months, which is still pretty great – and I can objectively claim that this is the most words I’ve written for any of my stories in a single month. In fact I think that even if I didn’t write another word of this story for the rest of the month, that would still be true.
Anyway the point is that I’m finishing Nanowrimo this year and it feels good.
And this story, or writing-exercise-turned-story, still feels good. It feels like a story. A really predictable, iterative, cliche, problematic story, and that’s fine. That’s definitely acceptable, because what I’m shooting for – all I’ve ever shot for with this story – is that it gets written, and that it feels like it’s not just holding together but progressing. And it does. And it’s wonderful.
Maybe even progressing fast and concisely enough to finish at around 50k words. We shall find out soon.