I’ve done a lot of write a novel in a month challenges. By a lot, I mean six.
Six is quite a lot though.
I’ve not failed one (yet). I’ve had a baby in the middle of one. I’ve looked after small children through them all and I’ve had a relationship breakdown while writing about everything that’s wrong with social media – that’s a lot of stuff to throw at a person.
These things were not the hardest moments.
The hardest moments came as we entered day 11.
Day 11 with its doubts, day 11 with its sudden hatred of every single word penned (typed) so far, day 11 with its “You’re not even 20k in, you could start again…”
Day 11 is the most debilitating feeling, as if everything you’ve completed thus far is crap and must be deleted and forgotten, post haste.
I’m there now. I’m looking at my “novel” and hating my characters. I’m wondering how they’ve managed to get so lost, how their personalities have become warped and twisted. I’m worried that the book isn’t what I thought it would be and I’m thinking about killing them all off to introduce a much cooler superhero.
The thing is, having done so many of these things, I know this is entirely normal. I know I can ignore the nagging, pull my head out of my backside and get the fudge on with it. I know I can drive this car to the 50k finish line, even if the power steering has stopped working and the clutch has worn to nothing.
Day 11, I will beat you.
Why I write. - The M… on A storyline Why I write. - The M… on The Accidental Novel deskmonkeymummy on A not-so-FAQ for #britmumsLive… Susan Mann on A not-so-FAQ for #britmumsLive… deskmonkeymummy on Sanity is a friend away.