Motivation fled me today, leaving me deflated like the proverbial balloon from which all the air has escaped. I’ve forced myself to write, and it’s not been bad, but so far has not been quite able to fully shake this feeling. It’s not really associated with NaNoWriMo as such; it’s Real Life intruding, as it is wont to do.
Still, a little over 7000 words in. I’ve reached a rather dull point of the story, and I’m trying to make it more interesting, even for just my own sake, but once again I have to remind myself that NaNoWriMo is all about getting the words down and not worrying about how good they are. Cleaning up can come later.
I’ve been giving a little thought to what I will do with this novel once November is over and/or it’s finished. Besides the obvious revision and rewrites… will I pursue publication? Will I just file it away as a lovely distraction for a month with no serious intent? Will it, in the end, have been “worth it”?
I’m going to spend the rest of this evening in mindless computer game entertainment, as right now I don’t want to think much.