Still running the NaNoWriMo marathon, and at 40,500 words I can see the finishline on the horizon (and for this, I am thankful).
Actually, I am most thankful for the whole experience of NaNoWriMo. For reals, yo — if you have it in you (the desire), I say to you: DO IT. Just… you know.
This has been such a worthwhile experience in and of itself. I would explain why — but I’m plum out of words. And I feel perfectly justified in leaving it at that. But I will say this:
I’m in love.
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I talk about.
It’s all I dream about.
When I’m not writing, I wish I were.
It’s not always easy — there are rough patches, sure.
Sometimes we fight, my novel and I, but we always make up.
(Sometimes I have to do all the work; sometimes I just sit back, and it takes over.)
It’s a give and take. I learn about myself, I learn about it —
–Shit, this is good lovin’.
The only foreseeable problem is that I’m beginning to have a difficult time differentiating between reality and fiction. The other day I started referring to characters in my novel as if they were real people:
“That’s so funny!” I said enthusiastically to a friend as we were discussing our holiday favorites, “Catherine’s favorite kind of pie is pecan, too! What a coincidence!”
“Who’s Catherine?” He asked, eyebrows arched in question.
“You know — oh, sorry,” I bowed my head in embarassment. “Catherine. My protagonist. For this, novel-thing I’m writing. Catherine… Yeah… She, um, likes pecan pie too…”
“Hunh,” he responded, and suddenly remembered he had to leave.
* * * * * * *
HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!
