I am living in a post NaNoWriMo ecstasy. So far I managed to participate four times, every other year. I always take a year break between projects, not because I want to, but because it works out this way. Every year I feel like I don't have the time, every other year I say I will try anyway.
And once I sign up, I can't fail. My first year was when I was pregnant, it felt good and I had so much time (which I didn't know back then)! I probably assumed that after having the baby I will just publish a book, too, because being pregnant makes you believe many things..
My second year was writing with a toddler. I was keeping up well, somehow, but didn't write daily. Instead, I did bursts of writing every 2 or 3 days. At the end of the month I was taken by inspiration and I wrote a lot, even though I still had few days to go, so there was no stress. I just felt the story building and wanted to put it down. My husband was home that day, working from home, and our little one was wondering from one to the other. And when she was at my husbands's study, she stood on a stool, fell off and ended up falling on a toy she held. She cried, but children fall and cry, so I did my best to console her. And she seemed better, then she had a nap, which I spent sitting next to her, writing. I finished my project, child woke up and cried again. That wasn't like her, we decided to go to the hospital because she seemed unhappy and her hand was the issue although nothing was obviously wrong. We found out she broke a little bone in her wrist, the doctor said it is a very common injury in children. I remember feeling guilty for writing, for doing something else instead of looking after her. Then I reminded myself again and again that she could have fallen if I was cooking or cleaning, she could have fallen right next to me, she could have fallen while playing with us... The parent's guilt. They fitted her with a fancy cast, no plaster needed and she was fine in few weeks.
My third Nano was two years ago, it was a way to try to get back to myself, to what was important to me as a person, to sort out the story that started sprouting in my head. I didn't carry on working on that project, no editing, no re-writing. I was so terribly behind with everything else, I focused on my older things instead. It wasn't an easy story, or a pretty story, it was dark, but maybe not dark enough, it will need the right mindset to come to fruition.
This year, I started submitting, got many rejections, researched self publishing, looked up indie authors on twitter, saw the community that exists, that I already met during my NaNo years. I have a bunch of rejections, but I also have much clearer idea of who I am: a writer. I did NaNo to work on yet another idea that occurred. And it felt like hard work. There was so much to do: a course I am studying, editing that I didn't manage to finish, my child and my household. The fact that I must learn to be employed or self employed and do my other chores and work as well. Being a housewife is full time project, yet we are somehow conditioned to pretend it isn't a work at all. But I won't stop writing. No matter how much it takes.
November was long and hard. Everybody had a cold, child was off sick for few days, I didn't sleep as good as I would like to, the weather was bad, there were things to do... But I carried on, day after day. This year was the first time that I did write almost every day. Only on two days when I was away from home for too long to fit in any writing did I not write. And I felt awesome. The story is only a skeleton. It needs work. What changed, too, is that I humbly accept NaNo is only the beginning. I can take few days off at the start of December, but not the whole month (or few). I need to get more involved, open up to other indie writers (because I don't think I will follow the market trends in a way that attracts an agent), set up a profile or a website, get out there. Not for the money, not for the numbers of likes or followers, but simply because it is me. It is who I am. It is what works for me, what is part of me, what makes me happy. Writing. I always knew there was something about making stories that helped me get through life with all its difficulties and bad times...
So here I am. I don't manage to blog often, but I do love writing. Happy advent time everyone who loves reading so much that got him all the way down here!! Be happy when you do whatever makes sense to you and your life.
