I’ve been having bad luck with attempting to participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). Each year, starting the moment November begins, intrepid writers attempt to complete a novel of 50,000 words by the last second of November. That entails some time and devotion. Time is my enemy, and my devotion gets put on hold.
One thing I’m trying this year is to use voice software to leave my hands free to do the things I would have to ignore if I’m typing a novel. The software has turned out to be a bit too human: it doesn’t understand me, often ignores me and keeps asking stupid questions.
This morning, while waiting for some friends to show up, I channeled my inner J.K. Rowling and drafted some details from my planned NaNoWriMo novel on a napkin. It works rather well and travels lightly in my already bulging handbag. Somebody had a fingernail issue and I offered my clippers, prompting another friend to ask what I don’t carry in my purse. I confessed that I don’t have a kitchen sink in there. I also don’t have a novel.
Over the years I have had attempts at making my novel goal that came close to being tangible successes, but that 50,000 mark has escaped every year. One would have to write 1,667 words daily to achieve the goal. Maybe it is best achieved by folks who are on vacation, retired or write for a living. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying. Wish me luck, and if I’m not back next week, you’ll know that I’m cranking out words on a napkin somewhere.
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