NaNoWriMo has ended, about a week past. I’ve written about my expectations, about what it’s taught me, and about whether I feel I met those expectations.
So, now what?
Well, as I said at the outset – NaNoWriMo is viewed by some writers as tourist season, where the population of Authorville skyrockets, the summer folk hang around making a mess in all the gift shops and restaurants. They crowd the beaches for a spell, and then head back to their daily lives. The rest of us remain, and keep on with our writing lives.
And that’s what I’ll do. I’m just going to keep writing.
Right now, Authorville is a quiet and lonely place again. The shops are empty, the pubs too but for the locals. The bright sunny days and blaring music are gone, and the Autumn storms are approaching. But this is where I belong.
I fear my productivity will lapse. I fear my impetus will wane. I fear my first act drags. I fear my prose is navel-gazing nonsense. I fear the ~35,000 words I wrote in November will be the high water mark of my productivity.
But I will not let my fear stop me. I’m a writer. I am here to stay. And I need to keep writing.
Here I Go,