NaNoWriMo 2016 Is Now!
Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo. *cue fanfare*
And... It's off to an okay start. I had three story ideas, so I decided to write all three. I don't know if I'll keep that up, but for now... it seems to be working. I mean, whenever I feel inspired for one, I'll write that. When creativity for that story is zapped, I'll start working on either of the other two stories.
It's interesting because my approach to this exercise is very non-committal. All I want is to write the 50'000 words in thirty days. Past that? I don't really have any real drive or motivation or impetus. It's all about the numbers for me, baby! So I don't know if it's because I'm only going through the motions with this: Whether it's because I want to be able to say, "I've written a book!" or really if it's because I'm feeling slightly pressured, but... that's how I'm approaching this year's NaNo. Plus, let's not forget the fact that I actually kinda sorta wrote an actual kinda sort of book last year. I mean... how can I not want to top that again this year?
But (if I'm being perfectly and totally honest here) there's another thought that's niggling away at me. A thought that I don't really like voicing or examining because it seems to me that this tendency of mine to do things a certain way is kind of a cock-block, both mental and physical. And this tendency is to be a perfectionist. I mean, is there one story idea I liked best? Yes. Am I currently writing that story? No. And why is that, Marcela? Well, if you must know, the reason (I suspect) is that I have such an unclear (but perfect) idea ruminating in my head that's so beautiful (and did I mention perfect?) that I'm afraid of starting it. I'm afraid of even going near that idea for fear that the real story won't be as good or wonderful as the one I'm not writing in my head.
Fucked up, non?
Oui.
And, to make matters worse still, I'm slowly realizing that this strive to be "perfect" has kind of influenced my non-relationships. Take scenario A, for example. I meet a cute guy. He's loyal, and kind, and funny, and ambitious, and great with my friends, and great with kids, and (although non-religious) respectful of people's differing religious views. No, he's not perfect... but he's almost perfect. And, pretend I actually like this guy. Pretend I like him and I don't do anything about my feelings for fear that the reality of being in a relationship with him is nothing like I imagined it would be. What then?
Exactly. This weird fixation with "perfection" has cock-blocked me both mentally and physically so I'm saying "FUCK THAT NOISE." I may not write the novel I wanted to just yet. I may not go after the almost perfect guy tomorrow. But. I'm getting there. Maybe I'll be writing this novel by next January. As for the guy... that might take some time. I don't know if you know this but... I'm kind of a chicken.
And... It's off to an okay start. I had three story ideas, so I decided to write all three. I don't know if I'll keep that up, but for now... it seems to be working. I mean, whenever I feel inspired for one, I'll write that. When creativity for that story is zapped, I'll start working on either of the other two stories.
It's interesting because my approach to this exercise is very non-committal. All I want is to write the 50'000 words in thirty days. Past that? I don't really have any real drive or motivation or impetus. It's all about the numbers for me, baby! So I don't know if it's because I'm only going through the motions with this: Whether it's because I want to be able to say, "I've written a book!" or really if it's because I'm feeling slightly pressured, but... that's how I'm approaching this year's NaNo. Plus, let's not forget the fact that I actually kinda sorta wrote an actual kinda sort of book last year. I mean... how can I not want to top that again this year?
But (if I'm being perfectly and totally honest here) there's another thought that's niggling away at me. A thought that I don't really like voicing or examining because it seems to me that this tendency of mine to do things a certain way is kind of a cock-block, both mental and physical. And this tendency is to be a perfectionist. I mean, is there one story idea I liked best? Yes. Am I currently writing that story? No. And why is that, Marcela? Well, if you must know, the reason (I suspect) is that I have such an unclear (but perfect) idea ruminating in my head that's so beautiful (and did I mention perfect?) that I'm afraid of starting it. I'm afraid of even going near that idea for fear that the real story won't be as good or wonderful as the one I'm not writing in my head.
Fucked up, non?
Oui.
And, to make matters worse still, I'm slowly realizing that this strive to be "perfect" has kind of influenced my non-relationships. Take scenario A, for example. I meet a cute guy. He's loyal, and kind, and funny, and ambitious, and great with my friends, and great with kids, and (although non-religious) respectful of people's differing religious views. No, he's not perfect... but he's almost perfect. And, pretend I actually like this guy. Pretend I like him and I don't do anything about my feelings for fear that the reality of being in a relationship with him is nothing like I imagined it would be. What then?
Exactly. This weird fixation with "perfection" has cock-blocked me both mentally and physically so I'm saying "FUCK THAT NOISE." I may not write the novel I wanted to just yet. I may not go after the almost perfect guy tomorrow. But. I'm getting there. Maybe I'll be writing this novel by next January. As for the guy... that might take some time. I don't know if you know this but... I'm kind of a chicken.
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