A few weeks ago I brought up the idea of participating in this years NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). A few of the other writers thought it would be fun and three of us decided to take the plunge. So, we have 30 days to write a 50,000 word, 175 page fiction novel. One of the writers averaged it out to 1,700 words a day. Do you want to know how many I've typed up so far?
I totally bit off more than I can chew.
I have a story line for a horror fiction novel. Funny, because I don't read fiction and I certainly don't read horror. I don't even watch horror films because I get nightmares easily. But, for some reason, I think I can write horror. Actually, I've wanted to write a memoir of my childhood, but I can't remember a whole lot (the brain does funny things, I suppose). I had a journal of everything and when Bill and I were engaged, we burned the journal in a barbecue pit at a park. It was a way to close that chapter on my life and not have anything to remind me of the horrors.
I think I can take the details that I do remember and then add some more craziness with a serial killer living in a family house and turn it into a work of fiction. I suppose all I have to do now is find the time to write it all up. Bill was going to be on a business trip all week this week and I was going to use that alone time at night to write and catch up. The trip got canceled, so now I think I'm just going to have to neglect my family this week to get it done.
How are all of these writers with jobs (or I should say, multiple jobs) doing it all? How can I fit preschool, playgroups, food writing assignments, meetings and everything in between? I'm not one to admit that I have too much on my plate - but seriously, I'm full. However, I'm not giving up. I'll get there, even if I have to lock myself in the office for a while.