At the beginning of November I posted about joining Nanowrimo, touted as "30 days of literary abandon." And while I've been writing since about age 7, I had never in my entire life sat down to a specific goal with a set deadline when it came to writing.
I wasn't entirely sure it would work. Granted, I know about the value of project management - I wouldn't have been in the business of it for 20 years if I didn't. Maybe it's because I do it for work that I never thought about applying it to my creative endeavors. Or maybe I was just trying to keep the two separate.
In any case, I'm not sure if it matters so much to break it down. What I do know is that between the muse and I, we dominated those 50,000 words. What hits home even more forcefully to me is that those 50,000 words were managed while life went on. That despite having zero prepped when I started, being sick, recovering from a minor accident, and taking time for a much needed Lord of the Rings marathon. (Truly, mandatory!)
Since finishing (or winning, as they like to call it, and hey, who am I to argue?!), I've taken a wee break from writing. Oddly enough, the pattern has been set - I've felt like something was missing the last couple of days. Like when I haven't finished reading a book and it's nagging at me to go read. Only it's my book. And it's calling me to finish.
It's a good feeling, all the way around.