Halfway through Camp NaNoWriMo, and I have about…1000 words.
I should’ve known that I would suck at this. I mean, the signs were all there: lack of preparation, my first attempt at NaNoWriMo was bad (I only got to 25K), having little to no motivation to write, etc.
Although it’s not like I’m not writing–I am. Every day at work, during my lunch break, I write down a few snippets until the hour is up. But it’s inside a small journal, where a word count is not automatically added up. It’s all on paper, and the hassle of typing up onto a computer after a day at work is just too troublesome. It’s a poor excuse, but it’s an excuse nonetheless.
Which should be sad, since NaNoWriMo focuses a lot on word count. The entire purpose is to write 50K in a month, averaging to a little more than 1,600 words a day. I should be full of self-loathing and bitterness. Oh, how dare I let my laziness keep me from succeeding at this? I am such a pathetic waste because I don’t care enough to digitally update a novel that I barely planned out. Oh, what a failure I am.
But, honestly? I’m not sad. A little disappointed in myself, but that isn’t anything new. My expectations for Camp were so low, that this entire thing is not a surprise. One can say that I had this coming to me, even.
And besides, who really cares if I fail to write 50K words in a month? What’s the real harm if I don’t constantly update the word count on a website? I know that I’m writing every day, I’m just not obsessing over a number goal. And writing every day at any pace is success in its own sense.
Of course, when the time comes for the real NaNoWriMo, I have to really come prepared because I don’t want to fail three times. Now that would be sad. But until then, I’m just going to write and not think too much about it.