NaNoWriMo. Twice in the Same Year. Back to Back. Because I'm Crazy.

But maybe not this crazy...

I'm only a third of the way into a novel I hope to finish by the end of October. That statement both feels and sounds more daunting than it actually is, especially when I think about the things I've accomplished in previous years. After all, I wrote the entire 56K word first draft of The Stargazers in just under 3 weeks. It was short, sure, but it was a complete book that I eventually expanded (and you can buy it now, ahem).

In fact, for the last four years, I have written 50,000 words in the span of 12-20 days without breaking much of a sweat. 50,000 words is just easy for me. I'm not bragging. It's just the simple truth. My productivity might be better than some people's, but there are writers who can and do kick my ass on a regular basis in terms of output, and they also, you know, finish nearly every book they start. My average is improving, but it's still not quite where it should be.

But if 50K is the cakewalk, it's the 30K or so proceeding words that are the real challenge. STRINGS has over 30K words right now, so at least there is that. If I work as hard over the next two or three weeks as I have during every November since 2008, I will finish the first draft well before the end of the month, just in time to start the REAL NaNoWriMo. On paper, this is totally possible. I'm not exactly working outside the boundaries of my capabilities here. It just means I have to actually, you know, do the work.

Of course, this means that instead of one month where I'm getting absolutely no household chores done, there will be two. That's new. It will also mean two months where I won't be getting out much, where I'll be drinking far too much coffee (I only break out the brew when shit gets serious), living in my pajamas, sleeping too little, and paying very little to no attention to anything else that might be happening in the world. People and animals may or may not get fed around here. I may also wind up smelling bad and muttering to myself like a hobo. It happens.

But that's the madness of it all. I'm sure, by December, I won't be writing another word for about three months. Editing is the ultimate equalizer. So is coma.