So, did I finish a novel during NaNoWriMo? I did! Well, sort of – I wrote a novella. It’s a Christmas story set in the southeast and it was an absolute blast to write; it was especially helpful for perpetuating some much-needed holiday feeling for me. Things have felt rather bleak here over the last year and visiting this quaint little mountain town and its lovely inhabitants was just the vacation I needed.
I began the story on November 1, and I finished editing the last chapter and epilogue on November 30 – it just worked out that way. I initially planned for this to be a cute, quick story about two best friends working together to overcome a tumultuous past and save a local business. It’s just twelve chapters (one for each of the twelve days of Christmas – don’t ask me how the epilogue fits into that) and was meant to be potentially released on my blog like “Text Me, Maybe.” However, as I read through it during my first edit, I realized there is so much to unpack in this story and that it can’t be done in just twelve chapters. There are relationships to explore, hurdles to overcome, and wrongs to make right; there are human hardships and complexities I feel are worth bringing to life that are unique to this story. So, instead of a cute, Hallmark-esque micro-romance, I’ve decided to table this story until later, when I can come back to it with fresh eyes and turn it into something bigger. Who knows? Maybe it will be my Christmas gift to you next year.
Now that NaNoWriMo is over, I’m torn between relief and frustration. I wasn’t writing much before November because…life. I wasn’t really in a place to be adding things to my already overfilled plate, and because I was going through so much, writing was put on the back burner. I wanted to write – I NEEDED to write. What better way to make myself write than to join a nation in setting a goal to do it every day? I hesitated to do it under my current circumstances because I know how obsessive I can be about hitting my goals. In fact, I don’t set goals a lot anymore because I know what I will put myself through to accomplish them. But I did it, and I’m not sorry.
I have had to take it slow for the last several months – VERY slow – painfully, frustratingly slow. This means I have had to prioritize what gets done and what doesn’t, and sadly, writing usually falls at the bottom of my list. It doesn’t feed my kids or sweep my floors or bring home the dough. I often convince myself it isn’t furthering my healing, either, which is a top priority right now, but my therapist would disagree with that. So, I decided to give it one month; I was all in for one month. Let me tell you, things went undone. I sacrificed time, chores, comfort, and even my night-time wind-down to meet this goal, and I could not have done it without my wonderfully supportive husband who was left to pick up my slack. While I don’t plan on bogging him down with extra work going forward, I am more determined than ever to find a way to incorporate more fiction writing into my day-to-day life. I need it, and I’m starting to believe that it needs me.