Clank, clank, clank, clank, …. WHEEE!

I’m sitting in an imaginary roller-coaster car as it is being pulled up that first long hill.  In my mind’s ear, I can hear the clacking of the wheels on the track; in my mind’s eye I see the wide open sky above me as I reach the top of that first drop; my stomach feels the pull of G-forces as we slow, curve over, and start racing down.

ZOMG!  What have I gotten myself into?!

It’s the first of November, the beginning of National Novel Writing Month.  It’s that month where we specifically try to write fifty thousand new words.  Only 1667 words a day  —  every day, day in and day out, for thirty days.  No excuses, no slacking off.

And no prizes or rewards, either.  Just the satisfaction of knowing that you can discipline yourself to sit down and write on schedule.

I’ve been puttering along on one novel for nearly two decades.  I’ve got a couple of short stories in fitful progress, and notes and outlines for a half-dozen more.  I’ve got plenty of ideas, a sweet little laptop to record them into, the entire Internet as my research library, and all the other trappings I could ever think I need or want to become a writer.

I only need to do some writing.  Like maybe 1667 words a day  —  every day.  What separates me from imagining I’m a writer, and actually being one, is just writing all these stories out.  And this is the month when I run out of excuses.

Wish us all luck!  And lots of words….

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