How I Feel About What I Wrote: Good. As I said yesterday, I was expecting to finish my addition today and get to editing tomorrow. However, today wound up being as careful and pensive as yesterday was–I was a bit too eager to finish this fight and wound up adding and deleting repeatedly. In the end, I got out a solid bit of work and crested what’s probably just the first of many hurdles in this fight scene. Now, after having stopped early on the last day of Week 3, I’m fully aware that my deadline for NaNoWriMo is officially tight. But I’ve always been fine with tight deadlines.
The Mood I Brought to the Table: Fine. Much better than yesterday although I pressed the same boundaries I did then.
The Experience: I woke up to emails from friends. Immediately, this made today better than yesterday.
I read those emails, had breakfast, played some games, and, once again, didn’t worry about where I was going. I let the excitement for writing my scene simmer a bit and then headed out when I heard (a little belatedly) that it was almost 50 degrees outside. Mental note made: check the daily forecasts. And although being relaxed is fine, waking up earlier affords more flexibility and more choices for the day, making things even more relaxed… The first hint of something I wasn’t realizing about my mood.
The early-start point was driven home by getting to Pelham Bay Park a bit late.
It was beautiful and I got to write there for a while, facing the angel monument. But I Definitely would’ve liked more time–would’ve preferred idling and taking even more pictures and exploring the park more thoroughly. The day was about writing, of course, not exploring, and write I did, but still… The second hint of something I wasn’t realizing about my mood.
I started my fight scene a little too eagerly and a little clumsy, making sure to take my time when I found myself rushing. Actually fighting myself to make sure I put the right words down. I’m wasn’t sure why this fight scene was so much more difficult than the first one. I knew, definitely, that I was tired–that the physical fatigue from earlier in the week turned into mental fatigue.
But it wasn’t just that. Pushing myself out again near nightfall, forcing myself to be okay with things I’m not usually okay with, I somehow wasn’t getting that those things were wearing me out. That those things were making me fight my writing. Some part of me has been silently protesting the changes; I want to be okay with going out later. I want to be okay with writing around loud, rowdy idiots. But the fact is, I’m not. Maybe its my associating the night with drinking and partying that makes it harder for me to write after sunset. Or maybe it’s the promise that getting home will be a pain in the ass on public transportation. But no matter what it is, pushing myself to accept these later writing sessions and a handful of changes meant I pushed in a different direction–I got home and just gamed when I should’ve been working and doing other things.
Essentially, I started sabotaging myself without realizing it. I’m not an expert on my own psyche, but when I packed up to use the park’s restrooms and get out of the cold, the thought, “You can always just write tomorrow,” came too easily. I was rounding back to being sedentary. Which meant I was rounding back to the idea of giving up on NaNoWriMo. Back to staying in and choosing to game instead of write. In the same flash, I thought, “Even if you don’t finish it by December, you’ve got time.”
No. No, fuck you.
When I got home, I threw down my tablet in one of my favorite rooms and continued my scene until I had to break for the night–in direct opposition to the reflex to just stop, post, watch videos online, and essentially give up.
I will not give up.
Tonight was the last night of pushing for extra challenges–the last night of trying to make myself deal with a new set of uncomfortable changes to my life while also doing NaNoWriMo. Because I will not sabotage this. I will not heap a ton of other objectives on top of finishing this one book. On Day 12, I talked about how I dropped photography and design and other hobbies to write.
Well, I’m officially dropping my sudden need to go out later and write under waterfalls or whatever the hell else I think up. No diners. No returns to places where people interrupted me. No uncertainty. No trying to change myself now, of all times, when there are 11 other months I can work on my neurosis.
For the rest of NaNoWriMo, there will only be NaNoWriMo.
For the rest of NaNoWriMo, there will just be me, a book, and a deadline.