It is day 4 of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), wherein those who are taking on the crazy challenge will complete 50,000 words in 30 days (November 1st to November 30th).
I've been outlining the chapters for this book since early August, working on characters, and developing the plot and subplots. Through the support and offerings of scholarship and friends, I was able to attend a fiction writer's workshop at the end of October. I had been thinking about the contents for the book for a couple of years. Inasmuch as someone could prepare for such an intense writing challenge, I did my homework.
But, I have felt naked and exposed in this challenge. Ill-equipped. Unprepared.
Up through yesterday, I made my writing quota, only by the skin of my chin. And it wasn't pretty. On night, I was up until 3:30 am; and another, until 4 am.
Most days, I do not have time to write until 8 or 9 pm, and by then, I am spent. Busy people who keep hectic schedules find my daily grind exhausting, just hearing about my day's work and responsibilities. It is now 9 pm, and I am only now sitting down to eat dinner. And, I haven't written one word for the challenge. Not one.
I haven't shared the really crazy part. I'm risking a lot by focusing all my spare energy on this endeavor. I am not just hoping to take a hobby to uncharted territory. I am taking a huge risk in my approach to this, and my livelihood sort of depends on it.
My obligations over the next few weeks is even more insane than this week.
I need a miracle. I need help.
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