I remember NaNo as it was in college. Or, at least, the way they told me it was. Countless pots of coffee and hour long sessions at Panera, or the CX. A group of fervent writers, huddled in a mass around their laptops, casually throwing out a lewd joke to break the tension when it started to get too quiet. The constant watch of passersby, wondering what kind of study group warranted the intense silence broken only by "Gah! Plot bunny!" Homework somehow found itself in the back seat. Eating became something you forgot to do. Tempers flared, relationships groaned under the strain. 50,000 or more words were painstakingly plunked out toward victory.
Back then it was glamorous. Because then we were sheltered. Because then we were like-minded--we all understood. If you're behind on word count, I'll cover your shift. I'll send you some cliff notes. We'll all forget about it come December. Everything is excusable during NaNo.
NaNoWriMo 2010 concluded as of 12:00AM last night--or this morning, if you prefer. At the end of it all, the one thing I can say for sure is I wish I'd done it back then. I wish I'd holed up in my dorm and fervently wrote. Because I'm only realizing now how much I've missed out on by waiting.
In the last month, coffee came in abundance. My social life took a hard left turn to seclusion. Dinner rarely got cooked--I took most my meals in my room, and most of them were originally neatly packaged and frozen. My relationship creaked under the weight. Tempers were at an all time high. And somehow, somewhere in the middle of it all, I came to the conclusion that I am avoiding clinical depression by my shear determination to be functional. Also known as the skin of my teeth.
50,000 words, however, did not happen. When I told people, my co-workers at the dental office in particular, what I was doing... their reactions seemed to treat it like a funny little pass time. Something you do on the weekends, like baking or DnD. Like a joke. Nothing has gotten under my skin more this month than that attitude. I decided early on that I was going to prove them all wrong. I was going to go beyond 50K, just to prove to the world that I could do it.
I reread my first post now and I feel like a traitor to my bright-eyed, hopeful self. I've let her down. I remember my high-school-self, my undergraduate-self... I've let them down too. Three people--my boyfriend, my mother, and my lone commenter Megan--have all urged me forward with the same consolation: that I've done more in the month than I've done in a year, and that alone is a start.
I find my hope in the fact that I am unsatisfied with that being all there is.
It's too late for NaNo 2010. It's too late for the NaNo's of years past, the college years, and the better times. But it's not too late to prove everyone, including myself, wrong. It's never too late to stand atop the mountain of November 1st, shouting to the world that I'm here, that I will conquer.
Because I've learned for me, this is the only option. The only thing holding me up is the strength of my grip on my own bootstraps. All that's left now is to push through.
