Until yesterday, my answer for this year was no. There have been some pretty big stuff going on in my life (that I will tell you about soon) and I just felt that doing NaNo on top of it would be pushing things a bit too far. Besides, I have only the vaguest idea of a plot, and October was so hectic there simply wasn’t time to work on an outline.
Then, somewhere between yesterday and today I decided, what the heck. What do I have to lose? Except my sanity and my sense of pride?
Nothing.
But if I win I’ll be that much closer to having a finished novel (again). I’ll have a 50% discount voucher for Scrivener. I’ll have the admiration of my friends and family. Strangers will stop me in the streets and ask for my autograph. Fans will camp out in front of my house in the hopes of glimpsing me as I pass by the window. Celebrities will tell their friends that they know me, even though we’ve never met. I’ll ascend to Mount Olympus and feast in the halls of Valhalla. I’ll…
I’ll stop now.
. . .
So, with only an hour to go before NaNo starts in my time zone, I declare that I’m going to write 50 000 words this November, or die trying (or at least severely embarrass myself in the process). I have no plot, my world-building is half done, some of my characters don’t even have names yet, but I’m going for it.
Because you only live once.
Because sitting on fences is bad for your health.
Because writing is fun, and hard work, and awesome.
And because if you never write that novel, it will never get written, and the world needs more books.