Participating in the National Month of Writing Challenge which commenced from the 1st of November and concludes on the 30th of November has been a revelation. The challenge is to compose a fiction or novel consisting of 50,000 words within thirty days. It is difficult to achieve such a feat with a full time permanent teaching job. Right now, when I am blogging, I have typed 6752 words and by the end of the day I should have typed +1600 to 1800 words to stay in the game. Well guess what I am just going to find out if I can. I am going for the stars and stop me if you can!!!
The initial enthusiasm has dwindled as I find it very exhausting to return from work and resume the typing and sitting upright for hours waiting to be inspired by a divine muse besides staring at the screen, which has rendered my vision blurry. Yesterday, when I reached the 10,026 mark my spirits were revived and I found myself entertaining the hope, which is a worse flatterer than death, that maybe what seems an impossible feat can be achieved. It is the eleventh day and I have my own misgivings. Mathematical calculations reveal that I am off my target by 4,000 words as I have reached only 12009 words and by the 15th of this month I should have reached 25,000. With utmost frankness, I am not sure If I can keep this act up as there are times when I feel that my fountain of ideas have dried out and I have nowhere to go for innovativeness to keep the plot progressing.
This blog stands apart from my previous entries as it assumes the form of a journal with the addition of my progress at periodic intervals. Today I should have reached the halfway mark, however, reality is shocking as the 14,640 mark I have reached makes my target look unreal. A few inspirational emails from the Nanowrimo team has stopped me from calling it quits. What happened to the hustler in me? Gambling with words at a snail’s pace is not what I had signed up for. Every evening, overcoming exhaustion from work seems to be a herculean task and I have every reason to believe that my muse is cross with me as she has ceased inspiring me with plot intricacies that could leave an everlasting impression on the minds of readers. With one metaphoric foot after the other, I have decided to advance.