This is just the craziest thing.
Imagine frantically typing away for 30 days in November to produce a 50,000 word novel. And knowing there are thousands and thousands of others around the globe doing the exact same thing. Everyone knows it’s going to be vaguely, if not outlandishly, crappy, but no one cares. Because it’s all about turning off that critical inner-editor, disciplining yourself to write, joining just for the heck of the challenge, allowing crappy stuff to flow so that bits of genius can slip out uncensored, and of course, pretending to be a novelist if only just for 30 days in a year. It’s absolutely brilliant, utter madness, and the most exciting thing I’ve heard all week (okay, so it’s only Monday but that’s beside the point).
I’m totally going to do it. If anyone one else is up for it, let me know so we can weep in desperation come November 28th and tear out our hair together throughout what promises to be a lovely month. I don’t even know what 50,000 words look like and a brutally-silenced inner voice is squeaking – are you sure? do you even have a clue how many words 50,000 words is?
Of course you silly, it’s 50,000.
God I haven’t even started and I’m already crazy.
