Yeah, I know. When I'm not writing, I'm blogging about writing. I can't help it. I'm in love with writing. I want to marry writing and have its novel babies.
Today I hit page 305. And I just wanted to blog that, so that if it all falls apart when I'm done with this project and I never write again, I can always look at my own archives and remember that one time? I wrote 300 consecutive pages. If I had a drink, I'd toast myself. Because I've never done this before and it feels like magic. I want to do this forever, and yet I can hardly imagine living at this sort of breakneck pace for life. Please God, let it never end. And yet, please God, let me finish this successfully. I just want to finish and prove to myself that I can do it. It seems like, if I can do that, I can write. It wasn't all for nothing.
I spent a huge part of this summer telling myself and others that when I went into the master's program, I really didn't ever believe that I'd be a writer. I just loved books and words so damned much, I thought that if I got the degree, maybe they'd tell me the secret password--the one that would let me go to the other side where the fiction is, where all my long-lost friends are. Ben Hanscomb and Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh and the Loser's Club. Harry and Hermione and Ron. Henry and Claire DeTamble. Bunny and Richard and Charles and Camilla. Euripides and Zock and Harriet. And when I told people this, I got a little teary thinking of all those people I've loved and believed in, sometimes more than the actual people around me. I wish I could find them.
I do think that's true, that that's what I thought. Not on a conscious, crazy-person level, but way deep down. But I also think I was fueled by a wild hope that maybe...maybe I could do something I didn't know that I could do. And this feels like the gift I was waiting for. I don't care if this particular thing I'm writing will never leave my hands--I feel like if I do it, I break through--and I become the writer my degree claims I am.
It's all navel-gazing, I suppose. But I'm going to indulge myself for now.
8 comments:
I think 300 pages earns you the right to quite a significant amount of navel gazing.
I have thought about doing NaNoWriMo for several years - and very nearly did last year. Every time, life or work has exploded on my within days of it starting.
I envy your determination to get up at stupid-oclock and write each day.
I like stupid o'clock. That suits me.
I thought about NaNoWriMo, but it's taken me a month and half to get this far, so I know I wouldn't be able to finish. Also, I think my husband is ready for a break. :)
It is awesome and inspirational to read about you doing this, Megs. Navel-gaze all you like. =)
thanks for de-lurking me! i am amazed at your novel writing, and kepp telling myself that THIS will be the year I enter into the MFA for my writing degree...and they will give me the secret password, as well!!
awesome about the novel, and love your blog, too!
So happy for you, lady. Makes all of that time and the whole MFA experience (...) totally, totally worthwhile. Now if only I could begin riding on your coattails...
Keep going. Never stop. So many people STOP once they're out of the program. It's great to hear you're on a roll. best wishes!!!
What is a blog for, but to navel-gaze?
You're not naval-gazing, you're novel-gazing. ;) Hee.
Truly, though, how fantastic! That's so many pages, and think about what a relatively short amount of time it's been since you started. Amazing. Sounds like the story really swept you away, which indicates that it's a good one.
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