NaNoWriMo Day 1. If we were using a desert island analogy, this is the day I crash-land on my desert wonderland (hey, on Day 1 it’s a wonderland), a little jarred out of complacency and at a loss for where to begin. I gather the remnants of the belongings that washed ashore with me (my jumbled mess of notes and outlines) and try to arrange them into a semblance of coherency. Gather sticks of ideas, try to fashion shelter. Everything collapses. Throw up hands in frustration. Try again. Forage for island resources. Try to think optimistically.
Of course, in the real world, that translates into something like:
Morning: Sit at computer. Eagerly open Word file. Wait for inspiration to strike and my genius to be unleashed.
Very soon thereafter that morning: Ooh, need coffee. Gotta go make some.
Thirty seconds later: Hm, coffeepot needs washing. Sink full of dishes could use washing too.
Five minutes later: Mm, coffeeee. I wonder where this came from. What exactly is an “arabica”? Must google.
Thirty minutes later: Oops, should get back to work.
Thirty seconds later: Dum. Dee. Doo. Novel novel novel. Write write write. Why is page so white? Mocking me with its emptiness, the blinking cursor taunting, like an annoying older sibling hits you in the face with your own hand: Why aren’t you writing yourself? Why aren’t you writing yourself? Why aren’t you writing yourself?
Five minutes later: Whoa, where did the last five minutes go?
Five minutes later: Maybe I should blog first. To get the juices going, y’know.
Thirty minutes later: Dude, I could have written a page in this time. WILL NOT PROCRASTINATE (any more). Ooh, cookies.