I officially edited or wrote 51,691 words on A Thousand Years, “winning” NaNoWriMo (as of today). The only problem is, I spent my second NaNoWriMo (that’s National Novel Writing Month) working on a novel that I may abandon, soon. I don’t know what to do anymore. The novel has lost its way. And I guess that means I have.
When you write fiction that is primarily character driven (vs. plot driven) and you run into a character problem, you’ve got an entire novel problem. And . . . A Thousand Years has a character problem. The problem is, I love the heart of this novel. Which means that this little fear churning inside – that I should dump it, when I don’t really want to (but also don’t know how to fix it), is a little like torture. Like, you know, as if I’m water boarding myself. Who willingly tortures themselves?
Writers. Writers willingly torture themselves. So here I am, it’s the day before Thanksgiving, I’ve technically hit a 50,000 word count goal and I’m absolutely nowhere. I don’t know if it’s salvageable – though I long for it to be. Torture, I tell you.