I’ve decided that the April incarnation of Camp NaNoWriMo is not for me this year. Maybe July, but doing even my sketchy planning for a new novel is not compatible with getting a short story out to NaNoLosAngeles by April 6. Not for me, not now. Not to mention the fact that the start of Camp overlaps the end of my prep period by almost a week… What were NaNoLosAngeles thinking?
As for that short story, it’s coming along–it’s passed the halfway point in word count. It’s challenging, if only because the Victorians were so wordy–when I get my head into period dialogue, my steampunk starts taking a lot of words.
It’s also a challenge emotionally, as somehow I have become convinced that turning in anything will make me the laughingstock of Los Angeles. Intellectually, I know that’s silly–I can’t possibly be the worst writer in L.A., not even if I restrict that to the worst writer in NaNoLosAngeles. This is far too big a place for that. But that’s my head for you–if I don’t think there’s a chance of being the best, it’ll decide I must be the worst. Being in the middle is not a choice my head makes.
Onward, then. If I can get the draft done by next Monday, I’ll have three weeks to revise.
I can do this.