It’s getting to that time of year again. The time when people all around the world abandon all semblance of reason and common sense and decided that it’d be a thoroughly great idea to lock themselves away for a month and write an entire book. 50, 000 words in 30 days. An average of 1666.67 words a day for a while month. It’s something that I recommend that everyone tries at least once, just to see if they can. I tried it last year and managed to “win” with a whole 6 days left to spare. It made me feel like a god, albeit a fairly minor one with a very, very narrow divine portfolio. It also left me exhausted and wanting to hide under a rock and cry for a bit.Ā  It was one of those experiences. And then a year rolled round and I found myself looking at an on rushing November and having to make a choice. To NaNoWriMo, or Not the NaNoWrimo.

For month’s after NaNoWriMo 2011 I was very much of the “Never again!” opinion. It had been a proper old-fashioned slog and I wasn’t entirely sure whether I could face it again. By the time July had come round, I’d mellowed a bit. I started to ponder, to contemplate, to stitch little fragments of ideas together. Oh I had such plans! I had slated out research areas, books I needed to read, questions I needed to answer before I could start. It was to be so wonderful. But then as always is the case, things did not go according to plan.

The downward slop out of August and into autumn and winter has not been very good to me. For I am not a well man. I have been assailed from all sides by a manifest horde of unexpected lurgies, plagues, agues, malaises and maladies. A variety of unpleasant viral conditions have been doing the rounds at work. Although only one has thus far laid me low and forced me off sick for a grand total of three earth hours, the combined assault has left me in a state fit to achieve precisely squat. I am a burnt-out husk of a man. With my struggle to hit my standard output targets I do not consider attempting NaNoWriMo to be wise or conducive to a speedy recovery. Although I can hope for a miraculous recovery before the start of November I’m not holding my breath.

There’s always next year, a good idea doesn’t have an expiry date.

About The Rogue Verbumancer

A chemistry graduate consumed by the demons of apathy and disinterest. Likes tea and cheese. Sleeps less than he should. View all posts by The Rogue Verbumancer

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