I won NaNoWriMo in 11 days. That means that in 11 days, I wrote 50,000 words.
And I just don’t feel great about it.
Don’t get me wrong. I love meeting a challenge. I love filling out the forms and seeing the stats. How many days ahead I am. How many words per day I average. That’s actually quite a rush for a left-brained writer like me.
I wrote a few thousand words half-heartedly in a poorly thought out novel idea I have. The remaining words were in a series of essays that felt more like confessionals than anything else. They were sprawling and unfocused and certainly unfunny.
I know that 50,000 words of any sort are nothing to sneeze at. I’m a big fan of this notion:
But I’m also, like a certain famous founding father made popular by the luminous Lin-Manuel Miranda, writing like I’m running out of…
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