This is a constant dilemma. A lovely blank page, a fabulous pen and nothing to write. Perhaps I should clarify. I always have something to write, but the quality of said writing is often lacking.
It’s November and that means National Novel Writing Month, or NaNo, for short. Every year since 2005, I have risen to the challenge of writing 50,000 words in 30 days. I even reached the goal for three of those years. But it’s stressful. Really. It doesn’t sound like it should be, but trust me. I cannot describe the brutality of having to compose 1,667 cohesive words every single day for a month.
I’ve opted out of NaNo this year. Two of my daughters and several friends are in the throes of frantic writing, and a part of me is envious. But I know I’d be setting myself up for failure if I made the attempt this time. I have too much on my plate already, and I made a promise to myself that I would stop taking on more than I can reasonably handle. Of course, that hasn’t happened yet, but soon.
Back to the blank page.
Yup. It’s still there.