NaNoWriMo 2018
I can’t pass up a challenge.
I write every day. No, really, Every Single Day. It’s a thing.
But focus? Consistency on the same topic, book, or even a series?
Yeah, I can be coerced into getting it done. But how? This is exactly how: NaNoWriMo.
Writer’s block. Motivation. Inspiration. Seriously, not a problem.
So what’s the problem?
Deadlines.
I can’t do anything without a deadline.
Every Single Day I have a deadline to write. I succeed each and every day.
But I need the weekly, monthly, and yearly goals. Like NaNoWriMo.
Every year for the month of November, writers around the world burn up their keyboards writing 50,000-word novels.
That’s it. That’s the deal. So simple.
Tomorrow, I begin.
Or rather, Charlie Holiday begins.
You see, he has three books already. But he’s not sure where he’s going with it.
Editor’s Note: this is no way would ever be construed as meaning that I, the author of the Charlie Holiday series, don’t know I’m going with it. I’m secure, serious, unfettered. Mostly, I just wanted to write “unfettered” to see if my spell check would catch it. It didn’t. There, see? I managed to delay the question.
I need to write the next book to see where Charlie is going. I don’t know. He doesn’t know. Those around him seem to know.
I need to get in there and find out and there’s only one way to do that: to pull it down from above, through my head, it whispers through my heart, flows to my fingers and I see it on the page in front of me.
That’s what I’m doing for November. How about you?
Snipers, bombs, and machine guns. No.
Dragons, werewolves, and witches. Not that either.
Maybe death and just a little bit of murder? Sorry.
What is it then? What’s the problem? The challenge? The big thing?
Normal.
Average.
Is this really all there is?
Charlie Holiday knows he most likely won’t get shot at by an international drug cartel. No warlock is going to teleport him to planet What-Ev. Murder? Not really going to happen.
It’s worse.
It’s none of that. He’s going to suffer from none of that and only hoping there is something beyond the physical and known world he lives in.
Is there?
Is there anything out there? Just beyond what he might maybe believe one day?
Maybe that day is today.
* * *
After 3 books to see if he was really going to go through with this, Mr. Holiday is ready to, well, he doesn’t know what quite yet, but he’s ready.
Is there more? Could it be true?
He’s about to find out.
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