Nano blur

Or maybe Nano rot. I totally forgot to post anything yesterday. I think that's the second time in a week.

I'm going to put it down to the curious state I mind myself in when I'm done writing for the day. I think all creativity has oozed out my ears, because I simply post a word count update, shut everything down and head upstairs. I sit and watch television for an hour, without taking anything in, and stumble off to bed.

There's a blankness of thought once the computer goes off, as if I'm shutting off, too. This last week, I've written 10k more than the week before, and I still have a day left over. I'm pushing it, I know, but it's not about the word count, it's about finishing this book by the end of the week.

My mistake was the first one was too long, much too long, way, way too long, and I've left myself short on time for this one. I'd bash my head against the wall if I thought there was something left inside to rattle.

For most of this book, I have little idea of what I've put down. I know there's a virtual travelogue, but after that? No much of a clue. Violence, probably, sex, yeah; misunderstanding, has to be. The nitty gritty, nope.

And that is the Nano blur. You work so hard on it, on reaching the fifty thousand or a hundred thousand, or whatever your personal goal is, and it damn well wears you out! The final week is blurred. You sit at the computer - as you have every day in November - you set your fingers to the keyboard and away you go until your eyes cross and your fingers fumble simple words. Then you know it's time to quit. Oh, but first, you've got to update your word count and a smile blooms as you post the day's effort.

Crash and burn quickly follows.

And speaking of which, I'm not done yet, so I'll just load up on another cup 'o java.