NaNoWriMo means the dishes are still dirty in the sink.
NaNoWriMo means I’m suddenly inspired to do every other single writing project other than my novel.
NaNoWriMo means the laundry never gets done.
NaNoWriMo means I cringe at the idea of social gathering because it means less time to crank out my daily word minimum.
NaNoWriMo means spending more time on my profile on its website than I do outlining my damn novel.
NaNoWriMo means having even more respect for authors who can churn out 2 to 3 novels a year.
NaNoWriMo means doubting myself and my abilities at every single solitary turn.
NaNoWriMo means I refuse to be yet another person who thinks up an incredible novel, but never writes it out.
NaNoWriMo means I count down the days until December.
NaNoWriMo means the house is a bloody mess and I just can’t get to it right now because I’m writing OKAY?
NaNoWriMo means learning just how many words it takes to fill up a page.
NaNoWriMo means the moment of freedom when I finally give up trying to make every stupid word perfect and just write.
NaNoWriMo means relying on all your friends who are doing NaNoWriMo while secretly wishing you were the only special snowflake to be doing such an undertaking.
NaNoWriMo means checking Facebook, GMail, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook again, Gmail again, and Amazon instead of writing.
NaNoWriMo means checking Facebook, GMail, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook again, Gmail again, and Amazon all because you needed to Google something for your book.
NaNoWriMo means imagining the wonderful world in which you’re an international bestseller and going on late night talk shows and going on worldwide book tours.
NaNoWriMo means wishing you could just win the lottery so the idea of becoming a bestseller would leave your damn skull already.
NaNoWriMo means — wait, I have to edit this?
NaNoWriMo means resorting to preschool tactics like drawing hearts on your dry erase calendar for every day you hit your word minimum.
NaNoWriMo means resorting to puppy dog tactics like getting a piece of candy for every page you write out.
NaNoWriMo means your story is shit, your characters are shit, everything is SHIT … until you finally slog through that chapter and realize everything is brilliant, absolutely brilliant.
NaNoWriMo means — WHY DO I STILL HAVE 300 WORDS TO WRITE CAN’T YOU SEE I’VE WRITTEN ENOUGH??
NaNoWriMo means no one gets to see your writing until the month is over because peer reviews are the equivalent of getting punched in the face repeatedly and then sorting out which of the bruises you can learn from.
NaNoWriMo means pretending like everything you write is perfectly fine when you know that’s a dirty lie.
NaNoWriMo means understanding that being a writer is easily one of the most masochistic things you can do, but you are ready to prove to the world you write because you have something to say, not because you have to say something.