This morning, Day Three of NaNoWriMo, I seemed to be somewhere that Chris Baty says should be the realm of Week Two. That would be the infamous ‘storm cloud’ scenario.
I was plodding along and realized that Becca, protagonist and my own personal alter-ego, was an insufferable little prick who was boring the pants off me and would cause any potential readers to flee from the moralizing she was slinging out as I tried to throw some social relevance into the soup. Becca was miserable; I was miserable. By lunchtime I realized there was no way I’d make it to December or 50,000 words this way.
So the dogs and I went to the state park. When we got back I started thinking about how pissed off I am at something that’s going on in my real life. And I started thinking, wouldn’t it be nice if I could only blankety-blank-blank-blank.
And I realized that I could — in my novel. I spent an hour or so banging away at a ridiculous premise and a lovely revenge scheme. I had a whole lot more fun than I had had earlier in the day, and cranked out a lot more words to add to the count. I have some ideas that may carry me for another day or two. They’re nasty. 🙂
No more Ms. Nice Guy. Thank heaven.