Here it is. June. Camp NaNo. Standing on the edge of a new novel that will stretch beyond the required 50,000 words. Staring at a blank page, heart pounding in throat, about to begin. Will it be awesome? Will it be readable? Will it shine forever or languish on my hardrive? It remains to be seen.
I have to admit that I feel a lot like the picture above. Standing on the edge. Exhilarated at the thought of plunging in yet still hanging back, a little afraid of the unknown. What if I smack the water in an awe-inspiring, pain-inducing belly flop instead of a graceful dive? What if the water’s colder than it looks? What if…? I could fill in the blanks forever.
That attitude won’t get me anywhere. Kim’s story won’t spill onto the page by itself, though there will be times that it seems like it. It has to be written. There will be times when I yell at the computer screen, demanding the words appear. There will be times I wished my computer could keep up with the rate I’m typing because going back would destroy the rhythm. Both are part of the process, as is the in-between when words flow in spurts and starts, one or two sentences at a time. That can’t hold me back.
So, it’s officially June. I don’t know how much I can get out before I turn in for the night. Not much, I’m sure. I’m trying something new – writing completely in first person. I’ve written a couple of short stories in first person but nothing nearly as long as a novel. It will be different. Exciting. Like the cold water, I’m sure it will sting a little at first, then I’ll get used to it and be able to swim freely. But first, the plunge.