Well, it's over. NaNoWriMo 2012 has come to a close, and I am reluctant to say that I failed at reaching my DOUBLEWRIMO goal of 100,000 words (twice the requirement to 'win' NaNoWriMo). A snapshot of my stats is below.
I discovered upon finishing that, while 80,000 words is a respectable number, I wrote a full 10,000 words LESS than I did the previous year. I'll make my excuses quickly, because I'm pretty sure I've complained about them more than once. In November 2012, I literally: bought a house, moved twice, flew across the country and back for Thanksgiving, drove up the coast and back for a promotion ceremony, and sank so low in the hole in my vacation time at work that I've been working between 9-12 hours a day for the entire month. I can't say this is an environment conducive to writing.
Then there was black Friday online shopping of course. I didn't make DOUBLEWRIMO, but I have a trumpet.
That aside, I still did manage to clear 80,000 words, and there is a significant portion of my book that is written. I'll save this for another post, but I'm not nearly as excited about this one as I was the last one. I wonder if it's just a flawed perception, and had you asked me this time last year what I thought of the book I was currently writing, I would have said, "It's CRAP! Crap, crap, CRAP!" and thrown a sheaf of papers up in the air all dramatically, so they cascaded down like snowflakes of my inner artistic snowstorm of pain. I can't remember. Perhaps, when I'm in the middle of my next book and I am thinking the same thing, I will now have this post to look at and say "Oh, yeah, they all suck at first, no worries."
In any case, life has started to settle down just as NaNoWriMo comes to a close. Theoretically that should make more room for writing, but I'm not convinced it will. Aside from the fact that NaNoWriMo serves as a motivator for me, now I have a house to decorate and live in, a baby to prepare for, and I'm sitting in front of 10 different instruments - I just turned around and counted - that are all calling my name. Art in all its form is a jealous bitch.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make that jealous bitch some coffee.