Sunday the 28th of November, two days before the deadline, I was wedged between a slumbering Gavin in his giant car seat and the car door as Jon drove us back from Sarasota. It was around noon and we were five minutes from home (we'd left at 4 a.m. to beat traffic), when - so sleep deprived I felt like I had mild brain damage - I laid down the last of my 50,000 words for National Novel Writing Month.
"I finished," I announced, releasing a full-bodied, earth-shattering yawn. Then I lay back and closed my eyes. The achievement felt anti-climactic - there was no audience cheering, no bells bursting, no confetti exploding in my face. Just me with greasy hair and my recently-coffee-stained sweatshirt, dusty laptop perched awkwardly on my lap. As the day wore on I would remember, and marvel, hey, I finished. I finished a novel.
However, I hesitate to even call the file I have saved a novel. Right now, it's just a mass of words thrown together. Sometimes they flowed, light and pleasant...and sometimes reaching my daily word count goal felt like dislodging screws from wood. With my teeth.
The idea of the NaNoWriMo challenge is quantity over quality, though, with the idea that you can go back later, sift through and see what you've got. Even if I've got nothing but a short story - or, well, just nothing - I learned a lot, the most important thing being how to write while caring for a toddler. Before having Gavin, I only wrote in the mornings, and sometimes at work if I was into something. Usually, though, I would get up early and brew tea with honey. Sometimes, if I was really motivated and up in time, I would meditate before writing. Then I would calmly work on something for thirty minutes or so before work.
In the last month, though, in order to come up with 50,000 words, there was no time to cultivate a satisfying atmosphere. Neglecting housework, I wrote during naps of course, and as Gavin and Jon or my mother in law ran around me or played with noisy, singing toys in the background. I threw out words in the car, over Gavin's head while he nursed, on the couch while Jon watched TV and tried not to talk to me, and once standing in the kitchen while on the stove rice bubbled, dried and then joined forces with the pot.
But the important thing is I finished. And now, to the relief of my family, I'm off to do some laundry.
