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requiemsI'd be lying if I said I wrote a lot before I got sick. Not narrative. Not stories with a beginning and an end; I might plan out something in great detail, but I wouldn't do all the filler bits that string thoughts into paragraphs and chapters. When I did write, I scratched my itch with journal RP, and that I retired from long before M.E.. There was one thing I always set time aside for every year though, and that was NaNoWriMo.
I've participated in Nano 10 times, and also won 10 times in 11 years (the only time I didn't participate was in the middle of a screenwriting course with a deadline in November, being on vacation for the first four days and starting my very first job, Nano had to give that time). My first Nano was when I was sixteen, smack dab in the middle of my GCSE's. The next five years were a balancing act of either exams or coursework or essays... some wins were scraped through at the eleventh hour by the skin of my teeth; others, early, by writing as much as possible at the start of the month before I buckled down on whatever essay was due, the Nano itself a procrastination, not that that was a guarantee of productivity. My policy on writing back then was loose, being I would sit down to write and would only step away from my laptop when I had hit at least two thousand words. Sometimes that would take two hours. Sometimes that would take six. But it didn't matter, because I wasn't mentally floundering every few words or every other sentence, wasn't having to be diligent about time spent with regard to payback and repercussions tomorrow - that if I wrote a little more today too far over my now found limit, I might not be able to even meet par for the next four days. My M.E. is like having a third party I have to regularly check in with to see if whatever I'm doing is okay, and sometimes I just have to make a wild guess and I guess wrong. I have to live with the immediate repercussions, but it also teaches me lessons. And in this instance, I used those lessons to my give myself a result.
Though 2017 was my first Nano with M.E., 2016 was my last without, and was the first one where I truly had free reign of my time, and the time I could spend writing. All other Nanos had been bundled with education, job woes, family emergencies... this one only had as much time as my job didn't give me hours for, and I didn't have much of any extra hours that November. Instead, I wrote. Usually I would write my fifty thousand words and move on, gratified by my above-par graph and completed words yet unable to write a single thing past it. I never wrote something whole, but Interregnum was different. My end married up to the prologue of the Old Kingdom series, and I knew roughly how I would get there; I had three arcs, I knew what would happen in each, and it wasn't just blindly going in as I usually did for Nano. I wrote a phenomenal amount of words for me that November, smashing 50k a little over two thirds in and reaching a total of 80k before the month was out.
I figured I had perhaps another 20k to go (remember what I said about estimates and gueswork? Applies to words too. 160k =/= 100k, me). That was doable, I thought. I could have a break from it and come back fresh to it for Camp for the rest and edits in the new year after Christmas.
And to have something finished, something with that much love and care poured into it for a universe I loved, world compliant whilst also built from its lore? It was more than just 50k words to look back at every now and then. It was a goal. It was something that would make my mark, in some small way. I wanted to finish it.
And then I got M.E..
There was a period of time where I thought I would never finish Interregnum.
Honestly, there was a period of time where I wondered if I would ever be able to write ever again.
I wrote a few small things in those first few difficult months of M.E.. I attempted two Campanano's in April and July respectively, and it was a long, hard slog. I couldn't concentrate well enough. I couldn't get the words out, too stubborn to use anything but the perfect word that continually slipped away. The problem was I was still trying to write as I had done previously with no methods changed. It was grueling and somewhat underwhelming; I put in so much time to what I perceived as little gain, and my mental fog was thick and I was sluggish. I stopped writing altogether and had started having to detach myself from things that I loved but had no choice to let go of - some dreams and hobbies had to go, I had realised. I wasn't then sure if writing would be one of them, and regardless of me wanting to try, as November got closer I had to settle with the realisation that this might be the first Nano where I would not meet fifty thousand words.
It was a hard thing to accept when my body was what was sabotaging me. I thought about not doing it at all - I'm a perfectionist, and somehow not being able to complete the thing but doing it anyway felt far worse (and, as in 2014, was part of the reason I didn't take part) - but at the last minute, I fortuitously changed my mind. I started something new, also fanfic, a silly thing that I didn't take all too seriously as long as I enjoyed myself. I gave myself a lower limit and that 1k words a day would be enough. Just so I could satisfy the itch and routine that had come with doing Nano every year for a good chunk of my life.
As it was, I actually won Nano in 2017, and 2018, too. But 2017 was like doing Nano again for the very first time as I figured myself and my mental limits out. I had come to accept I couldn't just plow through Nano with that reduced goal, which allowed me to experiment and make the most of the spoons I was able to offer it. A lot of what I learned then I still apply now in Nano and other things; I discovered I could actually write rather effectively if I set myself a 35-40 minute timer on my phone, and that virtual "ready, set, go!" would actually make me sit down and do it (if only I'd discovered that when I wrote essays on the regular honestly). If I was still feeling it after my alarm went off or I was in the middle of a thought, I'd keep going or finish it, maybe another 5-10 minutes at most... and then I'd step away for several hours. This stepping away was something I never did before, but it allowed me to refocus. Recharge without payback. Later in the day I could come back and do another 20-30 minute session, and with both combined, I could easily pass the daily par of 1.7k and could still have 2k words per day. And with the regularity, my daily progress only got better as the month went on and my wpm soared.
In some ways this is a much better way to write than an unproductive five hours with only one of them actually spent writing. Without M.E., I never would have riddled it out and found a method I somewhat prefer. It's an odd one. It's also not ideal, as realistically I know I would be better off with one session of writing a day or else I start having to swap out my capability to do any sort of cleaning or chore beyond basic needs in November completely, but for a few weeks, sure. I can do it.
I do sometimes miss that vigour that came with 2016's Nano, and how many words I could breeze through. But I know my limits. I know better. It'll never be as easy as it was, but I know I can get there: and that though words may vanish and I'll have to look for whatever I meant later, as long as I keep going the words can and will still come.
Knowing what I had to do to succeed made the 2018 experience that much easier, because I had done it twice before: including finally finishing off Interregnum. And it was a truly emotional moment when I did, even before the final edits were complete. I may not be able to do very much anymore, but I don't have to give up writing. When the mood or inspiration strikes, I can do it.
I can make my mark on a world I am so often denied in some small way.
I've participated in Nano 10 times, and also won 10 times in 11 years (the only time I didn't participate was in the middle of a screenwriting course with a deadline in November, being on vacation for the first four days and starting my very first job, Nano had to give that time). My first Nano was when I was sixteen, smack dab in the middle of my GCSE's. The next five years were a balancing act of either exams or coursework or essays... some wins were scraped through at the eleventh hour by the skin of my teeth; others, early, by writing as much as possible at the start of the month before I buckled down on whatever essay was due, the Nano itself a procrastination, not that that was a guarantee of productivity. My policy on writing back then was loose, being I would sit down to write and would only step away from my laptop when I had hit at least two thousand words. Sometimes that would take two hours. Sometimes that would take six. But it didn't matter, because I wasn't mentally floundering every few words or every other sentence, wasn't having to be diligent about time spent with regard to payback and repercussions tomorrow - that if I wrote a little more today too far over my now found limit, I might not be able to even meet par for the next four days. My M.E. is like having a third party I have to regularly check in with to see if whatever I'm doing is okay, and sometimes I just have to make a wild guess and I guess wrong. I have to live with the immediate repercussions, but it also teaches me lessons. And in this instance, I used those lessons to my give myself a result.
Though 2017 was my first Nano with M.E., 2016 was my last without, and was the first one where I truly had free reign of my time, and the time I could spend writing. All other Nanos had been bundled with education, job woes, family emergencies... this one only had as much time as my job didn't give me hours for, and I didn't have much of any extra hours that November. Instead, I wrote. Usually I would write my fifty thousand words and move on, gratified by my above-par graph and completed words yet unable to write a single thing past it. I never wrote something whole, but Interregnum was different. My end married up to the prologue of the Old Kingdom series, and I knew roughly how I would get there; I had three arcs, I knew what would happen in each, and it wasn't just blindly going in as I usually did for Nano. I wrote a phenomenal amount of words for me that November, smashing 50k a little over two thirds in and reaching a total of 80k before the month was out.
I figured I had perhaps another 20k to go (remember what I said about estimates and gueswork? Applies to words too. 160k =/= 100k, me). That was doable, I thought. I could have a break from it and come back fresh to it for Camp for the rest and edits in the new year after Christmas.
And to have something finished, something with that much love and care poured into it for a universe I loved, world compliant whilst also built from its lore? It was more than just 50k words to look back at every now and then. It was a goal. It was something that would make my mark, in some small way. I wanted to finish it.
And then I got M.E..
There was a period of time where I thought I would never finish Interregnum.
Honestly, there was a period of time where I wondered if I would ever be able to write ever again.
I wrote a few small things in those first few difficult months of M.E.. I attempted two Campanano's in April and July respectively, and it was a long, hard slog. I couldn't concentrate well enough. I couldn't get the words out, too stubborn to use anything but the perfect word that continually slipped away. The problem was I was still trying to write as I had done previously with no methods changed. It was grueling and somewhat underwhelming; I put in so much time to what I perceived as little gain, and my mental fog was thick and I was sluggish. I stopped writing altogether and had started having to detach myself from things that I loved but had no choice to let go of - some dreams and hobbies had to go, I had realised. I wasn't then sure if writing would be one of them, and regardless of me wanting to try, as November got closer I had to settle with the realisation that this might be the first Nano where I would not meet fifty thousand words.
It was a hard thing to accept when my body was what was sabotaging me. I thought about not doing it at all - I'm a perfectionist, and somehow not being able to complete the thing but doing it anyway felt far worse (and, as in 2014, was part of the reason I didn't take part) - but at the last minute, I fortuitously changed my mind. I started something new, also fanfic, a silly thing that I didn't take all too seriously as long as I enjoyed myself. I gave myself a lower limit and that 1k words a day would be enough. Just so I could satisfy the itch and routine that had come with doing Nano every year for a good chunk of my life.
As it was, I actually won Nano in 2017, and 2018, too. But 2017 was like doing Nano again for the very first time as I figured myself and my mental limits out. I had come to accept I couldn't just plow through Nano with that reduced goal, which allowed me to experiment and make the most of the spoons I was able to offer it. A lot of what I learned then I still apply now in Nano and other things; I discovered I could actually write rather effectively if I set myself a 35-40 minute timer on my phone, and that virtual "ready, set, go!" would actually make me sit down and do it (if only I'd discovered that when I wrote essays on the regular honestly). If I was still feeling it after my alarm went off or I was in the middle of a thought, I'd keep going or finish it, maybe another 5-10 minutes at most... and then I'd step away for several hours. This stepping away was something I never did before, but it allowed me to refocus. Recharge without payback. Later in the day I could come back and do another 20-30 minute session, and with both combined, I could easily pass the daily par of 1.7k and could still have 2k words per day. And with the regularity, my daily progress only got better as the month went on and my wpm soared.
In some ways this is a much better way to write than an unproductive five hours with only one of them actually spent writing. Without M.E., I never would have riddled it out and found a method I somewhat prefer. It's an odd one. It's also not ideal, as realistically I know I would be better off with one session of writing a day or else I start having to swap out my capability to do any sort of cleaning or chore beyond basic needs in November completely, but for a few weeks, sure. I can do it.
I do sometimes miss that vigour that came with 2016's Nano, and how many words I could breeze through. But I know my limits. I know better. It'll never be as easy as it was, but I know I can get there: and that though words may vanish and I'll have to look for whatever I meant later, as long as I keep going the words can and will still come.
Knowing what I had to do to succeed made the 2018 experience that much easier, because I had done it twice before: including finally finishing off Interregnum. And it was a truly emotional moment when I did, even before the final edits were complete. I may not be able to do very much anymore, but I don't have to give up writing. When the mood or inspiration strikes, I can do it.
I can make my mark on a world I am so often denied in some small way.
