Between one thing and another, I haven’t been doing any writing for the last week or two. Not good, because I’d set goals that should have been reachable without a lot of hassle. One of the things is that my Scrivener file for Camp Expendable became corrupted — again — and I just couldn’t face dealing with it again. At least I discovered the cause. It’s being dealt with on a temporary basis and will have a permanent fix as soon as I receive the 8 GB memory chips I ordered and get them installed. I’ve always known my Mac Mini doesn’t have enough memory, but for some reason it’s become critical lately, rather than just annoying. The other thing was an extended bout of being seriously under the weather.
As usual, though, I’ve been making notes for various WIPs, including Expendable, since that part of my brain never seems to shut down, no matter how rotten I feel. To NaNo or not to NaNo is still up in the air, and taking a good deal of my own working memory, which makes me feel somewhat like a NaNoWriMo newbie rather than a scarred veteran.
What makes it even more challenging to make a decision is that a new contender for my attention is shoving A Well-Educated Boy to the curb. That wouldn’t be a real problem except that this story is nothing but a concept and a few notes and short fragments. No plot, no structure, and not much in the way of characters. So why am I even contemplating it? That’s the 64 million dollar question.
The only reason I can come up with is that I’m bored with the two novels I’ve been working on and want to get into something new — something that’s a real challenge. And what’s more challenging than pantsing a story that is still just a vague idea? The first time I tried to do that was also the last. That was the first time I entered NaNo. It was a complete failure of course, because it was also my first attempt at writing a novel.
So there’s an element of: can I pants a novel now that I have several under my belt and know a heck of a lot more about what goes into a novel? There’s no way to answer that except by doing it. Which I may do. Or I may not. I doubt I can come up with 50,000 words in one month, starting out with so little preparation, but it feels like something worth trying.
It’s science fiction, of course, and somewhere in the neighborhood of Clarke’s Childhood’s End. Just barely in the neighborhood. And it will be my seventh year of doing NaNo if I don’t count the first two years of trying to figure out the whole noveling thing and failing miserably.