After an excellent start on Ravaged for National Novel Writing Month, I crashed and burned in the middle of November. First came the week of hell from the coordinated Daesh (I refuse to call them by the other name because it is the Greek name for one of my deities, and I find it disrespectful that the media calls them that) global attacks.
Yes, folks, there were more than just the ones in Paris.
I admit I was distracted by all this because I was watching them succeed in ways I couldn't believe. They want to seed their hate, and we let them. We help them. Real life elements of issues I address, or plan to, in the Justice series. But that's a discussion for another place and another time.
I managed to get back on track the following week, only to be blindsided by a penicillin-resistant bacterial infection. Fever, chills, incredible pain, sleeping twelve hours a day. Two trips to the doctor. Serious concern that the infection had settled in a major organ. The sulfa drugs kicked in time for cooking Thanksgiving dinner, but I had to take frequent breaks during preparations and then a major nap after our guests left.
It was the 29th before I could hold a coherent thought. The grand total was 18,015 words. I didn't bother updating the last 200, which I wrote after the wild finish to the Browns-Ravens game last night.
Some people would consider this a NaNo failure. I don't. My goal was to get a good start on the novel while juggling the demands of editing and proofing a couple of finished projects. I didn't succeed on the second half, but it just means my to-do list rolls over into December, and I keep chipping away at my projects.
Here's the thing to remember: I have finished novels. I know how. And Ravaged will be finished. I just can't tell you when right now.
On Not Writing
4 hours ago