Excuse me while I rant. :)

Nanowrimo, for those of you that don't know, is a month-long frenzy during November in which you write a 50,000 word-long piece of work, which you claim is a novel, but is actually a novella if you want to get technical.

www.nanowrimo.org

ANYWAY.

In my pre-Nano life, I had already written two novels. Two crappy novels--both handwritten--in spiral notebooks. One was 250 pages long, and the other was 374 pages.

I thought that I knew the meaning of having my soul stolen by a work.

My third novel was a Nano work. It was more of a personal thing that I needed to get out--I swear to God, I might cry if anybody ever reads it. And not pretty crying. More like angsty-teen-had-a-baby-with-Keith-Moon crying. You know. The kind where your eyes are puffy, you're making those death-scrape sobbing noises, and oops, you've just thrown the TV out the window.

My fourth novel? Oh, I committed a cardinal sin.

I told my muse that he was my muse. And my muse is my boyfriend.

(Yes, we're still dating.)

He got so excited. He couldn't believe that he--HE--had inspired a character in one of my novels. Well, I got excited, too. So excited, in fact, that I told him that the novel would be his Christmas present. I met my 50,000 word goal by the skin of my teeth, but I was nowhere close to finishing the novel.

I'm still not. After last years Nano, I felt completely drained.

I jumped into poetry. My writing style completely did a 180 from what it used to be (even my mom doesn't like it now). And I have no idea how to finish my boyfriend's novel.

It almost feels unfair. I promised him something. I didn't deliver. I feel stupid for telling him that I'd do this. But, psh, I thought. I've written three before. Whatevs. You want a novel? Here, lemme crank one out for you.

Okay. So I've been (in)Fertile (in)Myrtle for ages.

And then I had an idea for another novel. And it's been eating me up from the inside.

I was planning on using it for Nano. I was so excited. I've been planning out characters, outlining the story, everything--this is a big step for an impulsive writer like me (probably 80% of my prose is stream of consciousness, and I still don't know if that's good or bad).

But I feel like I'm cheating on last year's Nano. The file that squats on my jump drive, staring at me.

The thing is, I still love that idea that I had for that last novel that I never finished. But...I don't know. It ran out of steam. Kaplooey.

So that is my rant. Just wanted to say it.

I know I feel better. =D