Around this time last year I had a conversation with my wife that went something like this:

Wife: Have you heard of NaNoWriMo?

Me: That thing where you try to write a 50,000 word novel in a month?

Wife: Yeah. You should do it.

Me: No.

Wife:  But you’re a writer. You could do it.

Me: No. Trying to do that would kill me.

I’ve written one novel. It took me almost a year and it drove me more than a little insane. At the time of that conversation, I’d just finished it. Doing a novel in a month sounded impossible at the time. While I chose not to participate, 165,000 decided they would. Of those, only 30,000 succeeded. That’s a completion rate of just over 18%. Less than one in five. I had made the right choice.

HOWEVER, as a writer and a husband I felt just a little chickenshit. Let’s face it, when an attractive girl asks any guy “Can you do it?”, it doesn’t really matter what ‘it’ is, we want to be able to say, “Of course I can.”  And in this case, it’s my wife. One of the nicest parts of being married is having only one girl you’re trying to impress and so while I didn’t participate last year, I kept thinking about it.

This year, I’m ready. I’ve got the idea, a rough outline, and a plan. I’m getting as many social obligations out of the way before the end of the month as I possibly can. I’m writing something every day just to write.  I’ve even consulted with my HR department at my job to make sure I can take a day or two off if it gets towards the end of the month and I need the time. November 1st, I start writing my second novel.

Wish me luck.



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