In a mere three hours, I will be starting what I believe is my sixth attempt at NaNoWriMo. My book keeping is a bit fuzzy. Those of you that know me know that I’ve tried and failed multiple times, but I keep getting on the horse. Why? I don’t know, probably because I’m a little crazy and/or masochistic.
To me, the important part is that I have fun when I’m trying. My discipline gets a little better every year, as does my writing. So I keep trying, because one of these years, I’ll win.
My novel-attempt this year is a social commentary on fame vs. infamy buried under a layer (or five) of vampires, the equivalent of Lady GaGa if she was made of magic and wrote Norwegian Death Ballads, and general depravity.
Will this year be the one that I win? It’d be nice if it was, but if it’s not, I’ll try again next year.
Because really, I’m not a failure until I stop trying.
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