Week Two of Camp NaNo is upon on. Panic in the streets!
In all seriousness, I’m still not doing too badly with my word count. The project’s plot itself is still up in the air, but I’m not having trouble writing it. I’m sure I’ll find some sort of direction at some point, right?
This is the point in a story where I start berating myself. Maybe I should have had a plan, an outline, something to help me keep on track.
But I hate outlines. Sure, having an end goal is nice, and I usually have one for most of my writing projects, otherwise they’d all go off into space in tangents. For my NaNo projects, though, where the spirit of NaNo is to write something new and never backspace, never apologize about bad writing, I like to just go.
In the words George R.R. Martin, I am very much a gardener rather than an architect. I like to throw some seeds in the dirt, water them, then see what happens. Maybe a sunflower, maybe an elm tree, maybe a Venus flytrap. We shall see when it sprouts, right?