My Reasons

It occurred to me today, as I was skipping class to sulk in bed because of a candy hangover (tummy aches, headaches, etc), that I'm not writing NaNoWriMo because I want to hone my skills. I'm not writing it because I want to create something decent. I'm not writing it because I want to watch a plot of mine unfold in a solid, physical, public form. I'm not writing it because I want to give my characters something to do. I'm not writing it to try to prove anything to myself, or even anyone else. I'm not writing it for the challenge. I'm not writing it for the attention (even though I'm slowly gathering quite a bit from around campus). I'm not writing it because I want to.

I'm writing it because I CAN. It's there, the idea of this, this thing... this NaNoWriMo... this MONSTER simply exists. I'm not writing to fight it, oh no, I'm writing because IT'S THERE. To leave it left untouched would nag me to no end. I need to participate, to get out there and do something with myself. I have no reason, other than the reason that it exists.

It's a lot like a alcohol to me. In the end, there's not much point to it, but it's THERE, right within my reach, for me to take a nice, big, long swig in a very limited time. It's there for me to take. It's free and it's within my grasp.

But most of all, it's what it does to me. I hate the work - just like I don't like the time and effort it takes a tank like me to get intoxicated, I don't like the time and effort it takes me to finish and wrap up all the fucking stories that fly around my head. But when the bottle is down and empty it just feels so good. I'm so carefree, de-stressed, I have fun, and it's the only time I'm truly calm and my multiple and tangled thoughts aren't driving me mad. With NaNoWriMo, it's like, "Do it, finish it, and get it done RIGHT or you get NOTHING."

Maybe it's greed, then. Maybe, for me, looking at the NaNoWriMo webpage just makes my head go "GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE!" In the end it doesn't matter how much I wrote or how long (or rather, soon) it took me to do it, and it doesn't really matter that I did it, it's just the fact that it was there, and I didn't overlook it.

I don't know, it's really hard to explain. It's almost like I'm doing it for the hell of it, but...


AHA. Just figured it out. I joined a facebook group last year for NaNo, now that I recall, and the title of the group tells it like it is.

"I'm Writing a Novel in a Month Because I'm a Mental Masochist."

Or something like that. Ahahaha. Maybe that's it, then. Hehehe.