Welcome to the Land of No Return

No doubt you’ve discovered week two of NaNoWriMo, my current home. In fact, I see those muddy footprints you tracked all over the carpet, and I also see the discarded pile of coffee cups that seems to be growing even as I look. Oh my. Of course, I would offer to give you a tour, but since your laptop looks quite natural plunked onto that desk in the corner with the inspiring lava lamp, I realize I might be a little late for that. Well, welcome anyway. And next time, make sure to wipe your feet on the mat—that is actually what it’s there for. Or so I’m told. I, for one, do not venture frequently into the great outdoors, because why would I do that when I could merely rule a hundred realms within the confines of my comfy chair?

Oh, you say you’ve already been here five days? How embarrassing! Still, I’m not surprised I didn’t notice you sooner. You see, I’ve been shunning all forms of real civilization and carrying on conversations with nonexistent people in my head. But I digress.

Perhaps, though, you don’t know your way around this place quite as well as you think. Allow me to point out some interesting oddities. For instance, come join me in the kitchen, and we’ll inspect the contents of the fridge. See this coffee creamer? It’s Pumpkin Pie Spice—no surprise there. But you may not have noted the brand. International Delight is rather lovely, don’t you think? It’s much better than Coffee Mate, which I call Paper Mate because it doesn’t actually taste like a substance I should be ingesting. There’s also orange juice, and grape juice, and V8, plus lots of milk. Frankly, I think there might be a cow living in this fridge somewhere, because that is seriously a LOT of milk.

Ooh, come take a look at these cupboards—aren’t they marvelous? Let’s look at the tea—Earl Grey, Raspberry Royale, Pomegranate Green, and Chocolate Mint Oolong! They are a caffeine rush just waiting to happen.

But we’ve lingered too long down here, and I’m sure you’re eager to return to your laptop. Or your notebook. Or your papyrus scroll or cuneiform tablet or… Perhaps it would be better if we moved on.

When I am writing, I like small enclosed spaces and rainy days and that perfect blend of darkness and brightness, like the wedding of moonlight and shadows. Here’s a handy dandy tool to help with the mood. Be mindful, though, the thunderstorm can be rather frightening when cranked too loud. Cozy, huh?

Somewhere in this house, there is a newspaper I would love to show you, but the page with the article in question is the only one in the entire pile that I seem to have misplaced. Though perhaps I had help from the gremlins who also stage a multiplicity of phone calls during lunch break. Who needs phone calls? (If you haven’t read “The Murderer,” a short story by Ray Bradbury, I suggest you do so posthaste.) What was I saying? Oh yes, newspaper. I was procrastinating yesterday—a fine art that was developed long before NaNoWriMo but only reached its true glory when the site began in 1999. First I read an article about con men in the early nineteen hundreds. Then I skimmed one about Ebola. And then, I stumbled upon this little jewel. I mean, seriously—I live in Maine. Maine is full of deer. Due to an unfortunate grocery shopping incident, our new Subaru Forester now answers to the name Deerslayer. But shooting a doe with a rack is about as common as meeting a woman with a beard. Though not quite as awkward.

Well, you’ve been kind to me on this abbreviated tour of NaNo week two, also known as THE LAND OF NO RETURN. The inertia of a new and shiny story idea has probably begun to wear off, like the thin nickel plating on that expensive bracelet the salesman assured you was solid silver. You may well be rolling in great vats of words or struggling just to manage twenty. Regardless of where you are, you are most likely getting tired. I know I am. Even though I’m maintaining a steady speed, I still feel like I’m losing ground. This is because I’m forging into the wilds of a rough draft where anything could happen, which could be either good or bad. And right now I’m thinking bad. A few days ago, I accidentally began the long slow process of killing off one of my favorite characters, and now I need to think of a clever way to save her life, or else a meaningful way to let her die. So you see why sleep and sanity are absolutely out of the question right now.

Usually I’m calm, laid back, chill—except when it comes to answering the phone and killing massive spiders the size of mimics. But I’m starting to get anxious now. The newspaper is calling to me. My music collection is begging me to come sing along. In a great feat of avoidance, I made cookies yesterday. And then I walked for forty-five minutes to “clear away the cobwebs in my head.”

So I’m really saying this for my benefit as well. While it’s nice to distract yourself reading about the Bubonic Plague (which is still around, by the way), and the bloke who wanted to get swallowed by an anaconda (we must be terribly bored people), your novel is calling to you. Or maybe that’s just the trance induced by twelve too many cups of coffee. Be that as it may, now is the time when fear is at its strongest. And now, when you most want to quit, is the time that you cannot let doubt win. Because if you walk away today, in the height of your glory, you will regret it forever. All those unwritten words will eat a hole in your brain. Literally. (Okay, not really.)

So go out. Write. Conquer. Make a glorious mess, because with no mess there can be no further glory (or so I tell myself). Drag that book kicking and screaming into this world if you have to. Show it who’s boss. And together, we’ll make it through this. Then, when it’s all over, we can eat as much ice cream as we like, right before we sign up for rehab to treat our caffeine addictions. Wait, what?!