Well, I’ve joined NaNoWriMo – for the first time ever! – and am now experiencing a confusing mix of fear, excitement, disbelief, and anticipation.
The thing is, though I love writing, and think I’m a reasonably good writer, everything I produce is outside the realm of fiction. By way of an inventory, I can say that I’ve written business letters, proposals, poetry, e-mail, personal letters, newspaper articles, newsletters, marketing materials, journal entries, blog posts (!), and so on, throughout my adult life. It may seem like a fairly diverse portfolio, but notice the common characteristic? It’s all non-fiction. Even my poetry, though expressive and creative, was always rooted in fact.
In fact, the last piece of fiction I remember generating, apart from a recurring dream I have that I’m writing page after page of effortless creative writing (much better than the one where I’m desperately late for a final exam!), was in high school. High school! A lifetime (or two, or three) ago! What on earth am I thinking?! Why am I even attempting such a thing?!
Well, despite all my insecurities, I’m going to give it a try. If I fail, I can always console myself with the fact that I’m decent at writing non-fiction. But if I succeed… well, who can say what that might bring?