I love NaNoWriMo. The first few years I took part, I made great friends. It’s weird because writers are often introverts and writing is a solitary activity.

Yet, there I was, typing away in a coffee shop, sometimes in silence and sometimes commiserating with a fellow writer.

“What’s your word count?”

“Why am I doing this?”

“I don’t know how to kill this character.”

“Do you have a penguin in your story yet?”

You never knew what topics a bunch of people writing novels in a room together will come up with.

I’m not taking part this year. It just isn’t the year for wild noveling. It hardly feels like the year for methodical novel-finishing either.

Here this post swerves.

Last night when I started writing, tiredness took over. I couldn’t think where I wanted this post to go. I saved the draft and shut down my computer. While I was getting ready for bed, an idea came to. Whole sentences appeared. I thought, “I need to write this down.”

Then I remembered I shut off the computer, turned off lights, changed into my pajamas. It was midnight and the alarm was set for 6 in the morning. I told myself to go to bed. I could finish the post later.

But you know what happened.

Now I can’t remember the perfect idea I had last night. Probably it will come back when I’m getting ready for bed and the house is quiet. It is ever thus.

Sure. Maybe the idea I had was rubbish. It certainly wasn’t the idea that could change my life. It just felt like the right idea. It was the light that clicked on. But again, I’m too tired.

What’s the lesson? Listen to the muse? Stay up even later?

Plan better?

But it is what I love about NaNoWriMo. You stay up late. You write down that sudden idea. You sort it out later. And you meet people who understand. I miss it.

Thanks for reading!