Week two and weepy

So I have a confession to make. On Wednesday, I cried about my writing project.

You remember, NaNoWriMo, the novel writing contest with no prize?

It was going really well, until the beginning of week two. I had about 16,000 words in and suddenly felt like quitting. The beginning of a story is fun to write. It is the setup, describing the places, the invention of characters, before you have to make anything really happen. Some really good writing comes out during this period. You start to believe that you are brilliant. Really, you do. The next bestselling author, even.

And then the story starts and it has to go somewhere. All of the writing is supposed to turn into a book. You know, with a beginning (easy), a middle (whups), and an end (crap).

I've written short stories, but I have never completed a larger piece. My goal with this contest is to get the rough draft (really rough) material for a novel. I want to do it and yet I am afraid that I can't. That I won't be able to. So yes, I shed a few tears.

And then I talked to Hubs about it. And then I got an idea about what to write next.

And then I just got on with it. This morning I hit the 20,000 word mark. Just 5000 away from half way there. I am sticking with it.

And keeping the box of tissues handy, just in case.