For all those participating in both National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo), this chapter is for you.
She ran her fingers over the scar on back of his muscular index finger….
Nah. Backspace, backspace, backspace, backspace.
“What’s this,” she whispered as she stroked the calcified scar on his muscular left index finger….
It was Day 5 of NaNoWriMo and Belleluluflower had her doubts. Was her romance novel on the right track? Could she finish it? Should she finish it? Wouldn’t it be more productive to produce a non-fiction manual that would be Good for the World? She activated her screensaver, slipped into her flats, and headed out.
“I did this crazy thing,” she said to Coach, “I signed up for not only NaNoWriMo, but also, NaBloPoMo –”
Coach’s eyes widened. She noticed. “So, wait. I know that’s crazy. But I’m wondering if I should set this aside altogether and go back to my non-fiction.”
The coach took a deep breath. “Belleluluflower,” he closed his eyes, “Whenever there is extra stress in your life, you dream up new projects.” Belleluluflower looked sheepish.
“No, no, Belleluluflower,” Coach comforted, “Having so many ideas is a good thing. Make a list, jot them in a notebook, create a special document. But Finish This Novel.”
“Really?” she said. “I think that you might be the only one who believes in my novel –”
Coach smiled enigmatically.
“Except for my BFF in California; she likes my novel, too,” she finished.
“There is joy in finishing. There is fear of rejection in finishing. But you must enter the realm of Project Finished to move beyond….”
On the walk home from Coach, Belleluluflower called her BFF.
“Listen, BFF,” she said over the crackly transcontinental transmission, “What should I do? Maybe we could write a Great Legal Treatise together? Or I could go back to my Good for the World solo project?”
“No!” crackled the bestie, “You must [crackle crackle] finish your [crackle] novel because [crackle] and I want to read all of it as soon as you finish!”
That was enough for Belleluluflower. The Universe was telling her, through the availability of Coach and BFF, to get back to work. She fumbled in her cross-body bag and retrieved her key a half block away from her apartment door, ready for her slender, but muscular, fingers to pounce upon the keyboard.
At her dining table, Belleluluflower’s laptop awaited. She hit a key, and the interchanging beach scenes faded away, revealing her manuscript on the screen.
First her eyes, then her slender left index finger traced the calcified scar along his thumb. He flexed his hand lazily, as a lion stretches its paw. Then, suddenly, his muscular fingers entrapped her wrist. He pulled her close and she could smell his salty – –
The screen went back. No. Really. My laptop went black. And, despite some prescient warnings on the NaNoWriMo website about having one’s work backed up, mine, alas was not.
Was this A Sign from the Universe to stop? Or a swift Universe kick in the keister to own my project. I choose the latter and embrace my resilience. I found another computer, and, tomorrow, will see the good folks at Tekserve.