I took yesterday off to rest. I can’t believe I’m still sick after a week.
Oh, and I somehow deleted what I had written today so I’m about a week behind now. Checking on Twitter, there are some people finishing up already. Must be nice to write 10,000 words a day. I wonder what the quality is like because I’m still finding it hard to shut off my inner editor.
After losing what I wrote and seeing some are done, I really want to quit. Then again, I can now sit up an type. There is still a chance.
I know the feeling, the same thing happened to me my last year if high school. Chemistry was subject I was dying to be good at, but no matter how much I studied, I could never seem to get things like chemical equations and stoichiometry to stick. As I looked around at the much younger students, I was horrified to see that I was the only one in the class that didn’t get it. At that point, I couldn’t live with myself, and I gave up entirely on chemistry.
Giving up is bad, but it’s much worse to admit it. Even if you don’t finish this novel, at least you can say that you stuck to it every day and wrote something. Even if November does pass, you don’t have to throw this all away, you can still keep this as a work-in-progress. Or you could save it for next November. Perhaps you can be comforted knowing that there’s at least one person rooting for you.