This morning I made a tragic mistake.
I decided to review all the notes I had written on this years NaNoWriMo project. Months ago I had sat down with sticky notes, index cards, a pack of highlighters, and a 70 page spiral notebook.
They started the process all shiny and new looking.
They ended it battered and worn.
Somewhere in there though, there was a story. A tale that needed to be told. It was full of interesting characters and mind bending plot twists. It had humor and horror and anger and tears, even a mechanical rabbit named Pike.
It was going to be wicked fun sitting down this November as the fall faded into winter and taking the journey of NaNo with that battered old notebook.
What mistake did I make you ask?
I went back and read my notes.
Things change with time, so do people. Even ideas evolve.
I have changed since last winter, when I sat down to draw up a plan for the coming year amidst the wreckage of what last years NaNo turned into. Things that were high in my mind then are simply not that important anymore.
It may just be me getting older, I am not really sure.
The story in my notes though, I no longer think that it is something I want to write.
The plot, the setting, all of it seems dead to me now.
I think it’s time to walk away from that project, grab myself another shiny new notebook, and start over.
At the same time it saddens me, I am looking forward to it.