Somehow, stupidly, I’ve decided to take a plunge at National Novel Writing Month this coming November. Why? Because I have a million things to do. Because I’m chairing two national job search committees at work, and that’s not taking enough of my free time. Because I’m co-editing another book on nanotechnology at the same time. Because I’m an idiot with a penchant for the impossible? Because I like stress?

Whatever the utterly insane reason, I ultimately thought it would be “fun” to see if I could crank out a 50,000 word novel in November. Despite all of the stuff going on at work, I think this is something I can do — I’m often at my best and most productive when I’m busiest, as if being busy forces me to better structure my time. Regardless, even if I am determined enough to crank through the 1600-plus words a day, I don’t plan on becoming famous, writing any groundbreaking literature, or even necessarily showing the product to anyone: it is more for my own shits and giggles. I want to see if I can do it, and I’m curious about whether this would keep my writing fresh, or make it fester. If I end up producing something, and it turns out to be completely feckless, I’ll trash it, and chalk it up to a learning experience. If it has any kind of redeeming qualities at all, I’ll revise it, and work from there.

Writing fiction is completely new to me, so this should be a massive learning experience — still, it is one that is exciting, and exactly the kind of diversion that I think I might need to actually help me keep my sanity, rather than being the catalyst for its loss