So if you're wondering how NaNoWriMo is going for me, here's the answer:
I've come to realize that the reason I've yet to FINISH a novel is that I ... am an idiot.
Here's what happens: I start a novel. I get into it. I'm liking it. It's working.
And theeennnnn the doubt monsters start talking.
The doubt monsters are big. They are cranky. And they are loud. They say things like this:
"What are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS IS SO STUPID!"
"This is lame. You should be writing something more serious."
"Do you think anyone is ever going to read this? Because they're not."
"And if someone DOES read it, they're going to know how dumb you are."
"Maybe you should go do something else. Like watch another episode of Chopped."
"Turn off your computer. You're not getting anything done anyway. Loser."
I know I shouldn't listen to them. They're not my friends. But ...
... I think they might be right.
I'm not giving up. I'm trying to think of ways to lock the doubt monsters out of the house.
But I'm SO FAR BEHIND. Sigh.