At the Edge

Two days into November with a not-so-blank calendar staring me straight in the face and I'm still wondering:

"To NaNoWriMo? Or not?"

Can I do it? Can I commit? There's no halfway fulfillment for me. It's all or nothing. If I start, do I have what it takes to finish? Can I see myself on December 1 being proud or feeling like a failure? Is it time for me learn that writing CAN happen outside of a nicely lit, well conditioned/heated environment with mood music playing, a cup of water, and a quiet house? Can I prove to myself that I can write when I want to no matter what chaos is happening around me?

There's always chaos now. I suppose it's largely futile for me to think I'll wait for the chaos to pass before I start really writing again. I think those days of chaos-less-ness are over.

But can I do it? I always come back to this question? Can I write a novel in a month? Heck, can I write everyday? There's the starting line. Can I write? Can I do it even if I never actually got around to reading up on it and doing the research I thought I should? I mean really, how hard can it be to know what to do? It's not about what's required/recommended by the program.

It's all about what's required of me.

Can I do it?


Can I?


At the edge, am I ready to jump? Or am I going to talk myself back down to the safe ledge where I've been hiding for a year, throwing out blog posts and other small writings in an attempt to make myself not feel like a total writing slacker.


Is it time?



Sorry, not great realization here. Just still wondering. But today's the day. Today I commit and write, or I don't.


And I'm still not ready to decide. . . . .