(This post was originally written on 750words.com. It has been edited.)

I’m going to be really awful and lazy tonight and call the day a wash. This is my semi-weekend. I can get lots written over the next three days to make up for the last three days. And besides, no matter what the stats say, Nano is about writing 50k in 30 days, not about writing 1667 words a day. I’ll get there on my own time. I have to take my own path. That’s just always the way it’s been. I don’t know why, and I don’t know if my path leads anywhere, but I don’t know any other way.

So I’m kind of stuck at 10k. It’s a big number for me. Double digits. I don’t do double digits easily. I didn’t do this easily, either. The story hasn’t come fast. It’s not like channeling a spirit. I can’t tell yet if it’s the characters or the plot. Yes, it’s true, I don’t have much of a conflict to drive us forward. But I have a bunch of people I like who seem to like each other. And I haven’t figured out all their backstories. Those are the kinds of things that are just supposed to happen. I was counting on them to come when I started writing.

I can only use what I’ve written. But that doesn’t mean I can’t go off and write some random stories. I started with the winter break thing. I guess I just need to go further. I need to know how my characters react to all different sorts of situations, so I need to put them in all sorts of situations. And there’s lots of room built into the plot for flashbacks. They’re not flashbacks in my world, they’re campfire stories.

I’m not in the tall weeds, yet. I don’t believe in writer’s block. Not anymore. I might have used it as an excuse in the past, but not anymore. It’s like people who say they’re bored. Only boring people are bored. Only people who don’t write get writer’s block. It’s just bullshit. That’s where 750 words is so great. It’s a way to force yourself to just start typing. Making the clackety sound. Because you start writing about nothing, and pretty soon you’ll start writing about something. I wasn’t meaning to, but up there, my rambling turned into a tiny paragraph of writing that I can add to my novel.

It’s not real versus fake writing, but I don’t know what else to call it. It’s the writing you do when you know no one’s looking, reading. This is only for me. That’s why they call it stream of consciousness. But there are a few words, mixed up among these 750, that I’m going to copy and paste and add to the novel draft file. I keep deleting words, so I can use all the extras I can get. I keep deleting because I’m an impulsive editor. I don’t know when to stop. So I really need to write a lot of words. I think I need this novel to be at least 70k, so that when I start cutting and editing and sorting, I have a little room.