Welcome to day number thirty of this year's NaNoWriMo challenge where I am proud to announce that I've officially met the 50,000 word-count goal!!! This is only a half success in that I met the goals of the challenge but as far as the actual novel goes, I would say that I was only about halfway done. I'm okay with this because as I mentioned in a post a couple days ago, this novel is meant to be a capstone to tie several other novels, that I'm adapting from screenplays that I've already written, together which I need to finish before I can complete this piece of work. Not only that, I also feel that I have another 30,000 or so words to have a legitimate working first draft.
With all of that said, I still see this as an accomplishment because I know who I am so I'm confident that I will complete this draft pretty soon in order to have a clear head to jump onto the next project that I need to get to real soon. As proud as I am to "win" a second year of NaNoWriMo, the world's taken me out of the celebratory mood that I was really looking forward to feeling.
I don't know what it is, but no one in my social circle seems to care at all about any of my accomplishments in a way that really brings me down. When it comes to social media, I will get dozens of likes over simple jokes or silly pictures yet every time that I attempt to share a personal success all that I get is crickets which is exactly what happened last night when I was still excited to reach my goal.
This isn't anything new. In fact, this feeling is what inspired my short film 487 that also got zero recognition at all. In the film, a child is abandoned into the race of life to find the finish-line on his own and then spends his entire life racing to try to find it. People come and people go but for the most part, this kid grows to be alone while keeping his eye on the ultimate goal. A lifetime goes by when the now old man eventually finds the finish line and rushes with excitement to cross over into the side of the winners only to find nothing at all with no sign of life around him so he just wanders off, no longer having a purpose.
This is how I feel after completing every big project that I've ever worked on, which might be why I opt to prolifically jump into the next race when I really just want to hide in bed. This also explains the "Why Try" scar that I burnt into my wrist back when I was young, punk, and stupid, which even then I felt was ironic because no one can ever say that I didn't put effort into this failure of a life.
Sorry for turning this so negative but this is just honestly how I feel and this is the only place that I have to express this. I'll be fine though. I'll probably spend the rest of the morning depressed and get over it when I get back into writing the remaining pages only to be disappointed again when I finally finish the actual draft.
Oh well, that's all I've got for this year's NaNoWriMo report, for those of you who were only checking in to follow my progress I'll talk to you again next year. As for anyone who checks in on these post in general, I will talk to you tomorrow when I check in with another post. Until then, good day and good luck to you and all of your projects.
The Wicker Breaker