As the days fly by, I find myself reviewing my meager notes, (badly) drawing characters, and imagining the relationships between them. I've been practicing the present tense, doing daily writing exercises, and looking up ways to make my writing better.
This is all obviously to shake off my nerves. I'm sure of it. My subconscious is telling me to be very, very afraid.
I have a bad case of stage fright, and I'm afraid that I've picked up some bad habits, such as drinking a lot of root beer and crunching on popcorn at the speed a lab might eat its dog food. That is, ridiculously fast and barely chewing.
Of course, I've also disciplined myself to gradually write more each day. This is a defense mechanism I am starting to develop for the sole purpose of not dying during Camp WriMo.
I don't like coffee, so hot chocolate will be my pal as I struggle to overcome daily life with the addition of more than a thousand words a day. It will be a challenge, but I'm ready as I'll ever be.
Four more days.
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