Post-NaNoWriMo Recovery

It has been four days since NaNoWriMo ended. I managed to complete the challenge on the 29th, though I had to add an extra mini-scene in order to appease NaNo's word count algorithm or whatever it used in that validation box thingie. Stupid thing was about 200 words off...

Anyway, it's been four days since the challenge. I can feel my fingers itching to continue the story. Here at work, where I write for social media, my hands want to grab a pen and start writing again. My fingers want to open a word doc and add a new scene. That compulsion to "Go Go GO!" is still there. And yet, life goes on.

This past weekend, I attended my best friend's baby shower. The event was also a recovery period for her because she also completed the challenge. She's rather proud of herself because she has nearly 100 pages of a story that didn't exist before... both the fleshed out story and the pages. This is the biggest project she's completed of this nature. I'm very proud of her, and eagerly await little Ava.

This past weekend, I helped my boyfriend rearrange some furniture. Specifically, one of my bookshelves. We have a wall-o-books now and an empty corner that, is temporarily housing a keyboard until we can replace it with a treadmill or some other exercise device, if it'll fit. The keyboard will return to its spot in front of my bookshelves, where Ember has continued to lay despite not having a "roof" over her head. Her spot is her spot, regardless of what's there, I suppose.

This past weekend, I finished reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and last night, I finished Walk Two Moons, which will soon be signed at another Drue Heinz literary event. Freakin' thing made me cry.

This past weekend, I did not write. But last night I did. The itching fingers got the better of me and I managed to jot down a few ideas while at work, and fleshed them out a bit at home. I didn't hit NaNoWriMo's required word count, but that's okay. A thousand words is still a great accomplishment for a regular day.

Despite completing NaNoWriMo, I feel like I have failed just because I didn't write this weekend. Everyone needs a break from the insanity that was November. But was it really insanity? Most of my writing occurred late at night, at least around 8 or 9 for a couple hours. I didn't fret nearly as much as other people seem to, and yet I still fell behind. My best friend would do writing sprints while using an online app as inspiration to keep pushing. Then she would sit down and use a notebook and pen to write thousands of words during the night. She had the schedule to manage nocturnal writing, and I'm impressed that she managed to do so much in such a short amount of time. But are our accomplishments different? Why do I feel as if she is more of a writer than I am, despite the fact that I got the degree?

Why do I feel like I haven't yet earned this degree?