Alas, this is defeat!
Actually, 'defeat' may be the wrong word. I'm giving up; I haven't been beaten. I might be able to finish if I want to but I don't want to. The fight's gone out of me. Or, rather, it's been absorbed by other things in my life that must take priority. In order for me to still be fighting in December something had to give in November.
That something was NaNoWriMo unfortunately.
I picked the wrong story for starters.
Why did I think that something which had slipped between forms, setting and characterisation for the past eight years would settle down so easily? Optimism? Well, I'm hardly an optimist by nature but perhaps. Either way, I made a bad choice and failed. I could easily just write another 45,000 words of drivel but I haven't got time to be doing that right now. At least last year I knew whatever draft I had at the end of November I could do something with. I don't feel that about this one. I think it's a non-idea. Or maybe it's meant to be written, just not by me.
Am I lousy for quitting like this? Well, maybe. Right now I certainly feel like I'm a teeny-weeny mouse looking up to be stepped on by all the superior writers out there. But, to use my new favourite phrase, I feel like someone strapped an anchor to my chest. Surely I need to unhook myself before I can do anything constructive?