Six minutes ago, I hit 50,031 words in my novel.
As per the “rules” of NaNoWriMo, I win! I won. Victory. Agapai!
But I’m not even close to finished. To stop now would be to leave the novel in utero indefinitely. Claiming victory now would be like enrolling my child in school while he was just a cluster of gooey cells; a confused little zygote.
It’s just a baby, unsure of it’s own identity. I can’t just leave it to die in the woods, scared and being chased by bears! I must guide him, and arm him with a torch and pointed stick. I must raise the child I have created and give him purpose.
As per my outline, I have seven chapters left. At ~2500 words a chapter, that is still another 17,500 words! So much left to say; a climax to hit; plot points to resolve; motivations to reveal; comeuppance to dole out.
There is so much fun and potential left in this story, the only admirable thing to do is finish it.
End? No, the journey doesn’t end here.
A wizard is never late. Nor is he early. He finishes his writing precisely when he means to.
