Against my better judgment, I’m tilting toward rising to the ridiculous challenge of writing a novel in one month. Sure, it’s ‘only’ 50K words (about half the size of Playa Perdida), but even still…. I mean, Playa took a couple of years to finish.
And yet, there’s something endearing about the ridiculous–as any parent watching a toddler eating watermelon or someone in love knows. Something inviting about a challenge, too, as readers familiar with the likes of Shackleton or Schweitzer understand.
November is a busy month–some important meetings, travel, finding just the right turkey. I probably should shelve this idea before it completely takes me hostage.