Why worry about things we can’t change, right?
It’s a damn good thing that every November I have no illusions that I write anything but 50,000+ words of nonsense because this morning I accidentally erased the whole thing and it cannot be retrieved. One of these days I may progress to writing something other than an extended autobiographical journal entry, but until then I’m not going to sweat the loss. I participate in nanowrimo for reasons that have little to do with writing something publishable. It’s enough for me to know that after ten years of doing this, I can still crank out those 50K words during a short, busy, travel-filled, often dreary month. The truth is, if I had to choose between not meeting the 50K challenge or losing the book, I’d lose the book.