I have not been writing, at Disney World. I had lunatic visions of me coming home from riding roller coasters with the kids all day to sit here on the intensely floral sofa and tippy-tap my way into full fat word count quotas. That has not been the case. I'm too tired, not just physically, but inside my skull. I'm self-aware enough to know that the "I'm really tired" thing may be a cover for the unwillingness I feel to write that chapter I can't write.
I am not, however, sad. My fingers are not typing but my brain is working. My book is growing in the dark. I have only got 10,000 words, which is fairly disastrous, considering I have exactly two weeks to get done, and I'm not home yet. I may not finish Nanowrimo this year. I'm going to keep writing, to get as far as I can. If I get to 25,000 then I still wrote about a third of a novel. I think I will keep writing after Nano is over. I don't think this book is tied to this month.
If I can get over that chapter that must not be written, and just write it, then I think this book will launch into the book I have been trying to write for almost eight years now, since the day I put the last sentence onto my first novel, and conceived my first child. And if it takes me until Spring to finish it, well hey, I think I can find something to be happy about there.
I just have to write that chapter.