Not bad for forty five minutes of writing. Exceptionally bad for an entire evening of napping.

Today I had planned on hitting that halfway point. In fact, I had that planned for yesterday, but social activities and my new sleeping disorder had prevented that. In fact, it tried to do it again today. I’m talking about the sudden NaNoWriMo Narcolepsy I’ve suddenly developed. It also doesn’t help that I don’t have a desk to write at. All of my writing spots are exceptionally comfortable.

The two seater couch in the living room with the cloud like cushions for your behind and back, with the wonderful suede-like texture. So soft. So… Zzzz…

Too comfortable right? So I moved upstairs and sat on my bed. I’m still not sure what part of my brain thought that was a good idea. I thought to myself, “That was an awesome line,” leaned back to enjoy the moment, and then woke up at eleven PM. Damnosaurus Rex. Well played brain. Well played.

This sudden surge of NaNoWriMo Narcolepsy has got me thinking…

Maybe I need more sleep?

How ridiculous a notion I know. I mean, everyone should be able to go to bed at twelve AM and wake up at six AM fresh as a daisy! Six hours?! That’s plenty!

Now I know I’m not a spring chicken anymore. I turn thirty next year… (OH NOOOOooooo… Midlife Crisis time!) but I should still be able to deal with only six hours of sleep a night for months on end, right?

Right?

Actually I’m going to blame a few things. Number one, my beard. It takes energy to keep a beard around. Not sure how Vikings did it, or bikers, but I said I wasn’t going to shave it until November ends. Think of it as some sort of lucky NaNoWriMo beard. It’s going to get me across the line! (Hopefully.)

Second? I don’t drink coffee. Period. I should start.

Third! Ideas! I love the fact that I can type a bunch of story up and suddenly after my random nap, I am disappointed that it’s after twelve AM but my brain keeps going despite the fact my body has shut down for sleep. After a nap, quite often my muse toys with me.

Fourth… I am trying to eat healthier. Today I tried my best to say within my weight loss calorie budget. I’m eighty six kilograms (which is almost one hundred and ninety pounds, or thirteen and a half stone for those of us still measuring in those) and five foot nine. I’m happy with my body except for the fact that all of my body fat is around the stomach which is apparently the worst place to carry it. I was given a Fitbit for product knowledge through work and decided to use it. Between being informed and wearing this fitness bracelet of thorns, I’ve never wished for a McDonald’s burger so much. Also, there is something horrific about tracking your calories. The TJ Special at McDonald’s is just over twenty five hundred calories. I had it yesterday during my first day of food tracking. For weight loss, apparently I’m supposed to have twenty two hundred calories, a day… It’s going to be a rough month.

Five is work. Work has this way of mentally exhausting me like nothing else. There are a million things that need doing, a thousand things I can delegate, and one hundred that get done. So I need to follow up on nine hundred things, while completing nine hundred and ninety eight thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine other things and there always seems to be one I miss. Damn imperfect humans!

So between Beard, Lack of Caffeine, My Over Active Muse, New Diet and Work… I am running the gauntlet of messing with my mind and body while trying to write a novel. Good thing my muse didn’t come up with that idea, or she’d be fired.

Now that the rant is out there, Alex (Otherwise known as Valourbörn in the comments below) has inspired me to write about my inspiration (see what I did there)! I can understand how some people say they couldn’t write every day. Not everyone can. For me? I personally could and that would be fantastic! Let me take you on a quick journey behind my creative process.

So, I’m listening to a song. The tempo is upbeat, the music itself almost sounds like it’s some sort of emotional tribute to a character’s push through enemy forces. I imagine the battle hardened knight, a bandana covering his missing eye, silver hair pulled back tight as he weaves and slashes his way through some sort of demonic horde. I ask myself, who is this man? Where is he? Why does he fight? What happened to his eye? Is there anyone else with him? Why are the demons attacking?

So I investigate all of those options. The man has been fighting the battle of the reach for two decades. They managed to push the demons back past their borders, however suddenly his team of seven has been ambushed. In his rage, he blindly rips apart demon after demon until he has avenged his fallen comrades. It will take him six days to fast and meditate for his losses. He must understand what went wrong, so he may avoid it in the future. His eye was taken the same day as his wife by demons during what is recognised all over the world as G-Day (Gate Day, when Hell’s gates opened into the world). The world united against the common enemy all too late and perished. The man has lived in Tokyo his entire adult life, and speaks fluent Japanese and English. The demons have invaded the world as the pits of hell have become overburdened by the world’s lack of morals and sudden rampant evils.

But then I ask, what happened to the other six? Who were they? Why is this Englishman in Tokyo? Who was his wife? What sorts of demons are there? Is it set in the future? The past? The Present? Is this the first time he’s experienced loss? So then from there I keep going. I just keep asking questions until there is enough depth that things sound logical (or make sense within the fantasy world). I get believable characters with horrifying (or incredible) back stories. Not everyone is born a hero, and not all heroes were always heroes. Not all villains were always villains. What changed them? How did they get there? I could write a story from this point alone.

The reason I write is because it’s a dangerous business going out your door. I play video games or read to explore someone else’s realm and know that I won’t be maimed or murdered, it’s a comforting thought! But I write because I like to visit old friends and meet new ones. I like to think that some people can change while others shouldn’t at all. I like to think that there is a depth to each person which sometimes characters simply have more of. It may sound sad, but some of the greatest people I’ve ever met, I’ve written. Well, also some of the people I’ve written are off the great people I have met too, so it goes both ways!

To sum it up? If I were left on an island with only one thing, I’d have to say some sort of Solar Powered Laptop. I’d never be alone and could go wherever my imagination took me. Keep on writing ladies and gents, three weeks left! Hope you guys are doing well in your writing!