Well, I did it! I managed to write 26 out of November’s 30 days. That’s a score of 87%, which is an A grade. I can live with that. I’m not going to lie to you, this was the hardest Nablopomo I’ve ever done. It just happened to be one of those months when I had a thousand balls up in the air and some came crashing down and others are still floating up there. I’m not a very good juggler. Don’t ever let me join the circus.
There just wasn’t any oomph this year. No pizzaz. No get-up-and-go. The little gusto that I started with began to peter out somewhere around day two. I sometimes think I peaked, creatively speaking, in my early 30s. The last time I felt proud of something I’d written or photographed was after our honeymoon. Since then, there’s been a slow, but perceptible, decline. There’s probably some bell curve or historiometric data out there to prove my theory. But then again, they say some authors find their greatest inspiration in middle age. Who knows, maybe after raising children and going through menopause, I’ll come out the other side enlightened, brimming with ideas. Maybe I haven’t peaked. Maybe I’m just dormant at the moment, waiting for the right conditions to bloom.
Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented and cheered me on from the sidelines this past month. I’ve crossed the finish line. Hurray! Someone hand me one of those silver blankets and a sports drink. I’m going to go stretch and recover. I’ll see you all next week.
P.S. I just realised that it’s the first of December today, which means that I didn’t even have to write this post. Screw the sports drink, pass the bottle of wine!