Okay, so I wrote 1670 words yesterday for Day 1 of NaNoWriMo. (1667 per day is what it takes to reach 50,000 in 30 days.) I expected to detest every minute of it, but it wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be.
Yes, it's hard to switch off the yellow-billed nitpicker who resides in my head, especially right after polishing two books--one nonfiction and one fiction--in the last few weeks. Freewriting is such a different bird. I can picture it in my mind but it isn't easy to describe. A fan tail like a peacock, big wingspread like an eagle, buzzes here and there like a hummingbird. But it's also good at hiding.
My job during a first draft is to coax that freewriter into the open. I promise not to shoot her. I really do want to hear from her.
So yesterday it was really slow going and swampy for the most part, with sparse visitations from the freewriter bird. Then by the last 200 words I noticed a bit of whimsy and fun creeping in--some lightheartedly bad writing. Just what's needed during a first draft.