After one final attempt with Carbonite customer support, I have come to terms that the novel I started for NaNoWriMo is gone for good.
A moment of silence for the lost novel.
(. . .)
Okay, that was enough time.
Monday night was the first time I got to go to the Monday night write-in and I decided to begin again there. No actual words, but rebuilding the cast list, finding my name list, and knocking down the basic scenes. Taking the debris from the sunken ship and lashing it together into something that floats and orienting myself back to the island where I saw that story. It was a short session — we were driven out by Christmas carolers — but it felt satisfying to get back to it, even peripherally.
It was strange. It was upsetting, to lose the words, but not crushing the way it would have been even a couple of years ago. So I write it again. So what? It will be better.
Tomorrow night is our Thursday night get-together. More prep work and also phase outlining of what I can remember having written. I’m feeling good. Confident. Happy.