On Wednesday, I created a plot for my NaNo novel.
I like to pants NaNo, because I think it just adds to the fun and general chaos of things. If my first NaNo experience had been one of structure and moderation, I probably wouldn’t be going on my third year. Thus, I like to keep things a little crazy by at least starting with no plot.
By Wednesday, however, I’d jumped three novels and was starting to drag. It was time for a plot. So I typed up two or three sentences for each of my intended thirty chapters. It was great. Life was good. I wrote a chapter or two and all was going according to my lovely plan.
The novel I came to this morning was not the novel I left last night. It was not the novel in my nice outline.
So what the kimchi happened?
Clearly, the aliens came to Earth last night. Something in my writing was going to expose their existence to the world, so they had to rewrite a chapter or two to steer my writing in another direction, thus protecting their anonymity.
OR, the government may have had a hand in this. Totally by accident, there was a key in my writing to decode secret messages, and they had to get rid of it, or risk their secrets being exposed.
OR, a map to my youngest brother’s candy stash was somehow viewable in the makeup of the words, so he fired up my computer in the middle of the night to rearrange things, thus keeping the location of his candy stash top-secret for another couple of weeks.
OR, my novel could be a changeling. My novel, my good sweet novel, was stolen away by the fairies and replaced with a bad, evil fairy novel. And even now, my poor novel is languishing in fairy land, missing me terribly.
You think these hypotheses are crazy? You should hear the first one I came up with: that the combination of my staying up late at night to write and the excitement of NaNo caused me to deviate from my plot without even realizing what I was doing.
I know. Crazy, right?