I have two past NaNo wins, printed out, and tossed into drawers never to be looked at again. Okay, that's a lie. One I can't find, and the other I did take out and read just for a laugh. And it is indeed laughable. And no one except me will ever see it, ever.
NaNoWriMo writing, for me anyway, is different from any other. I don't pause. I rarely look back to see what heinous crimes I've committed against the English language until I am done. This is not my usual writing style. I have to crabwalk my way through a piece, editing here and there, until I feel it is "done," and I'm left with a fairly clean copy. (In the two short paragraphs I've just written, I've edited a total of five times -- scratch that. Six times.) I don't really draft or plot in any discernible way; therefore, my NaNo novel is a steaming dungheap affectionately known as a "first draft," or more aptly a "shitty first draft." And that is a truly alien concept to me.
I made the mistake of reading NaNo's forums, which are now set up for those who want to talk about novel "aftercare": the editing and revising of said dungheap. Apparently, some novelists' revisions consist solely of correcting grammar and spelling gaffes. I wish I were just correcting simple typos. As it stands, I'm... I guess the best word here is "restructuring," my story. The middle makes a better beginning, basically, but I have to rewrite it first. It's like starting all over again, but without that panicked, unmoored feeling that defines NaNoWriMo. Writing is, like, actual work.
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