BY KATE FUEYO, Tampa Preparatory

It's week three and I'm trying to get back on track, "trying" being the key word here.

Last week, tired and burned out from Latin-Pliny-balancing equations-algebra-Spanish-STUFF, I took a three-day hiatus from my NaNo commitment. I imagine this is how characters on TV must feel after they've cleaned up their first house party and learned a crucial life lesson. Alright, sweetie, you've had your fun. Now go! Back to work! Or...the consequences will be severe.

The tricky thing is, my characters still feel alive in my head. But my inspiration is taking a nap. Arrows don't want to fly, thieves don't want to steal, and dragons can't really be bothered to guard anything. All involved in crafting my epic masterpiece seem to have decided to take a nice doze. And frankly, it's ticking me off. Hey, I say, waving my arms around the the proverbial white space behind the fourth wall, I created you! You will listen to me! You will tell me what's going on in your lives! It's the least you owe to the woman who made you exist. I am your writer. YOU WILL DO WHAT I SAY! The dragon pokes his head up, rolls his eyes, and goes "nanny-nanny-boo-boo."

Now I'm not a big fan of Adam Sandler movies, but if I had to live in one of them, I'd pick Click. The one with the weird remote in Bed Bath & Beyond from forever ago. Fast-forward and pause my life? It's a  NaNo-er's dream! Stuck? Too much homework? Really good elimination on American Idol to cry over? Take some time out of your life. You can write later when you're not desperately searching for information, writing 2,000 words on the Mongol invasion of China, or cursing Simon Cowell to the depths of Florida July. It's the ultimate superpower, and right now I'd trade almost anything to possess it.

Confucius (who, coincidentally, is the subject of my next time-filling essay), once said, "It does not matter how slow you go, as long as you do not stop". Cue the fortune cookie jokes, but the ancient Chinese philosopher has a point here. After all, the goal of NaNo is to finish something. Not on time, necessarily (if you want to be a professional writer, NaNo is a great time to practice your procrastination skills), just to finish it. Maybe I'll get this thing done by Turkey Day, publish it, get richer than JK Rowling and spend the rest of my life on a beach in San Topaz; maybe it'll wrap up with a half-butt conclusion in late July and have it languish on my hard drive until my granddaughter is looking for quotes for my eulogy. Either way, I've accomplished NaNo's true goal. Or so I tell myself. The dragon is still sleeping. If it keeps being this feisty, I'm thinking of killing it off.