But I also miss it terribly.

Back in October, I wrote a column about "National Novel Writing Month," a writing exercise in which participants try to put out a 50,000-word novella entirely during the month of November. It's a crazy, breakneck kind of event, more about word count than quality. It's goofy fun, but with a serious intent: it builds writing discipline, and (because you don't have time to second-guess yourself) it can sometimes unlock creative twists and turns that a writer wouldn't find otherwise. A handful of participants over the years have gone on to rewrite and polish their speed-written novels to the point where they could be sold.

More than 100,000 people attempted NaNoWriMo this year.

I finished NaNoWriMo in 2004, gave up midway in 2005, and didn't try at all in 2006 (I was in a play). This year, I wanted to try it again, and to write a novel which would be a fictional version of my foreign mission experiences, specifically my three trips to Kenya in 2004, 2005 and 2006.

As René Capley mentioned in her farewell column on Sunday, I've been managing the newsroom in her absence, since about the first of October. November was a horrible, horrible time for me to take on something like NaNoWriMo (as participants call it). But I was determined, and I think writing the novel was a release for me on days when I felt overstressed and pulled in different directions.

I wrote about a fictional character, very loosely based on myself, and surrounded him with a bunch of completely fictional characters, because I didn't want any of my real-life mission trip teammates to be offended by their portrayals. The novel incorporates anecdotes and situations from my real-life travels but weaves them into an entirely made-up story.

Then again, maybe "weaves" is too strong a word, since it implies a level of planning and preparation I didn't really have on this particular project.

In order to complete NaNoWriMo, you must average about 1,667 words a day. You can update your word count on the program's web site, nanowrimo.org, for others to see.

It was, of course, time-consuming. My apartment, which looks like a pigsty under the best of circumstances, looked like even more of one by the time I finished this year's NaNoWriMo effort. At one point, I was several thousand words behind pace (not uncommon, even among NaNoWriMo winners) and had to struggle to catch up.

But catch up I did. I passed 50,000 words soon after getting home from work on Friday afternoon, and when I updated my word count at the web site I was taken to a page where I could download a winner's certificate and a couple of graphics to display on my web site. As far as NaNoWriMo was concerned, I had won the challenge at that point. But I still needed to tie up my story, and so I kept writing that night and even Saturday, after NaNoWriMo had officially ended. Amazingly, Friday night and Saturday, when I was no longer on deadline, were two of my most productive days of writing, and I wound up with more than 55,600 words by the time I put the novel to bed on Saturday.

Past participants advise setting the novel aside for a few weeks before trying to rewrite it, and I am trying to do that.

I hardly knew what to do with myself on Sunday. I am relieved at not having that number 1,667 hanging over me every night. But I already miss the process. Through storytelling, I was able to vicariously return to Kenya, and my doppelganger even got to have a little whirlwind romance at the end of the story, as he was wrapping up his more serious responsibilities. I'm already feeling homesick for the fictional world.

Is this novel marketable? I have no idea. I think it's probably closer to being marketable than my 2004 novel, which I never really made a serious attempt to rewrite. A friend of mine has tried to encourage me to use one of those publish-on-demand services to make copies available online to people who want to buy them. But I think I'd be tempted to buy too many myself, to give to family, friends and mission trip teammates and supporters.

Like most writers, I'm usually loath to show someone a work in progress. But in this case, I sent copies of the first couple of chapters to two of my friends who requested them, with numerous disclaimers about how this was rough and speed-written. At the time, I thought this would be good because I wanted some cheerleaders who would urge me on to the end of the month. One of the friends has had some health problems and never got back to me about the chapters I sent her. The other one was, in fact, encouraging, and wanted to see the rest of the novel once I got finished with it. I'm curious to see what she thinks of it, although I warned her that, as a work in progress, it would be like eating raw biscuit dough or chewing on uncooked strands of pasta.

Even if no one else ever gets to see the novel, though, writing it has been a terrific experience. I'm still waiting for the group with which I take my mission trips to lock down their schedule for 2008, so that I can see what -- if anything -- will jibe with my responsibilities at the paper. But writing the story has made me long to go back to Kenya.

John I. Carney is city editor of the Times-Gazette and covers county government and other topics. His home page is lakeneuron.com .