Tonight, for example, I wrote about 3000 words that might not make the final edit. It's personal, family stuff around my female main character. And I didn't got all wingerific over it - bemoaning the fate of my 3000 words. Since this is the prequel to the trilogy I was writing, I have tons of backstory, I am crazy about the world, I know this is The One, like Morpheus knew that Neo was The One, even thought Neo wasn't convinced he was The One. I know there is no spoon. I wrote something that might only be for myself (depending on if I can make a Dragongar look guilty of a crime.... that part of the plot is a little bit up in the air.) But I enjoyed the words. I enjoyed the flow. I found some real depth of character, and... I am sorry to go all artisty, I think I delved into some stuff about myself. We all put a little bit of ourselves, our history and our hang ups in our work, right? Dysfunction. I has it.
Also, I have a confession to make. Ok - big intake of breath. I. Am. Writing. From. An. Outline. I don't know how it happened. I didn't plan it, like that whole sparklepeaches, tt42 throwdown challenge (inside reference to mah AW Crew - what up, AWers?!) I just started jotting my first few scenes, like always (cuz if dummy doesn't write it down, dummy doesn't remember it) and next thing I know... I've got two pages of an outline. For reals. I have added a few scenes, and I'm keeping my outline updated (so there isn't that 29 page synopsis fiasco that happened last time.)
So. In short: NaNo - goin' awesome. Wordcount: on track. Writing from an outline: Not dead yet. It's a miracle.