When I was a freshman in college, I discovered Nanowrimo. Excited, I emailed my creative writing professor about mentioning it in class, thinking it might be a fun extracurricular activity for the other students. Although I didn't save her exact response, it went something like this: "Nanowrimo is silly, because there's no way a person can write anything but complete garbage if they only give themselves a month to do it." At the time, I felt ashamed and embarrassed for even suggesting something so foolish; but I've grown up a little since then, and now I know she was wrong. If you never write garbage, you never write at all.
Yesterday, I finished the last major revisions on my novel, Pieces of Pink; and honestly, I kind of feel like a super villain. Unfortunately, the part of my brain that takes care of prose has checked out, and the librarians say it's not due back until Christmas.