I sketch scenes if I'm blanking on them. I reread previous sections to weave in development I'll need later. I took a day off to plan a strong foundation for a subplot that had remained vague. I'm putting out 500-1000 well-founded words a day on a draft that I can continue into December and beyond instead of gutting for revamp after the post-NaNo crash and burnout. I can dial back the writing emphasis while still making steady progress. I haven't touched art in a month, and damn do I miss it.
I still write the crap that NaNo encourages me to, as it's important to move forward instead of nitpicking over polish best saved for a future revision. Yet the crap in question is a reasonable first draft stepping stone - ineffective delivery of sound concepts, not concepts doomed to fail. Last year, I Leeroyed up a Jenga tower to fill in the outlining I had neither the time nor knowledge to develop properly. This produced a fair amount of repurposable good stuff on the fly, but plenty of structural garbage. I didn't see any sense in repeating the experience for the sake of a perfect NaNo record - infinitely less meaningful to me than writing the best novel I can and reinforcing the sustainable habits required to carry it through to completion.
Seven years ago, NaNo gave me a fun and frenetic kick out of a lengthy writing torpor. I loved the thrill of going from a bare story concept to Holy Shit, I Wrote All That? "That" ended up like watching someone else play an adverb-heavy video game, but it was an enjoyable idea farm to inspire a better story and a start on getting back into a once beloved hobby. The breakneck pace has lost its luster, but the joy of November remains. NaNo is still an encouraging communal time to write, regardless of personal goals and working style.