NaNoWriMo: Who Should, Who Should Not?

November is National Novel Writing Month. It's actually international, and no one has high expectations that anyone is going to have a polished novel in thirty days. But still.

The idea is to put down 50,000 words between November 1st and November 30th. (Again, I've never seen a 50,000 word novel, but there aren't any rules that say you can't write more—and a surprising number of people manage 90,000 and more.)

Participants are encouraged to start from scratch and just enjoy a word blow-out. If I felt like I had a "free" thirty-day period to get goofy with writing, the starting from scratch concept would be a kick. And if in the end, all I had was a pile of garbage, it still would be a fun experiment.

Last year, my first year, I decided to add 50,000 words to the project I was working on. It was fun, I loved the encouragement from the emails, and although I did not hit 50,000 words, I wrote quite a few. A lot of them keepers.

Who should participate in NanoWriMo?

If you have a new story brewing around in your brain, Nano would be a great way to get it off the ground.

If you want to add 50,000 words to the manuscript you're currently working on, it's perfect.

If you tend to work on multiple projects at once, and can set the others aside for a bit, I think it might be like a terrific vacation to jump into fresh waters.

If you freeze up under competitive pressure, are notoriously self-critical, or feel the need to be perfect and edit everything over and over, NanoWriMo might be the perfect tool to work through those issues, which to some writers, can be paralyzing.

If you would like to see some terrific encouragement (much of it from published, big-name authors) show up in your mailbox, NanoWriMo is without peer.

Who Should Not?

If you're pushing against a finish line for a project you're working on, and you're concerned about it, this might not be the year for you.

Unless of course, you'd like those encouraging emails.

CR: Still reading the Joseph Finder.

It's all better with friends.

Finish Lines

Some people are great with self-imposed deadlines. Somehow they're able to assign an importance to something that, well . . . isn't.

Maybe that's why I'm lousy at this exercise. I don't believe.

That said, isn't the term "finish line" a lot more optimistic than "deadline"?

And THAT said, I now have a self-imposed finish line for the completed first draft of Rough Waters.

Rather than just pick a date and cross my fingers, I've calculated how many words I need to write a day in order to cross the finish line. It's just a first draft, so it doesn't have to be perfect, but I'm still looking at an extended NaNoWriMo(s) time period. It will require me to write more words, more often. It will require me to become more dedicated to this idea I have of myself being a writer.

I like to set some easily achievable goals (write a post today) so I can get the feel of crossing the finish line. My "love language" is affirmations, and this is a little way I can spur myself on. If your language is gifts, make sure you have a reward waiting. An especially good piece of chocolate, for example. Or a decadent bubble bath.

Here's to our finish lines.

"There ain't nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd 'a' knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't 'a' tackled it, and ain't a-going to no more."

~MARK TWAIN

CR: Daniel's Den by Brandt Dodson (and enjoying it . . . my review will be delayed because I'm leaving for Tucson on Thursday and will only be taking my Kindle. )

It's all better with friends.

Nano No-No

I have to say I don't know what I'll get accomplished today. November is a nutty month in my family. Aside from Thanksgiving, this month holds my sister's birthday (the 25th) my brother-in-law's birthday (the 28th) and my husband's birthday (today, the 19th). To increase the excitement (?), it's my husband's 70th birthday. Not only is it no small potatoes, but it doesn't even seem real. And you just know, there are some special things planned that won't be mentioned here in case he pops in to see what I've been up to. Sheeshkabobalino.

Yesterday was also only quasi-good. We live in Colorado. Normally this time of year, we are looking at high temperatures in the 50's. Yesterday? 80's. I didn't get crazy and spend hours outside, but I did take advantage and read on our deck for a while. I would've been a fool not to.

Dang . . . and here's another time waster. Some of you know I'm a major dog-lover, and this is a live web-cam of some Shiba-Inu puppies that are to die for. I'd never heard of the breed until my cousin sent me this link. A neighbor tells me they're incredibly smart.

But I digress.

I'd set my minimum acceptable word creation at 500. Guess what I did yesterday? 503. Hint, hint. After these next few days (giving myself a break here), I'm going to have to bump it to at least 700.

Anyone for a Nano in March?




Still reading Field of Blood. If you go back a couple of posts (and the comments), you will see that the author, Eric Wilson, actually knows I'm reading his book. Gotta give the guy credit for staying on top of things, that's all I can say.

It's all better with friends.

On Writing—A Few More Things

For some reason, God has me reading Stephen King's On Writing at the same time He has me doing Nano. There's a message there somewhere, but I have absolutely no time to look for it.

In case you're interested, yesterday was a lousy Nano day. Zero words. Chalk it up to Techno Treachery. Writing longhand may sound glamorous and more "in touch", but like King, frustration mounts when my hand doesn't produce at a speed that anywhere near matches my thoughts.

Today however, even with going to a movie and dinner with my husband, having a wonderful walk and visit with a friend, taking a shower, getting on "public clothes", putting on a face, and seeing to all of the societal things one should see to, I still managed to crank out 1,277 words.

Personally, I think it was because I didn't have to make dinner.

I was in The Zone. It was almost a shame to stop. But this scary-fear thing set in and I dunno . . . I was either going to become a lunatic and type until smoke came out of my computer, or (and this was my greatest fear) I'd write away until the flame became a sizzle, and the sizzle became a spatter, and the spatter became a pop, and then I'd be left wrung out and dry, never to write again. No more words.

But I digress. That's a topic for another post.

A thought from On Writing that has given me freedom . . . it sits right next to Anne Lamott (whom I love) telling me I could write a "Shitty First Draft" (her words, not mine—but they do create a clear picture). King talks about writing the first draft behind closed doors. In other words, it's just you and the story. No one else is peeking. In fact, he doesn't even do any research at this point. If he doesn't know squat about a particular subject, he just makes it up and waits until the second draft/rewrite to get the details right, if he actually needs them.

The first draft is produced behind closed doors (do you get that I love the closed door concept?). He writes for an audience of one. Not him, but his wife—the Ideal Reader. He imagines her reading the words he writes as he writes them. How cool is that? But he says ". . . my mental version of Tabby is rarely as prickly as my real-life wife can be; in my daydreams she usually applauds and urges me ever onward with shining eyes . . . " Still, he writes for her behind those fabulous closed doors. It's not until the first draft is done that he actually shares it with her.




I'm still nowhere near on target with Nano, but I do have a warm fuzzy feeling of accomplishment. Next month (or whenever) when I start to edit, I may decide this was a tremendous waste of time . . . but tonight? I don't think so. It feels too good.

It's all better with friends.

Nano pooh-pooh

Criminy. Yes, that's a word I remember from women who have preceeded me in my clan. Somehow, it fits.

Today is the first day of the National Novel Writing Month and I'm posting a pathetic 434 words. Well, it could be 433 for some odd reason because when I encode the crazy thing, something gets lost in the translation. That's 25% of what I needed for the day to stay on pace.

Or, it could actually be nothing, a big fat zero, because I can't figure out how to upload the bugger. (Another ancient familial nounish thing.) I've encrypted it so I don't release the next great Nobel Prize to the world before its time, but can't figure out how to upload it to Nano. Sheeshkabobalino.

Today was spent (after my morning walk and quick sit-down with writing) running errands and getting dinner ready for guests who were due to arrive at 5. The dinner and evening with our friends was lovely, but I lost on the other end. Know what I mean?

I'm not a night owl. My mind has slowed to the pace of a slug on sleeping pills and I just can't go there.

Tomorrow will prove to be almost as interesting. We are leaving by noonish to be hot diggedy-dogs in a box suite for the Bronco game. I admit to loving the attention and catered aspects of a private box (along with the almost private potties), but will likely lament the additional loss of writing time.

Just so you know, I took 50,000 and divided it by 30 and came up with the dastardly number of 1667 words. Per day. Every day. Which means that tomorrow I need to find time to write about 1900 words.

What have I gotten myself into?

Is a competitive nature enough?

Stay tuned.



Still reading Steve's On Writing. At least he made me turn off the TV.

Working on: Not completely doing the freak-azoid and urping all over my desk every time I think of Nanowrimo.

I'M OUT-NANOED!!!

I usually try and hide this time of year, and to tell you the truth, that still sounds like a pretty good idea. All of this eagerness and excitement for the month of November causes me to break out in a sweat and curdle things sloshing in the bottom of my stomach.

If only I had a rabbit hole handy.

November is National Novel Writing Month. I've been unable to decide if it was shortened to NaNoWriMo out of affection or derision.

The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. It just happens that one of my busiest months of the year was chosen for the event. I'm pretty sure it was a man who selected November. Why not March?

People from all over the world sign up to encourage each other in this quest. There's competition and tracking.

And Good Golly, Miss Molly . . . I just signed up. What was I thinking?

Here's the thing . . . I need to learn how to control my Inner Editor. I need to learn to get the bones down without worrying about what they look like, or even if they're connected. I think adding 50,000 words to my current work-in-process can only be positive—even if I end up taking half of them out when I edit in December.

And here's a smart thing . . . I just got an email from NaNoWriMo with the subject: NaNoWriMo Loves Peg Brantley.

And this from the email: Do not edit as you go. Editing is for December. Think of November as an experiment in pure output. Even if it's hard at first, leave ugly prose and poorly written passages on the page to be cleaned up later. Your inner editor will be very grumpy about this, but your inner editor is a nitpicky jerk who foolishly believes that it is possible to write a brilliant first draft if you write it slowly enough. It isn't. Every book you've ever loved started out as a beautifully flawed first draft. In November, embrace imperfection and see where it takes you.


So maybe it is with affection.

I'll let you know.




CR: On Writing by Stephen King.

Working on: Adding words every day . . . not waiting for November.


It's all better with friends.