My NaNoWriMo Advice
I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to mention NaNoWriMo on my blog this year. I said stuff about it last year, and since I wasn’t planning to participate this year, I figured I wouldn’t mention it. There are many opinions out there about NaNoWriMo, and there are many folks with good arguments about the merits and pitfalls of the event.
I’m not going to address those.
I’m just going to tell you a story. Because that’s what writers do. They tell stories.
I used to write fiction–a lot of fiction. I started coming up with stories when I was too young to write them down. By the time I graduated high school, I had written my first crappy novel and a lot of bad poetry and angsty journal entries.
But even though none of that was worth publishing, I kept writing.
In the early 90s, I worked at a firm where I had a lot of downtime. It gave me a lot of time to write. And write I did. I used to take my floppy disks home at night and fight The Man for use of the computer so that I could put down just a few more pages. During those early years of our marriage, I wrote two novels and many short stories, and I came up with a dozen or more additional ideas.
None of it was worth publishing.
Time erodes dreams and goals faster than any of us would admit. Before I knew it, I had a house, a child, two children, four. Writing fiction was a distant memory–something I laughed about at parties. “Oh, I used to write fiction, but you know–nothing ever came of it. I don’t have time. I didn’t want to bother. I can’t make money at it.” On and on. I started writing commercial copy, and I found fulfillment there. It paid well, too.
Writing fiction was, to me, something dead and gone, a glimmer of something from my youth when I had more perceived creativity or energy or connection to story. I saw my creative endeavors as an indulgence or a vanity–something relegated to that same place where I stored my idealism about world peace and my innocence about the ingredients in a Twinkie.
Until November 2009.
I’ve shared my story before–how I was busy working as a freelance commercial copywriter when the recession hit, and how my freelance work slowly came to an end as a result of finished projects, ended contracts, and revised client business practices. Suffice to say, when it was time for NaNoWriMo in November 2009, I was without any commercial projects. A friend mentioned she was doing NaNoWriMo, so I decided, “hey, why not?” I’d had a seedling of an idea floating around in my head for three years, and I’d always wanted to see where it would lead, so I dove in.
I hit 50,000 words on November 10, 2009. And then I kept going.
By the end of the month, I’d written about 105,000 words of a story that was (and is) still forming in my head. I split it in half and started editing the first half. Eventually, after another 14 months, it became Ravenmarked, and I had four more books planned.
But this isn’t about word counts or publishing or pantsing vs. plotting. It’s about what happened to me during that month.
My Muse woke up.
(Forgive me if I cry during this part.)
I learned I was still a writer. I was still creative. I still had stories. I was still connected to that thing–that thing I’d let go in favor of . . . other stuff. I still had it all inside me. I was still a creator.
Does it matter that what I had on November 30, 2009 wasn’t publishable?
Does it matter that what I wrote in high school wasn’t publishable?
Hear me loud and clear on this part: All the words you write count.
If it’s true that the first million words you write are crap, then doing NaNo gets you 50,000 words closer to that first million. If, as Malcolm Gladwell suggests, you need to practice something for 10,000 hours before you become a star in your field, then count your 60 or 90 or 120 hours of NaNo toward those 10,000 hours. If it takes 28 days to establish a new habit, then count your daily writing appointment with the NaNo machine toward establishing a new habit of writing every day.
It. All. Counts.
All of it. All of the ugly adverbs, the passive phrases, the stilted dialogue, the pathetic description, the meandering plot–it all counts.
Did I hit a breakthrough in quality during that NaNoWriMo in 2009? Hell no. The book was crap. Even that first half didn’t really become Ravenmarked until about six or eight months after NaNo. Maybe more. And that was after a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and beta reader feedback.
But does it matter?
I wrote.
I wrote and wrote and wrote. I reconnected with something I’d lost or shunned.
I suppose it’s debatable whether that bit matters or not. People who think Ravenmarked is crap will wish I’d kept my Muse in a dark corner and beaten her on the head several times when she tried to wake. People who think Ravenmarked is brilliant will be grateful that I let her out of her cage.
But what really matters to me is that I became a storyteller again. NaNo gave me an excuse to just dance without fear of anyone watching–without anyone caring what I put down. It didn’t matter that my internal Editor hated half of it. It didn’t matter that my internal Church Lady said it was a pagan piece of nonsense. It didn’t matter that my internal Soccer Mom said I had better, more practical, more important things to do.
I had a reason to put all of those voices aside and write. Just write. Just cavort with the Muse and create and indulge in the feel of words flowing out of my fingers and onto a remarkably forgiving screen.
So here’s my advice for NaNoWriMo: You can edit in December. For now?
Indulge.
Cavort.
Create.
The same thing can happen if you’ve always wanted to write fiction but never found the courage or the inspiration. NaNo was the jump start to finding my muse. Since I wrote that first sloppy novel in a thirty-day dash, I haven’t stopped writing.
Catana, that’s fantastic. I think you’re absolutely right. NaNo is a great way to unleash that creative side without worrying about what you’re going to do with it or who’s going to see it or any of that other stuff.
You made me cry with you. Thanks!
LOL. Hey, anytime–glad I could help!
There are days when I am really glad we met on FB and then there are days when I’m really, REALLY glad we met on FB! This is the latter
You and I are practically twins with our journey of writing and how “life” got in the way of what we enjoyed. I often picture you talking yourself out of the dream much like I did: “There are a million people like me trying to make it big and they never do”, “I need to focus on the real world”, get a real job and save the dreams for later”.
I’m glad my Muse visited me in the middle of the night and bitch slapped me with the idea for The Chosen. Whether or not it makes it big, I still love my story and my characters and I’m proud of the book and that I was able to write the damn thing while in grad school getting my PhD!
You are one of my heroes girl! Keep up the writing!!! I believe in you and your characters and story. I bet the two of us will have twin castles right next door to each other someday and our movies will premier at the same time and we’ll get invited to the best parties
We better go pick out our dresses!!!
Shay, I just love the image of the Muse bitch slapping you in the middle of the night. I LOL’d at that. For real.
Twin castles! With moats! And murder holes! It’ll be EPIC!
Grumble grumble grumble. This is my grumbling face
.
Grumble all you want. I’m too busy dancing with my Muse to listen.
I know there are pitfalls to NaNo, but the truth is, there are a lot of GOOD writers who wouldn’t be writing if it weren’t for NaNo. I hope I’m one of them.
Beautiful. It wasn’t NaNoWriMo that woke up my muse, but I went through a similar process. I went commercial in my writing, gave up fiction and when I came back to it my heart broke open again. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks, Kimberly.
I think that’s it, you know? Sometimes, NaNo is the key to breaking that dam we build up around ourselves. Glad you liked the post!
Well said Amy. I did NanoWrimo in 2009, and ended up with a very cool novel, that is now kind of being merged in a weird way, with my boy’s novel. I never thought I’d try NanoWrimo again, but I am trying it this year, though in a kind of half-arsed way, to see if I can get the wheels in motion to re-write my novel. I started only yesterday, and haven’t done any writing today, and oh well, we’ll see how it goes.
LOL, Alannah. I think if you just try, at least, that’s something.
Good luck with it–I hope you make a TON of progress this month!
I’ve indulged in my creativity forever, but that’s in no small part because I had all the right people around me to believe that creative work is just as essential to life as practical work. And at the end of the day, I’d rather be writing than watching television (something I never do anymore). It’s so wonderful that you were able to break free from the lies that there is innately something “more important” than letting out your most inner artform. Keep at it!
~Ashlee
http://ashleesch.com
http://theDragonsHoard.bigcartel.com
The support factor is huge. I’m really blessed to have a good support system, too. My husband, my parents, my friends–they’re all convinced I’m the Next Big Thing. Good lord, that’s a lot of pressure.
But it’s nice to know they believe in me.
I know what you mean about TV–I hardly watch it anymore, either. I even gave up The Office! How’s THAT for dedication to the craft??