So, I’m debating whether or not I want to do NaNoWriMo this year. It’s not an easy thing for me to decide. First off, I got things I need to do. Not necessarily because I want to do them, but because I am responsible for them. You know, things like laundry and eating and bathing regularly and doing my classwork and doing my homework and showing up to things on time and ministry-related work and church stuff and taking care of myself and… I think y’all get the picture. (Though let’s be honest, while I don’t necessarily want to do all of these things, I do want to do some of these things. Work with me here.)
And then, of course, there are things I want to do. Like sleep. Or read and write and watch stupid youtube videos about cats and ponder things late into the night as I stare up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Alright, maybe not that last one. But you see what I’m saying? I have a lot of things I am working on, and a lot of things I need to continue working on despite my schedule being hectic and crammed pack.
And yet I still want to write above all else.
It’s like crack for me, for how crack is for some people. Bad analogy, but I think you get the point. I think you understand roughly what I am saying here. If I want to continue succeeding (and I am, thank God,) in my classwork and homework and lifework and church work and self-work, I need to continue to divvy up my time accordingly to what I am doing right now. Adding another thing into that mix is just going to make things even worse for myself. Or better. I don’t know, I don’t look into the future.
So let’s assume I am going to do NaNoWriMo this year. Let us assume I am going to through myself against the keyboard again and again until something sticks. Why the hell would I do that while I have so many other writing projects I’m working on already? And I’m not talking about my class work. I’m talking about my other, “just for fun” kind of stuff.
For those of y’all who don’t know yet (which is surprising considering how much I’ve talked about this over the years,) NaNoWriMo is when you write every day for the month of November. The goal is to write 50,000 words or more during that time into a cohesive story in one form or another. That’s 1,667 words a day, every day, until the end of the month. That means doing this through candy-comas and turkey-comas and dealing with your family-comas and etc etc etc. You are also unable to continue writing the things that you currently are writing.
So, for me, that means I can’t keep on working on Alex or Carlotta or Benji. That means I have to put aside those stories more than they already are. And that hurts, cause I want to see these stories through till the end (whatever that is, even I don’t know what’s going to happen yet). So the stories in which I am halfway or third way or even just starting, I have to “forget” about them during this time.
Not that I’m going to forget about them, but more of not write for them. Because any and all writing I do for them won’t count for that NaNoWriMo goal of 50,000 words. Which then begs the question, what do I do now?
Well, I could take any number of stories which are locked inside my head and let them out. But I feel like, partly, I would be doing them a disservice if I just spam a bunch of words onto the page and not let them see their true potential as intricately crafted stories as I can. Or I could write something else, something I hadn’t fretted and stressed over before, and see where that takes me. Of course, that has its own problems and faults in itself. I could find something utterly amazing and I can run with it until the end of time. Or, I could find something that’s utterly filled with tropes and pitfalls and whatsits and it can absolutely ruin the story that I am trying to craft.
So I dunno. It’s something I’m still working on. Cause I obviously want what I write to the be the very best it can be. But I also know that for NaNoWriMo there is a certain level of roughness that comes with it. I will be unable to go back and edit or re-edit the words I wrote the other day. I have to let them be. And that’s frustrating.
So what can I do, assuming that I am doing NaNoWriMo?
A series of poems? 50,000 words of poetry is going to be major rough cheese.
A series of letters? That could be a good idea, though whom would I be addressing them too? Or, even, would I writing them as myself to people I know? I could do it as person 1 to persons 2 through 10. That could be interesting.
A series of essays? That could be interesting too. Though what the hell would I write about? Especially for thirty different essays? Let me know what topics, and maybe? I dunno. I’m not even sold on the idea myself.
Coming up with ideas isn’t as easy as you would think. There are some people I know who just assume that we are filled to the brim with these good ideas. That we can just spit them out whenever, wherever, however, we want. And I know some people who think we have to think long and hard over each little idea, and craft it and craft it and craft it until it makes some sense. The truth is a bit of both. I would say that there are a few ideas that we as creators keep to ourselves. And there are a few we give out to the world. And there are some ideas that are made instantaneously and they are good. And there are more ideas that take time and dedication and love to create.
Now, we have just passed the 1,000-word mark. It doesn’t feel like a lot when reading, but when writing it? It feels like a lot. It feels like I’m ripping out nose hairs trying to come up with words that work well together to create a cohesive thought. It’s a lot harder than you would think.
But I’m still here, I’m still writing. Why? Because it’s my passion. It’s what I want to do. Which is why I know deep down that I am going to suffer and go through this despite any logical reason on why I shouldn’t. Why do I hurt myself so?
Because I know that if I actually go through it and write my heart out onto the page, exploring whichever idea or technique I wish to do, that I will be a better writer by the end of it. The different stories I have written throughout the years, I look at them, and I can tell when I put a lot of effort and energy into doing that. And I can see that each November (especially during my early years as a storyteller and as a writer,) I progressed significantly.
It’s far more accurate to say I wrote my first manuscript before NaNo. I had been writing since before my first year. But each year I have worked on one manuscript or another. And each one is better than the last. Most of them are completely and utterly horrible, and I won’t let them see the light of day. Few are halfway decent enough for me to consider leashing out to the world. Just a few, though. My first manuscript isn’t included in that, for obvious reasons.
But this benchmarking opportunity for me and my writing has continued to improve each November, or with each major story, I write. And because I have been pushing myself the past few years to try and make this hobby of mine a proper career, I have been improving myself time and time again in my craft. Of course, I say that, but that doesn’t mean it necessarily has happened.
But, if I never write, I never learn to be better. So maybe that is why I am going to suffer during this November. Because I know while my body is going to hate me and hate me and utterly hate me during this time for stretching myself to my limits, I know that ultimately it will be a good thing for me to do. I know that, as a storyteller and as a writer, that if I don’t write I end up hurting a bit of myself. If I don’t write, I lose a bit of what makes me, me.
That’s honestly a bit frightening.
Now, by the time you get to the end of this, it will be 1,667 words. Or more. Cause that’s the ultimate goal of each day of NaNoWriMo. And I think that I will post each day here, on the interwebs, for y’all to hate me for. I don’t yet know that I am going to write. So, honestly, I’ll take any suggestions. That doesn’t mean I actually am going to do it, but it does mean that I will add it to the thoughts that are still running around in my head.
And if people are still, after all of this, yelling at me that I should focus on my responsibilities that I need to do rather than the passions I want to do, let me say this: this took me just about an hour to write. That’s not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things. So let me do me. And I will let you do you.
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