A Novel Approach to Writing
For thousands of writers around the world, another November means another novel.
In case you didn’t know, November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), a global scribe-fest in which writers and non-writers alike clear their desks, warm up their computers, and fry their minds for the entire 30 days of the month. Their mission: Write a short novel of at least 50,000 words. And amazingly enough, last year over 20,000 masochistic souls managed to beat the midnight deadline on the last day and claim their prize — a listing on the Winner’s Page and a certificate verifying that they have, in fact, written a bona-fide novel.
Okay, so there’s no publisher’s contract or new car or big check awaiting the winners. The fact that they climbed the mountain is the true reward. Sometimes it takes a serious challenge like NaNoWriMo to get the wheels turning. (And feel free to jeer at me because I didn’t enter. I sort of had this copywriting thing going on. And I’m lazy. Maybe next year.)
So, how do these folks sit down and bang out a novel in a month? Well, here’s their secret — they sit down and bang out a novel in a month. That’s pretty much it, as far as I can tell. Participants are encouraged not to bring in pre-outlined material or drafts they’ve already started. NaNoWriMo isn’t about crossing every T and dotting every I on your beloved dream project, and you couldn’t manage that in a month’s time anyway. NaNoWriMo is about tapping the keys madly for 30 days, regardless of the results.
As challenging as it may be to chain yourself to a desk for that period of time, your computer’s online playland makes it even harder to stay focused. Some writers use specials tools to narrow their distractions. Software applications such as Dark Room or Writeroom, for instance, turn the entire screen into a blank page — no browser begging for attention, no email waving its little flags at you. For the really hardcore cases there’s Typewriter, which allows for — well, not much. No backspacing, no deleting. All you can do is keeping going forward, mistakes and all.
Why write 50,000 words of probable drivel? By doing so, you drop yourself deep into the creative process and keep yourself there for a month — a powerful experience. You eliminate that inner editor who usually stands over your shoulder and prevents you from trying new or crazy things. Best of all, you prove to yourself that you can meet that deadline and write that book. Maybe later you can rewrite it into a good book, or maybe not. But the book exists now, and you wrote it.
Congratulations to this year’s intrepid word warriors. Now, who’s in for next year?
