Not NaNoWriMo (But Similar)

I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year. I probably should have waited until later in the post to say that, kind of lead up into it sort of thing, but meh. It’s not like I can go back and fix it or anything.

Okay, I kid. In actuality going back fixing what I’ve already written is the reason I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year.

There’s something Chuck Wendig often repeats on his blog, a phrase, a fundamental axiom of writerdom. That phrase is not, “Complete thy poop,” but you get the idea. It’s good advice, both for writers, and those afflicted by constipation.

Thing is, for the writer completion doesn’t happen all at once. There’s that first stage of completion when you finish your rough draft, and you feel all giddy about finally being done with this monstrosity. Except, of course, you aren’t done. Then come the rewrites, and the editing, the beta reads and the queries, and, hopefully, publication in one form or another.

Put simply, your poop requires polish.

And this year I’ve got some stories that need polish. Two years ago I wrote a story for NaNoWriMo called The Dark Mile about a young man trying to deal with increasingly disturbing dreams and visions that seem to focus around one particularly desolate spot along his nightly paper route. It’s been sitting for all that time, untouched, while I’ve pursued other things. It’s been waiting long enough.

Several years before that, I wrote a story called In the Shadow of Doubt about a holy war that breaks out in a tribe of squirrels living in a tree that fills their entire world. I sent it out to a number of agents, received zero response and eventually got discouraged and shelved it. But the other day, reading back through that story I found that there was a lot to like in it. It needs a little touching up, a little smoothing out, but the bulk of the story really works.

So while the rest of you busy beavers and bashing your heads against your keyboards desperately trying to get to 1,667 words each day, I’ll be hunkered down here with words I’ve already written, trying to make the bad into good and the good into better. I’ll let you figure out which of us has it better. At least you have the luxury of some measurable metric of success.

Oh, and speaking of that:

I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about how 50,000 words does not an actual “novel” make. Not according to “the publishers”. I’m not generally disposed to bash of one form of publishing or another, but in this particular case if I were not a man of gentle words I would instruct you on exactly which sexual act you might perform on “the publishers” and in which orifice, and which brand of garden rake might be best for the job. Why?

Because A STORY’S LENGTH IS NOT A SIGNIFICANT MEASURE OF ITS VALUE. Did you catch that? You there in the back, where you able to hear me?

Your story should be as long as it needs to be. You can tell a good and compelling story in 50,000 words. You can go longer if you want —and if you’ve got your eye on traditional publishing it wouldn’t hurt to keep their preferences in mind— but don’t let anyone make you feel like less of a writer because you’ve reached the end of your tale when you wind up at 50k.

So to all of you out there, no matter what you’re doing this month, I hope it works out better than you could ever dream. And to that one guy reading this post on his phone while he’s taking a dump, well…you know.

Of Typewriters and Time

The thing both great and terrible about having a blog like this, is that it focuses your thoughts. It’s great because, somehow the act of putting one thought down on paper gives birth to another, deeper thought. But it’s terrible because most of the time you have the second thought, right after you’ve published the first.

Such was the case with my previous blog post. It was only meant to be an encouragement a word of help to writers who might not be keeping up with the faster ponies in the NaNoWriMo pack. But not more than a couple of hours after I wrote it I came across this blog espousing the benefits of something called fast drafting, and it got me to thinking: what is up with our obsession with speed? NaNoWriMo, Book in a Month, Novel in a Weekend, the list goes on. In fact I’m pretty sure that every single month of the year has some kind of “fast drafting” push writer can get involved in.

Now before I get too far into this, let me say I’ve got no problem with fast drafting or any of these other writing initiatives per say. There is a great deal of wisdom in the idea of silencing the inner editor to a point.

But consider these words: “First drafts are supposed to suck.”

If you’ve been entrenched in the writing world for any length of time at all, you’ve probably heard this mantra. In fact I’ve given this advice myself from time to time. But is it true? Or, asked differently, is it helpful?

From one standpoint, the answer is yes. Every writer struggles with doubts. Every story brings with it a certain measure of uncertainty and apprehension that what is being written is utter crap. As writers we have to move beyond these kinds of uncertainty and press forward to the finish.

But there is a danger, I think, in taking it too far. Your task as a writer is not to simply upchuck sentences until you reach your desired wordcount. You do not get to smear literary excrement all over the page and call it a first draft.

I know, I know, you get revisions and rewrites and edits, and loads and loads of chances to make that story better. But I want you to look at something for me. Just take a minute and look.

Isn’t she beautiful? I mean really. When they made this baby, they distilled the archetype of what it means to be a writer and molded it into a single perfect machine. But think about what it would have meant to be a writer with one of these things. Every mistake you make you had to manually white out. Every edit had to be retyped. And cutting and pasting involved actual scissors and glue.

Do you think writers using one of these might have approached a sentence, a paragraph, a story with a little more caution? Do you think they might have lined up the words in their heads before they started hammering away at those keys, to be absolutely sure they were saying what they wanted to say in the most effective manner possible? I dare say they might.

But now computers have made things easy. And in a sense I’m thankful for it. I’m really glad I don’t have to use whiteout every time I misspell a word. But easy doesn’t always mean better, and it seems that words have lost some of their weight now that they can exist only in the ether of the electronic world.

I do not intend to discourage you from the practice of writing quickly, but rather I want to admonish you to write with purpose. If you are a writer you have chosen a noble path. You have the power to change the world with words. Do not ever use that power lightly, whether you are on your first draft or your fiftieth.

And if you approach that first draft with the proper focus, if you take the time you need to write the best story you can, it will be far easier to build on that foundation in the following drafts.

Nailing NaNoWriMo: Or Not

So NaNoWriMo is under way and I’m sure all of you are demolishing your word count goals, right? Right? Well, for those of you who can answer in the affirmative, I offer you my congratulations.

But it has come to my attention that there are some of you who are struggling. You’ve already fallen woefully far behind in the race and it’s looking more and more like you’re not going to be able to complete things on time. It’s only a few days in, but already you’re thinking you bit off more than you could chew. 1,667 words per day? What kind of masochist would put themselves through that kind of torture?

If you’re in the second group then I’d like you offer you my congratulations as well.

I know, I know, you’re thinking, “Whatever, it’s not like it matters. I just can’t keep up with the rest of you speed demons. Maybe this writing thing just isn’t for me.”

Hey now, lets not hear that kind of bummery. Turn that frown upside down, fellow-writer. Actually, never mind, that sounds like it might hurt. Instead, why not flex different facial muscles in such a manner that the corners of your mouth turn up rather than down? Because I am about to impart precious nugget of writing encouragement.

Here’s the thing: not everyone writes at the same speed.

Some of you just aren’t “there” yet. When I started writing I set a goal of a thousand words a day, and those thousand words were tough. I looked at NaNoWriMo and thought, “What, are you kidding? 1,667 words every day? That…that’s impossible.” And for me, at the time, it practically would have been impossible. Maybe you’re in the same boat. Speed in writing comes with time and practice.

Some of you just don’t have the time. I know, I know, writers make time to write, and that’s all well and good, but I can testify that making that time is a whole lot harder this year than it was last year. Why? Well for one thing I’ve got foster kids now. Also, my wife isn’t working which means in order to make writing time sometimes I have to say, “No I don’t want to go down and browse though that awesome antique mall with you. Spending time with the characters in my novel is far more important than spending time with the woman I married in real life.” Add on top of all that the fact that I’m working full-time, and trying to get ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I can say to the writers struggling to find time out there, I feel your pain.

And some of you just aren’t cut out to write, 1,667 words per day. Which is fine. Not all writers are cut from the same mold. (For instance, I was cut from that black mold that grows on your walls, and makes you sick sometimes. Don’t bleach me bro!) Not everyone can be Steven King and churn out six pages a days. Somebody’s got to be James Joyce, and obsess over the correct order of words in a single sentence for hours. Can you imagine how he would have reacted to NaNoWriMo?

But no matter what type of writer you are, the most important thing to remember is that NaNoWriMo is a tool. It’s a source of encouragement and common energy among writers, a chance to set an audacious goal and fight to meet it. But not every tool is right for every job.

So keep on plugging. And if you can’t keep up with the rest of the speed demons out there, don’t get too discouraged.

Always remember: NaNoWriMo does not define you. One single month out of the year will not make you a writer. The true test of your mettle is what you do with the other eleven.

Nailing NaNoWriMo: The Importance of Momentum

It’s finally here! That’s right ya’ll, NaNoWriMo is finally upon us, and just in time too. If I’d had to wait any longer I think the story I was planning would have torn itself out of my head, and started writing itself.

Being as I’m spending most of my time writing my novel, posts this month will tend to be on the short side, but today I just wanted to drop a little nugget of NaNo advice.

Remember back in high school when you used to put off papers until the last minute and then rush to get them done all at once the night before they’re due? Well guess what? High school is over. (Unless, you know, maybe you’re still in high school, in which case, I weep for you.)

And yet still I see people taking this same approach to NaNoWriMo. They revel in the mad dash at the end of the month, trying to make up the word count they were too lazy to pump out at the beginning. Today I am here to admonish you, DO NOT BE ONE OF THESE PEOPLE.

The key to a happy and productive NaNoWriMo, in my experience, is getting a good start. If you set out to write only 1,667 words a day, one of those day’s you’re going to fall behind and then you’re screwed trying to make that shortage up. Instead, take advantage of that first-of-the-month enthusiasm and write more than you have to.

This is good for two reasons. First, you probably have a better handle on the beginning of your story than you do on the middle or end. Getting those first few scenes you’re sure of written early in the month will help you when you get bogged down later on in the details that maybe you should have planned a little better.

Second, the more you write now, the less you have to write later. Okay, I know, duh. But seeing that “words per day needed to reach 50,000” number fall can be wonderfully addictive. Conversely, seeing it grow because you’ve fallen behind can be super discouraging, and in my experience discouragement begets more discouragement.

Again, this isn’t rocket science. It’s just me trying to encourage you to go above and beyond what you have to do. Which, when you get right down to it, is the key to success in everything you do.

Building on the Bones, or: Why Structure Doesn’t Have to be Boring

[The following post contains references to STORY STRUCTURE. This concept is known to the State of California to cause people’s heads to explode. But who cares what California thinks anyway? Hippies.]

You know what’s fun? Watching movies after you’ve learned about three-act struture. Specifically the bit about the first plot point appearing at exactly twenty-five percent of the running time. It’s like magic. Try it sometime. Look up the total running time of the movie, divide by four, then sit back and wait for the midden to hit the windmill. It never fails.

You’ll be able to amaze your friends and family. Pretty soon they’ll be so amazed by your seemingly-psychic ability to predict the path of the movie they’ll have stopped watching movies with you entirely. Those brave enough to stick it out will remark in wonder, “Are you going to do this for every movie we watch?”

Okay, so maybe this isn’t the best way to endear yourself to your friends. But understanding structure is vitally important to composing long-form fiction of any kind.

However structure can be a bit of a brier patch when you’re first wading into it. For instance you might be tempted to say to yourself, “The first twenty-five percent of the book is spent on this boring ‘getting to know you’ crap? What kind of snooze-fest do you want me to write?”

Well, today I thought I’d share an example from a book I’ve been reading recently that follows the formula of structure to perfection and yet showcases the amazing amount of latitude afforded us writers within the confines of what structure dictates.

The book in question is Neal Stephenson’s Reamde. If you have even passed by this book in the store or at the library chances are you had to fight just to escape the gravitational pull generated by the sheer mass of the thing. Weighing in at over a thousand pages it’s easily the longest book I’ve read since the time I decided that Adam Smith’s An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations might make for an entertaining afternoon browse.

If you’re like me at this point you’re wondering, how in the heck is anyone going to spend two hundred and fifty pages just on setup? Surely when you’re writing a book this long you can skip ahead to the good stuff right?

And for a while it seems like that’s exactly what Stephenson has done. By somewhere around page one hundred we already have a bona fide bad guy on the scene and our heroes are off on a high stakes adventure. But then, just as you’re settling into the flow of the story, at almost exactly the two-hundred-and-fifty page mark everything is turned on its head. The placeholder bad-guy is unceremoniously killed off and the real Big Boss Troublemaker enters the narrative.

Right. On. Schedule.

It is only then that we learn that all the stuff with the hackers, the Russian Mafia, the ex-military security consultants, all of it was 100% pure unfiltered setup for the “real” conflict. And it wasn’t boring.

The takeaway here is that just because structure dictates that the first quarter of the book should be dedicated to setting up the story, that doesn’t mean that it has to be a total snooze-fest. It can and should have conflict. It can even have bad guys. You’re just not allowed to introduce the bad guy until that magical twenty-five percent mark.

There’s lots more I could say here, but the  main point I’m trying to make is that the three act structure is more flexible than it appears at first glance. I understand why writers balk at the concept of being “constrained” by structure, but for me learning these principles has been a altogether liberating experience. And whether I’m watching a movie or reading a book, it’s always fascinating to see how so many stories work within these basic principles.

With InBoCoLuCy (International Book Composing Lunar Cycle) just around the corner I think my fellow authors would be well served to have the fundamentals of structure at least knocking around somewhere in the back of our heads as we wade into the sea of words.

Don’t let structure tie you down. Let it set you free.

A Moral Abdomination

Fellow writers,

I, like you, have enjoyed the tantalizing fruits that hang low from the tree which is called National Novel Writing Month; I have reveled in the unbridled inspiration to productivity that period of time encourages.  But I have become troubled my writing brethren, deeply troubled, by the horrific and insensitive nature of the name of that sacred month.

National Novel Writing Month.  I spit out the words with a sneer of indignation, and a hiss of disgust.  For what one nation may lay claim to such a treasure?  What one country can take hold of such a sacred institution, and claim it for her own?

No, fellow writers, this month of writing should be open to all peoples, of all countries, regardless of skin color, religion, or preferred method of eating Oreos (I myself am partial to scraping the white from the inside of the cookie with my teeth; do not judge me fellow brethren).

That is why I am proposing that we rise up and alter forever the oppressive name of this glorious month.

Let those in Zambia and Lizben and in the Republic of Djibouti no longer quake in fear as they feverishly pound out their novels in the dead of night, hoping beyond hope that the brutal and pernicious NaNo Enforcement Squads will not catch them at their craft.  Let the world write freely and openly, without fear of reprisal.

It has been a long and careful consideration, but at long last I have decided that our great month of writing should be no longer called National Novel Writing Month.  Rather, in the interests of inclusion and the fostering of creativity around the world, I offer the following appellation: International Book Composing Lunar Cycle.  Or InBoCoLuCy for short.

Join me fellow InBo’s, and do not fear their terrible wrath.  Our lives may be forfeit, but the river of our blood will water the garden of creativity for generations to come.  Together we can make the world a better place.

Aspiring to Failure or: How I Learned to Stop Apologizing and Start Writing

Recently, my wife and I visited the local Waffle House for breakfast.  When we sat down the guy behind the counter told us, “Hey, I’m not usually the guy doing the serving, so I want to apologize in advance if I screw anything up.”

Suddenly, I was on edge.  I watched carefully as he took our drink orders, trying to read his upside down handwriting with no success. I thought, Did he get them right?  Will bring me Diet Coke instead of Coke Zero? A minute later the drinks came and they were fine.  Phew, I thought wiping my hand across my sweat drenched brow. Crisis averted. But I feared the worst was still to come.  When we gave our food order I worried he might bring me the loaded hash browns with gravy instead of chili, a fate I have feared since the day the menu changed to include that damnable option.  Only that moment too passed without incident. Finally, when we were ready to leave I scrutinized the check to make sure he hadn’t charged us for anything we didn’t order.  But, to my surprise, everything was fine.  The guy did a great job, as good a job as any full time waiter ever did.  But he started out by apologizing for himself, and from there on my opinion of him was tarnished.

I’m not telling you this to pick on the guy at Waffle House.  He was obviously tired, working a double shift, and he still did a phenomenal job.  But I fear that all too often we make the same mistake he did.  We apologize for ourselves before we’ve even started.  We think that maybe if we lower people’s expectations they’ll have mercy on us if we screw something up, but in reality we’re just making ourselves look unprofessional.

“But, Albert,” I hear you say, “We aren’t professional.  We’re just podunk unpublished writers trying to make it in a world that hates us.”

Shhh.  Not so loud.  Sure, most of us don’t have a book deal yet.  Some of us are still struggling through our first novel.  But they don’t know that.

Have you ever told someone you were an aspiring writer?  It’s an easy trap to fall into.  Only if you look closely, you’ll see that “aspiring” is really an apology.  It’s you saying, “Yes, I know it’s basically silly to think I’ll ever make something of myself with my writing.  Probably it’s just a phase I’m going through.  Please forgive me for thinking I could ever write anything but a grocery list.”

Why do we hide behind the “aspiring” label?  Because we’re afraid of responsibility.  No one expects anything of an aspiring writer. Aspiring writers are amateurs, hobbyists, unimportant wannabes who probably still live with their parents.  If they never produce any work of value in their lives, no one is going to be disappointed.

That’s why the moniker of “aspiring” writer is so dangerous.  It instantly puts people on the alert that we’re not worth paying attention to.  It doesn’t matter how much work we’ve put into our novel, or how many years we’ve been practicing the craft, as long as we keep saying we’re aspiring writers we’re basically saying we’re not really writers at all.

And believe me I’m preaching as much to myself here as anybody.  I’ve managed to cast off that deceptively comfortable label of “aspiring,” but I still hear myself hedging my bets when I talk about my writing to others.

The other day, I was telling a man about my book The Mulch Pile, and I said something along the lines of, “Well it’s sort of a book about brotherhood, and basically one of the brothers may not be everything he seems to be and there this whole thing with the father who…”

Do you hear the apology in there?  Because I do.  I sound ashamed to be talking about my work.  Here’s what I should have said: “It’s a story about a mulch pile that comes to life and starts killing people.”  Is there more to the story than that? Well sure, there are whole layers of nuance and narrative uncertainty woven into the tale, but the kernel of the story, the idea that made me sit down two years ago during NaNoWriMo and write the thing was basic and primal: “Mulch piles are kind of creepy. What if a mulch pile became a monster?”  Is it far fetched and ludicrous?  Well sure it is.  But that’s the point.  If I wrote believable and normal I’d be bored out of my skull.  And I have to believe that if the core idea was powerful enough to get me to sit down and write the book, it will be powerful enough to get you to go out and read the book.  I have to stop apologizing for myself.

I’m here to tell you that if you write and write seriously, you’re a writer.  Period.  And that means you have an obligation to act and write professionally.

Stop apologizing for yourself.

Are you imperfect?  Sure.  But don’t tell the whole world about it.  Maybe they won’t notice.

So stand up for yourself, and stand up for your story.  This is what you do.  Stop aspiring and start writing.

***

If you read Kristen Lamb’s blog regularly, some of this may sound familiar.  There is a good reason for that.

One Page Per Day

Writers are all about goals.  We have to be.  If we want to get anything longer than a couple thousand words written we have to budget our time and commit to a definite word count every day until we’re done.  That’s one reason why NaNoWriMo is such a great experience.  It’s all about setting a daily goal and meeting it for a whole month.  And at the end of the month?  Well, hopefully your hard work pays off and you get something that looks like it might be a book one day.

But NaNoWriMo isn’t the only writing resource on the internet.  I recently discovered a nifty online writing tool called OnePagePerDay.  If you can’t tell by the name, OnePagePerDay is all about writing one page per day.  That’s all.  You open up the site and have one page worth of whitespace to type in.  Of course you have the option to write more than one page if you want to, but I like to stop when I run out of space on that first page.  It’s fun for me leave a story right in the middle of an important scene and know I won’t be writing any more until tomorrow.

The layout of the site is simple and pristine so there are very few distractions to your writing.  The site also has a “glimpses” feature which allows you to anonymously share what you’ve written.  There is also an option to receive a “gentle reminder” to write your page for the day via email, which is nice if you’re a slacker like me and need a little prodding to get you going some days.  If you’re a writer I recommend you check it out.

And since it is the Christmas season, I am offering you all the gift of a link to a wonderful and uplifting blog by a beginning writer.  I hope you will all get as much enjoyment out of her writing as I have.  The Happiness Project.

Writing Begets Writing

I noticed something interesting during this years NaNoWriMo.  While I was struggling to put out as many words per day as possible on my story, I was also getting all kinds of idea for things I wanted to write blog posts about.  Of course, intuitively you’d think that frivolous things like blog posts would take away from the more important task of writing my alloted word count, but the truth is I almost couldn’t stop them.  During the times when I was most productive on my story, I was also almost compulsively productive with my blog.

Its almost as if creativity is a like a high wind, and when you start to open the door to it, it yanks the door open and rushes into your mind with a frenzied gust of ideas.

Finish!

Wow, talk about a roller coaster. I started out NaNoWriMo doing so well I thought I was going to finish by the 15th. And then I got sick. Twice. That sick time added up to almost a week of no writing at all, and when I got back into it, I still didn’t have the energy I started with. Then I had to work a lot of early shifts at work which made it hard to keep up with my word count since I’m better at writing in the morning. But still I pushed through it and I finished! And the best part is, I actually kept my novel pretty well on track through most of the month with no major surprises. I’m pretty ecstatic right now, since this bring my total of long form-fiction stories to two for this year, and six overall.
That’s right. I’ve written six books in my life. I don’t know if any of them will ever be published, but each is a step on the road to making me a better writer. And I’m not stopping there. I already have two projects planned for next year:
First, a story currently titled Babel and Icarus, which is a fictional non-fiction book chronicling a space race between the North and South during the American Civil War, and second, an expansion of my short story, A Prairie Home Apocalypse or: What the Dog Saw. And that’s all in addition to whatever I decide to write for NaNoWriMo next year.
Now whenever someone tells me about how fast this year went by, I’m going to say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wrote two books this year. Maybe you should start doing something meaningful with your time.” Okay I probably won’t say that. But I’ll be thinking it.