I have to write like 4000+ words today to catch up. Meanwhile, my story sucks so bad that I have stopped backing it up. I figure if I lose whatever I’ve written since the last backup, it’ll be a relief.
Last night I fell asleep watching Shaun of the Dead without a single thought of daylight savings time or NaNoWriMo. Luckily, I woke up at 6 this morning (which turned out to be 5 — see daylight savings time) and was able to write a few words before everyone else got up. I’m at 426 after an hour of teeth-pulling. I definitely don’t have any sort of NaNoWriMo mojo going on, but let’s assume this won’t go on forever.
One of the appealing aspects of NaNoWriMo is the ability to track progress. The only way I can stay on task is to create a paper trail that proves that I’ve done something other than stare out the window and stuff my face with Kashi bars all week. Uploading my latest chunk of scribbles and seeing my word count go up on the NaNo website is satisfying and validating.
Equally appealing is the public nature of NaNo. My tongue-in-cheek motto — and presumably the motto for about 2/3 of our population — is, “If it’s not on Facebook, it didn’t happen.” If I don’t post my word count for the world to see (as if they are interested, but let’s not explore that too deeply), did I really write those words?
It’s fall. For my mom, fall means nesting. For me, it’s always meant change: going back to school, going off to college, starting a new job, having babies, re-entering the work force after three years at home, buying a house, buying a cabin in the woods.
Fall also means NaNoWriMo.
Last year was my first year. It was life-altering, those 30 days of writing at a frenzied pace and knowing hundreds of others were hunkered over their laptops with me. It was the first time I’d written fiction since high school. And I actually met the goal of filling a few Google Docs with 50,000 words, though they are 50,000 words I never want to see again. For someone who has trouble completing big undertakings (unless there’s money involved or a life depends on my efforts), this was an encouraging experience.
Over the past year, I’ve learned a lot, I think, about writing, mostly thanks to Victoria and her many resources and workshops. And while my NaNoWriMo entry will still be 50,000 words of nonsense requiring hours of editing and reworking, I am excited to see how much better I can do this November than last.
The other day, I received an email from Chris Baty, the NaNoWriMo guy. Actually, he sent the email to all NaNoWriMo authors, not just to me. He suggested that we join Script Frenzy and write a 100-page script in April.
I had heard of Script Frenzy and it didn’t interest me. Theater people are a different breed of creatives. I wouldn’t fit in over there, despite the fact that I wear black most every day. However, Chris mentioned that many Script Frenzy participants are first-timers, and the website gives how-to information along with links to authoring tools (apparently, script-writing has a lot of formatting conventions; I cannot resist formatting conventions).
At least this will give me something to blog about — I can only come up with so many useless adjectives.