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Writer Down, but Not Out

In the beginning, it always sucks.

Saturday night I stayed up well past my bedtime and punched out a little over 1000 words. I liked the opening scene, the characters seemed happy with my plot. I crawled into bed and dreamed about the story.

I couldn’t write again until Sunday night, but all day I brainstormed ideas and dialogue and visualized the characters. Midday, my inner-editor suggested I combine the characters from last year’s story with this year’s story (maybe that’s the problem with last year’s novel – right characters, wrong story). It sounded reasonable and feasible. At 8pm, I sat down and punched out another 1000 words.

But, after 2000+ words, I hated the story. It felt flat and the characters sounded forced, so I did the unthinkable during NaNoWriMo. I deleted, not everything, but about half. I let my inner-editor get the best of me.

Last year about this time, I battled the same doubts and deleting temptations . A chapter or two into the story, I threw my main character in front of a car. Then I thought, that’s just silly. Predictable and silly. I can’t possibly write the next 47,682 words from a hospital bed. I went back and downplayed the whole car scene and re-wrote my character riding safely through the intersection.

During my off-writing time yesterday, I read Natalie Whipple’s recent post on writing a first draft, and one tip stuck with me: Write how YOU write. She reminds us, “The only writer you can be is you. The only story you can write is your own. The only way you’re going to stand out in the market is by channeling your own unique voice. So just accept that and enjoy it.”

Day one of NaNoWriMo, I tried to weave a story like I was some great writer whom I won’t name because it’s really embarrassing that I would even think I could write that way. And, as I spelled out the scenes, the characters didn’t like it one bit, and neither did I. When I went back and rewrote in my own style, the pressure lifted and the characters cooperated.

I admit, I still worry the story will play out like a Hallmark movie (no offense, Hallmark, but I’m hoping for something with a little more meat). So, as I turn to my laptop this afternoon, I will be posting two mantras at the edge of my screen:

1) This is only an exercise. If the story reads jerky and nauseating, like a ride on a wooden roller coaster, it doesn’t matter. No one will go to jail, nor will I lose my day job.

2) “Write as you write,” Christi Craig-style. And, forget about crafting the great American novel, for now.

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It’s Midnight Somewhere

Everyone is asleep at my house, except for me. NaNoWriMo begins at the strike of midnight, and I hope to get at least half an hour of writing in before I crash. NaNoWriMo kick off parties are happening everywhere tonight, and while I’ve never been to one, I can imagine the scene.

A door opens into a surge of energy, a waft of fresh-brewed coffee mixed with the smell of cookies and the sight of candy wrappers scattered across a table, and stories of last year’s NaNoWriMo. Cords stream from laptops to extensions to outlets, creating a web of connections between writers. Minutes before midnight, conversations crescendo, and then – at 12:01 – the noise dips to a low hum of hard drives and the curt click of keystrokes. The race is on.

I wish I were sitting with my friends, Dot and Jenny, in Portland, with a pot of coffee and giddy smiles between us. Instead, I face my laptop alone. The cursor blinks at me, and my thoughts bounce from NaNoWriMo to my pillow and warm blanket and sleep. I may be in for a long 30 days.

***

If NaNoWriMo isn’t your thing but you kind of like the idea of setting high goals in compact amounts of time, then check out Linda Cassidy’s recent post. She and a few other writing pals have designed their own Nano contest, one that promises sparkling clean results.

Or, if you’d rather just write – on your own terms – but need a firm deadline on the horizon, here are two writing contests to consider:

The Collagist’s 2009 Flash Fiction Contest
Women on Writing Fall 2009 Flash Fiction Contest

I work better under pressure, so I love deadlines.  That explains why I’m staying up past my bedtime, waiting for the two hands of the clock to flip to 12.

Right now, it’s 11:01 my time. Somewhere on the east coast, it’s after midnight. A host of voices just rose and fell, wooo!

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Gearing Up for a 30 Day Workout

nano_09_red_participant_100x100_1“[W]riting is physical,” Natalie Goldberg says in her book, Writing Down the Bones (p.50). I, along with many of my other NaNoWriMo participant colleagues (I think), would agree.

Last year at this time, I dove – head on – into writing. I’d been talking about writing all summer. I registered for a writing class that would take place just after the new year. And, in a rare move contradictory to my no-risk personality, I signed up for NaNoWriMo. Even more surprising, I wrote a somewhat lucid story that inched passed the 50,000 word count. Up until the moment the purple NaNo word meter hit the 50,000 mark and flashed “you’re a winner,” I authored only short, undeveloped stories that barely registered 1000 words.

This year, I signed up for NaNoWriMo by accident. Really. I logged on to my account to check up on an old message in my inbox. When a window full of legalese popped up and asked if I would accept, I thought, sure, I’ve been here before. Click.

Wait. Accept? Accept what? Oh, boy.

I tabbed over to my author info page. Sure enough, that little purple line was back down to zero. It stared me in the face, like a digital taunt, daring me to try again.

I’ve had to remind myself, as the days inch toward November 1st, that NaNoWriMo is another exercise in writing. Natalie Goldberg emphasizes the importance of exercise when she says “[t]he rule for writing practice of “keeping your hand moving,” not stopping, actually is a way to physically break through your mental resistances and cut through the concept that writing is just about ideas and thinking” (p.50). She, of course, means pen-to-paper. But, I believe, in translating her philosophy to hand-to-keyboard, NaNoWriMo offers a 30-day plan to whip my writer’s mind in shape: “cut through” my tendency to think too hard about a story, pound out 2000 words a day (on a good day), and see what becomes of the characters and the work.

NaNoWriMo is initiation by fire for those writers who want to come out of hiding. It’s a test of tolerance and discipline. And, it’s an intervention with your mind’s editor, a reason to send her away for the next 30 days. If writing 50,000 words of one story makes you want to take a nap, if you’d rather dream up your story than put it down on “paper,” remember writing is an art to be learned and practiced. No good story comes out perfect the first time around. I’ve heard it over and over, but my stubborn (sometimes egotistical) mind refuses to listen.

To combat that stubbornness, I’ll take on another 30-day challenge of late nights, fast typing, sweat, and a maybe a few tears. Oh, and fun. NaNoWriMo is supposed to be fun!

***

Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones (Boston, MA: Shambhala Publications, Inc, 1986), p. 50.