Why I Am Doing NaNoWriMo

2009-11-03

My friend Dan talked me into doing NaNoWriMo this month.

If you're not familiar with this: "Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30."

Yes, I am completely insane.

A few well-meaning folks have congratulated me for taking on this totally mad endeavor, thinking that there is going to be someone waving a contract and a five-figure advance at the end of it. That in writing 175 pages of absolute gibberish, I'm somehow going to be a "novelist."

Here's what I'm going to have on November 30th: 175 pages of absolute gibberish.

I am NOT putting myself, or my abilities, down when I say this. This is the indefatigable truth of the matter: it is absolutely impossible to write the next Moby Dick, or even the next Confessions Of A Shopaholic, in 30 days. It cannot be done.

So why I am doing it?

One -- I am not a fiction writer. Despite my alcoholic predilection for making shit up, when it comes to fiction, I can't make shit up. It has never been my strength as a writer, and I'm okay with this. Nonfiction is what I do. I'm good at it. In attempting to write fiction, even fiction that is 90% based in personal experience, I am challenging myself.

Two -- having to write so much on a daily basis forces me to establish a routine. So come December 1, I will be much more accustomed to writing every day, which can only be a good thing for you, my loyal chickens. Yes, I am doing this for YOU. Really.

Three -- having to write so much on a daily basis forces me to shoot the editor on my shoulder. This has been the hardest obstacle thus far. In just the first two pages, I went back and edited stuff at least three times. I'm not sure how I am going to overcome that. Dan has suggested electroshock.

The most horrifying thing? Looking at what I have thus far and realizing that it's teetering perilously close to "chick lit." My friend Jamie snarked at me this morning: "Isn't that a type of gum?" To which I responded: It's both a gum AND a genre. It's tacky, cloyingly sweet at first, and by the end of it you can't decide whether to throw it out or just swallow it. I hate to think that I am writing such a thing, but I must soldier on.

lisamcc at 6:40 p.m.

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