NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month
What is NaNoWriMo? November, for the uninitiated, is National Novel Writing Month. Realistically, anyone can write a novel at any point in the year, requiring as much time as they want. To participate in NaNoWriMo properly, however, you must write at least a 50,000 word novel entirely within the month of November. As such, it’s a little late to start for this year’s NaNoWriMo, but you could always start planning for next year.
As Kristian Wilson explains, there are numerous different ways that writers can approach NaNoWriMo. Most notably, there are people who plan a story and characters in advance, and there are others who begin writing at the start of November with very little forethought. Wilson describes these individuals as “plotters and pantsers” (Wilson, 2018). Either method is acceptable, per the official rules of NaNoWriMo.
“I want to write a novel one day,” said many a would-be author at some point in their lives. Frankly, I’m sure a lot of people have said that. I have even voiced before that I would like to write a novel. I’ve thrown around a few different ideas here and there. A drug-addled or mentally ill man who sees the construction equipment and large buildings of a city as living creatures. The antics of my experiences in MMO games, manifested as fantasy literature. Most recently, I even considered writing a sort of Sci-Fi meta piece that pulls in a little bit of “The Matrix,” a little bit of “Sword Art Online,” and approaches the idea that these people might be able to create the world in which they live. I have plenty of ideas, obviously, but I haven’t made any progress on actually writing about them.
The benefit of NaNoWriMo is that it gives a concrete goal and conditions in which writers compose their novels. It’s only a month, so this isn’t something that participants must commit to for multiple months or years. Even if you “fail” and don’t reach the 50,000 word limit by the end of November, most people still would have made a pretty big dent in the requirement and composed quite a bit of material. You could then use this base to finish the novel outside the confines of NaNoWriMo at your leisure. If worst comes to worst, you scrap the entire work, and you’re out a few hours of your time spent writing.
The drawback of NaNoWriMo is that it encourages writers to get words on paper, even if they are absolute garbage. Sure, that policy is great for meeting a word count requirement, but it is terrible for creating good fiction. “Writing” and “writing well” (or rather “editing”) are two different beasts. I don’t have exact figures, but I can almost guarantee you that the vast majority of participants never return to edit their completed NaNoWriMo entry. Even if they do meet the 50,000 word goal, the resulting pile of garbage is something nobody would actually want to read without quite a bit of refinement. There are notable exceptions, but one does not define the success of an endeavor by the 1% or less that worked well.
For what it’s worth, NaNoWriMo is at least a stimulus to get people to write. I considered for a while that I might attempt it this year. I had enough ideas that I could flesh out into some tentative outlines. With some planning, I could get enough of a backbone that filling out 50,000 words of narrative and detail wouldn’t be so difficult. The worst case scenario would be that I didn’t finish and just wasted some time.
Looking into criticism and commentary on NaNoWriMo, I came across an article by Laura Miller that single handedly destroyed any inspiration to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, and probably for several years to come. I am not easily dissuaded, but Miller’s criticism of NaNoWriMo was so convincing, so potent, that I really saw no need in even attempting to write a novel in my current condition as a reader and writer.
Miller quickly and openly admits the benefits of the event. She explains that “NaNoWriMo spurs aspiring authors to conquer their inner critics and blow past blocks” (Miller, 2010). As the writer of a weekly blog, I can certainly confirm that writer’s block will delay posts for weeks or months sometimes. Miller further identifies revision of “really, really bad first drafts” as the surest way to create a decent finished product. Past these few compliments, however, Miller’s criticism of NaNoWriMo is both pointed and effective.
The first observation that Miller lists comes from a conversation with Ann Bauer on writers approaching her to ask her opinion on potential story ideas. Bauer’s tactic is to lead the conversation into asking what these people read, to which they respond with a variation of “Oh, I don't have time to read. I'm just concentrating on my writing.” This isn’t a criticism in and of itself, but it does serve to highlight the absurdity and narcissism of many writers. Why bother reading the works of authors who are objectively better writers, when you could spend time writing an obviously inferior piece of your own creating? I don’t mean that this should be taken to the extreme, and that potential writers should always consume and never produce, but they should certainly seek to find a balance. Know your place. Recognize the talent and status of the legendary authors that come before you. As good as you might be, your novel will probably not scale to the level of a modern Brontë sister. You might have a great idea for a macabre short story, but the works of Edgar Allan Poe will almost definitely remain better.
Let’s consider for a moment, though, that you do manage to finish your NaNoWriMo novel. We’ll even go so far as to say that you edited and revised it, and it’s pretty good. So good, in fact, a publication house decides to pick it up. You’re living the dream then, right? Not so fast. Miller points out the unfortunately likely outcome of this already unlikely scenario: “even authors who achieve what probably seems like Nirvana to the average NaNoWriMo participant -- publication by a major house -- will, for the most part, soon learn this dispiriting truth: Hardly anyone will read their books and next to no one will buy them.”
I get paid to write articles on various technical and software development topics. However, I receive payment for these because I am given a topic to write on, and I give these clients what they’ve requested. My own fiction compositions, I would never expect to be able to sell, especially not in large quantities. If/when I write a novel, I would probably put a digital copy on Amazon for free, just to offer it for people to read. One ambitious young girl that I knew, a student in middle school, was working on writing her novel. I suggested that she might want to put it online for free, and maybe build an audience for it. “No,” she rejected, “I’d rather make some money from it.” I didn’t have the heart to explain to her how the world works, and that the only copies she would sell would be to friends and family who wanted to support her. Selling books on the merit of the author’s writing ability is a difficult prospect, especially when that author is just a slightly above average middle school student.
The coup de grâce of Miller’s argument is as follows: “Writers are, in fact, hellishly persistent; they will go on writing despite overwhelming evidence of public indifference and (in many cases) of their own lack of ability or anything especially interesting to say.” NaNoWriMo is inherently unnecessary, as we writers are notoriously tenacious. No matter if our audience cares, a point proven by the fact that I’ve continued this weekly blog for four years without significant feedback or interaction. No matter if we aren’t necessarily *good* writers, given the large amount of bad writing I see available nearly everywhere on the internet. No matter if what we say is interesting, given I wrote a review of a processed bowl of instant noodles. No matter any of these potential deterrents, writers will write. Why, then, do we need NaNoWriMo to encourage us?
Contrary to Miller’s assertion that “writers have a reputation for being tormented by their lot, probably because they're always moaning so loudly about how hard it is,” I personally enjoy writing and tend to avoid complaining about it. There are certainly people who do complain about the difficulty of writing, but it’s the same type of person who wants attention and recognition for doing anything. If you like writing, then write. If not, don’t do it.
By this point, however, any fleeting idea of participating in NaNoWriMo was surely gone completely. Miller was absolutely right. If I did write something, it wouldn’t be good. If it was good, it wouldn’t get published. If it did get published, it wouldn’t sell well. And admittedly, I don’t read anywhere near as much as I should. Considering the situation, if I read more, it would probably make me a better writer in turn. I would be exposed to more different writing styles, equipping me to form my own voice more comprehensively. Furthermore, reading more of the classics of literature, I would add to my toolbox of allusions and plot devices, which should logically allow me to write more interesting and compelling narratives.
The last novel that I remember reading was Michael Crichton's “Jurassic Park” back in 2012 or so, when I was in college. Without paying attention, I’d gone six years without reading a single book, besides the children’s books that I read with my kids. Could I even read anymore? Sure, I read online articles and such, but actual literature is a different ball game. I picked up a novel, "The Dragon's Bane," written by a friend and old co-worker back in April 2016. First paid copy, actually. When it was temporarily available in digital format for free, I also picked that up so I could read it even when I didn’t have my physical copy available. I got a few chapters in, and… never actually finished it. That was two and a half years ago. Sorry, Joe.
After successfully quelling my interest in participating in NaNoWriMo, whether it was her intention or not, Miller goes on to suggest that readers instead attempt the “10/10/10” challenge. Created by Kalen Landow and Melissa Klug, “these two women read 10 books in 10 categories between Jan. 1 and Oct. 10, focusing on genres outside their habitual favorites.” Not only does it give stimulus to read, but the challenge encourages readers to explore other genres and authors. Instead of gravitating to the same two or three high fantasy fiction writers, dedicated readers could discover some new favorites.
Alternatively, if you’re like me and haven’t picked up a book in half a decade, make a pact to just read one book. Life gets in the way, I get that, but reading is an absolute joy. And in just under a year, surely you can make a point to read at least a single book. It doesn’t have to be as long as Leo Tolstoy’s “War and Peace,” or part of a huge series like Robert Jordan’s “The Wheel of Time.” Just read something. If listening is easier than reading, and especially if you have a long commute to work, audiobooks are an incredible option. With all of the ways that you can consume literature, and with the vast collection in circulation at your local library, reading is accessible to everyone.
I plan on continuing my Book Report series at least through 2019, which should more or less coincide with attempting the 10/10/10 challenge. For accountability, I’ll update my reading log with what I start and successfully finish. If anyone wants to collaborate on specific books for the challenge, I would definitely be interested in sharing opinions on new books and genres. I probably won’t write that novel for NaNoWriMo 2019, but I definitely want to read a lot of books next year. Who knows, maybe something on my reading list will come from one of those breakthrough authors of NaNoWriMo 2018.
Resources:
Miller, L. (2010, November 02). Better yet, DON'T write that novel. Retrieved October 24, 2018, from https://www.salon.com/2010/11/02/nanowrimo/
National Novel Writing Month. (n.d.). How It Works. Retrieved October 25, 2018, from https://nanowrimo.org/how-it-works
Wilson, K. (2018, October 22). If You Don't Like To Outline, Add These 9 Writing Tools To Your Cart. Retrieved October 24, 2018, from https://www.bustle.com/p/9-easy-national-novel-writing-month-prep-tools-for-people-who-write-by-the-seat-of-their-pants-12626389
 |
| Source: https://nanowrimo.org/ |
As Kristian Wilson explains, there are numerous different ways that writers can approach NaNoWriMo. Most notably, there are people who plan a story and characters in advance, and there are others who begin writing at the start of November with very little forethought. Wilson describes these individuals as “plotters and pantsers” (Wilson, 2018). Either method is acceptable, per the official rules of NaNoWriMo.
“I want to write a novel one day,” said many a would-be author at some point in their lives. Frankly, I’m sure a lot of people have said that. I have even voiced before that I would like to write a novel. I’ve thrown around a few different ideas here and there. A drug-addled or mentally ill man who sees the construction equipment and large buildings of a city as living creatures. The antics of my experiences in MMO games, manifested as fantasy literature. Most recently, I even considered writing a sort of Sci-Fi meta piece that pulls in a little bit of “The Matrix,” a little bit of “Sword Art Online,” and approaches the idea that these people might be able to create the world in which they live. I have plenty of ideas, obviously, but I haven’t made any progress on actually writing about them.
The benefit of NaNoWriMo is that it gives a concrete goal and conditions in which writers compose their novels. It’s only a month, so this isn’t something that participants must commit to for multiple months or years. Even if you “fail” and don’t reach the 50,000 word limit by the end of November, most people still would have made a pretty big dent in the requirement and composed quite a bit of material. You could then use this base to finish the novel outside the confines of NaNoWriMo at your leisure. If worst comes to worst, you scrap the entire work, and you’re out a few hours of your time spent writing.
The drawback of NaNoWriMo is that it encourages writers to get words on paper, even if they are absolute garbage. Sure, that policy is great for meeting a word count requirement, but it is terrible for creating good fiction. “Writing” and “writing well” (or rather “editing”) are two different beasts. I don’t have exact figures, but I can almost guarantee you that the vast majority of participants never return to edit their completed NaNoWriMo entry. Even if they do meet the 50,000 word goal, the resulting pile of garbage is something nobody would actually want to read without quite a bit of refinement. There are notable exceptions, but one does not define the success of an endeavor by the 1% or less that worked well.
For what it’s worth, NaNoWriMo is at least a stimulus to get people to write. I considered for a while that I might attempt it this year. I had enough ideas that I could flesh out into some tentative outlines. With some planning, I could get enough of a backbone that filling out 50,000 words of narrative and detail wouldn’t be so difficult. The worst case scenario would be that I didn’t finish and just wasted some time.
Looking into criticism and commentary on NaNoWriMo, I came across an article by Laura Miller that single handedly destroyed any inspiration to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, and probably for several years to come. I am not easily dissuaded, but Miller’s criticism of NaNoWriMo was so convincing, so potent, that I really saw no need in even attempting to write a novel in my current condition as a reader and writer.
Miller quickly and openly admits the benefits of the event. She explains that “NaNoWriMo spurs aspiring authors to conquer their inner critics and blow past blocks” (Miller, 2010). As the writer of a weekly blog, I can certainly confirm that writer’s block will delay posts for weeks or months sometimes. Miller further identifies revision of “really, really bad first drafts” as the surest way to create a decent finished product. Past these few compliments, however, Miller’s criticism of NaNoWriMo is both pointed and effective.
The first observation that Miller lists comes from a conversation with Ann Bauer on writers approaching her to ask her opinion on potential story ideas. Bauer’s tactic is to lead the conversation into asking what these people read, to which they respond with a variation of “Oh, I don't have time to read. I'm just concentrating on my writing.” This isn’t a criticism in and of itself, but it does serve to highlight the absurdity and narcissism of many writers. Why bother reading the works of authors who are objectively better writers, when you could spend time writing an obviously inferior piece of your own creating? I don’t mean that this should be taken to the extreme, and that potential writers should always consume and never produce, but they should certainly seek to find a balance. Know your place. Recognize the talent and status of the legendary authors that come before you. As good as you might be, your novel will probably not scale to the level of a modern Brontë sister. You might have a great idea for a macabre short story, but the works of Edgar Allan Poe will almost definitely remain better.
Let’s consider for a moment, though, that you do manage to finish your NaNoWriMo novel. We’ll even go so far as to say that you edited and revised it, and it’s pretty good. So good, in fact, a publication house decides to pick it up. You’re living the dream then, right? Not so fast. Miller points out the unfortunately likely outcome of this already unlikely scenario: “even authors who achieve what probably seems like Nirvana to the average NaNoWriMo participant -- publication by a major house -- will, for the most part, soon learn this dispiriting truth: Hardly anyone will read their books and next to no one will buy them.”
I get paid to write articles on various technical and software development topics. However, I receive payment for these because I am given a topic to write on, and I give these clients what they’ve requested. My own fiction compositions, I would never expect to be able to sell, especially not in large quantities. If/when I write a novel, I would probably put a digital copy on Amazon for free, just to offer it for people to read. One ambitious young girl that I knew, a student in middle school, was working on writing her novel. I suggested that she might want to put it online for free, and maybe build an audience for it. “No,” she rejected, “I’d rather make some money from it.” I didn’t have the heart to explain to her how the world works, and that the only copies she would sell would be to friends and family who wanted to support her. Selling books on the merit of the author’s writing ability is a difficult prospect, especially when that author is just a slightly above average middle school student.
The coup de grâce of Miller’s argument is as follows: “Writers are, in fact, hellishly persistent; they will go on writing despite overwhelming evidence of public indifference and (in many cases) of their own lack of ability or anything especially interesting to say.” NaNoWriMo is inherently unnecessary, as we writers are notoriously tenacious. No matter if our audience cares, a point proven by the fact that I’ve continued this weekly blog for four years without significant feedback or interaction. No matter if we aren’t necessarily *good* writers, given the large amount of bad writing I see available nearly everywhere on the internet. No matter if what we say is interesting, given I wrote a review of a processed bowl of instant noodles. No matter any of these potential deterrents, writers will write. Why, then, do we need NaNoWriMo to encourage us?
Contrary to Miller’s assertion that “writers have a reputation for being tormented by their lot, probably because they're always moaning so loudly about how hard it is,” I personally enjoy writing and tend to avoid complaining about it. There are certainly people who do complain about the difficulty of writing, but it’s the same type of person who wants attention and recognition for doing anything. If you like writing, then write. If not, don’t do it.
By this point, however, any fleeting idea of participating in NaNoWriMo was surely gone completely. Miller was absolutely right. If I did write something, it wouldn’t be good. If it was good, it wouldn’t get published. If it did get published, it wouldn’t sell well. And admittedly, I don’t read anywhere near as much as I should. Considering the situation, if I read more, it would probably make me a better writer in turn. I would be exposed to more different writing styles, equipping me to form my own voice more comprehensively. Furthermore, reading more of the classics of literature, I would add to my toolbox of allusions and plot devices, which should logically allow me to write more interesting and compelling narratives.
The last novel that I remember reading was Michael Crichton's “Jurassic Park” back in 2012 or so, when I was in college. Without paying attention, I’d gone six years without reading a single book, besides the children’s books that I read with my kids. Could I even read anymore? Sure, I read online articles and such, but actual literature is a different ball game. I picked up a novel, "The Dragon's Bane," written by a friend and old co-worker back in April 2016. First paid copy, actually. When it was temporarily available in digital format for free, I also picked that up so I could read it even when I didn’t have my physical copy available. I got a few chapters in, and… never actually finished it. That was two and a half years ago. Sorry, Joe.
After successfully quelling my interest in participating in NaNoWriMo, whether it was her intention or not, Miller goes on to suggest that readers instead attempt the “10/10/10” challenge. Created by Kalen Landow and Melissa Klug, “these two women read 10 books in 10 categories between Jan. 1 and Oct. 10, focusing on genres outside their habitual favorites.” Not only does it give stimulus to read, but the challenge encourages readers to explore other genres and authors. Instead of gravitating to the same two or three high fantasy fiction writers, dedicated readers could discover some new favorites.
Alternatively, if you’re like me and haven’t picked up a book in half a decade, make a pact to just read one book. Life gets in the way, I get that, but reading is an absolute joy. And in just under a year, surely you can make a point to read at least a single book. It doesn’t have to be as long as Leo Tolstoy’s “War and Peace,” or part of a huge series like Robert Jordan’s “The Wheel of Time.” Just read something. If listening is easier than reading, and especially if you have a long commute to work, audiobooks are an incredible option. With all of the ways that you can consume literature, and with the vast collection in circulation at your local library, reading is accessible to everyone.
I plan on continuing my Book Report series at least through 2019, which should more or less coincide with attempting the 10/10/10 challenge. For accountability, I’ll update my reading log with what I start and successfully finish. If anyone wants to collaborate on specific books for the challenge, I would definitely be interested in sharing opinions on new books and genres. I probably won’t write that novel for NaNoWriMo 2019, but I definitely want to read a lot of books next year. Who knows, maybe something on my reading list will come from one of those breakthrough authors of NaNoWriMo 2018.
Resources:
Miller, L. (2010, November 02). Better yet, DON'T write that novel. Retrieved October 24, 2018, from https://www.salon.com/2010/11/02/nanowrimo/
National Novel Writing Month. (n.d.). How It Works. Retrieved October 25, 2018, from https://nanowrimo.org/how-it-works
Wilson, K. (2018, October 22). If You Don't Like To Outline, Add These 9 Writing Tools To Your Cart. Retrieved October 24, 2018, from https://www.bustle.com/p/9-easy-national-novel-writing-month-prep-tools-for-people-who-write-by-the-seat-of-their-pants-12626389
Comments
Post a Comment