The NaNoWriMo Monster

(Drawing courtesy of SpaceStationNathan)

NaNoWriMo begins in a couple of weeks, and I'm scared to death.

I wrote last year.  I wrote over 15,000 words.  But...

I got in the way.

I began to look at it as more of an obligation than a gift.  And I don't do well with obligations.  As The Girl said, when I tried to get her to help me clean the house this week, "I don't like to be told what to do."

So when it got hard, I saw it as something that was trying to tell me what to do.  Because of that, I quit.

I didn't make the time for it, like it was the most important thing I wanted to do, but I avoided it because it seemed like something I had to do.

One of you made a very astute comment when I was going through this.  You said something like, "You are having so much trouble because you WANT TO want to write."  Truer words were never spoken.  So I stopped.  Not because of the commenter, though! But because it brought to light what I was actually feeling! I owe the commenter a lot of gratitude for letting me see what I was blinded to at the time.

The thing is, once I saw what I was doing, I stopped writing.  Completely.

Oh, I missed it terribly.  But every time I put a finger on the keyboard, my mind froze into a block of ice and I couldn't squeeze any words out of it to save my soul. That went on for months.  I couldn't write anything for the church group, blog posts, and I even had trouble with my name sometimes.  (just kidding)

Thank God that's over...at least for now.

I have a new story outline for this year, but here's the deal...I do NOT want to get caught in the same trap again.  I want to write because I want to write - not because I have a deadline of so many words by such-and-such a time.  I want to enjoy it!  I don't want to be bogged down with a deadline.

So I have decided that MY NaNoWriMo will be a little different this time.  Instead of concentrating on the word count, I'll concentrate on the quality. Instead of trying to win, I'll try to enjoy. Instead of being stressed out by the process, I'll enjoy the blessing of the ability.

And we'll see where it all goes.

To the Write

Last night there was a NaNoWriMo event at the same local library.  It was aptly named "Come Write In."  Writers were to come in and spend a couple of hours working on their NaNo projects, have some snacks, and talk with each other.  It started at 7 p.m.

I arrived at 6:45 in order to get my seat reserved, knowing there would be hordes of novelists fighting over outlets for their laptops.  I sat down, plugged in, and began writing.

The librarian in charge brought out snacks and coffee, and set them up on the same table used at last Saturday's "party."  I mentioned to her that I thought there would be more people there last Saturday, and she told me that I and one other that she could see were the only ones who attended.  She hoped more would show up for the Write In.  She told me to help myself to the snacks, and if I needed anything or if she could help with anything at all, she'd be glad to assist me.

I had my own coffee (since I'm a coffee snob), and the snacks provided were what looked to be the same doughnuts from last Saturday.  I wasn't hungry, and I felt so sad for the young lady who desperately wanted people to show up.  I sat in my comfortable chair with my good coffee, and actually managed to write.  I worked on two different scenes and glossed up another.

No one else showed up the entire time I was there.

Another librarian happened by as I was writing.   She grabbed a cup of coffee and asked if there was anything she could do to help me.  We chatted for a bit about NaNo and the writing before she went back to the desk and I continued to work.

When I decided it was time to go I was personally invited back for the next session.

While it obviously wasn't the best attended event from the librarians' point of view, it suited me just fine!  I had a quiet place to write, no Monday Night Football playing in the background, and people willing to help in any way they could.  It was a good night.

I ended up the evening with about 1500 words and two new friends.  That's a plus in (and for) any book!

SH!!! I'm WRITING!!!

NaNoWriMo is in full swing.

I attended a start-off celebration at the local library this past Saturday.  Hopeful that I would meet others in the same boat, I arrived fifteen minutes early.  I walked in and looked around, finding a table that had been set up.  The table had two unopened bags of little donuts, coffee, creamer, cups, napkins, and plates. I positioned myself in a comfortable chair about ten feet from the table and opened up my laptop.

I checked Facebook.  I read email.  I looked at the NaNoWriMo site to be sure I was in the right place.

I was the only one who showed up.

At least I think I was.  There was another lady who looked to be busy with her computer, and another who walked past about 2:15.  We three sat in our respective triangle of space and interacted NOT AT ALL.

Of course, I'm to blame for part of it.  I didn't ask the librarians if there was supposed to be mingling or when the actual party was supposed to start. I didn't bring balloons or party hats.  I just waited for the party to come to me.

Turns out that's not the best plan of action.

So, if any of you are doing the NaNoWriMo boogie, would you please let me know?  I'm anxious to hear how your writing is going.  Right now I know of two others who are attempting this feat.  Are you writing?

That's all from Party Central.

Now, off to write!

Scared to the Bone

I'm scared.

Not just because it's Halloween and trick-or-treaters are coming to my door, or because it's supposed to be a "dark and stormy night" or because someone yelled "BOO!" at me.

Nope, I'm scared because tomorrow is the day.  Tomorrow is the day I begin to write.

It's the beginning of NaNoWriMo, where would-be and actual authors commit to writing 50,000 words in one month's time.  Thirty days hath November, and all thirty of them should contain 1,666.66 written words in order to complete the project.

What is the project?

A BOOK.

A real, live, turn-the-pages-and-be-swept-away BOOK.

I figure that if five of those days are worthless, throw-away type days when I write nary a word, I will have to write 2,000 words every day for the remaining 25 in order to declare myself a winner.  At this time I have no doubt that I will lose, making me a loser, but I will try to win.

I will try my very hardest try.

And that, Dear Reader, is why I'm scared.  I hate to fail.  I hate to lose.  I want to WIN.  I want to have that finished manuscript in hand so that I can say I've DONE it...I've finally reached my potential - the one the teachers always said I worked under - for ONCE in my life.

Any encouragement would be appreciated at this point!  Maybe it will hold my feet to the fire more...maybe it will make me feel as though it really is possible. Feel free to comment.

And if I'm not too scared, I'll read it.

Write On...

Clarabelle has been ill of late.

I first noticed her malaise when I would try to write. She'd be just fine for a bit, then start to throw up a whitish, rolling screen of indeterminate origin. If I left her alone for long enough the white screen would resolve itself.  If not, all I'd see was white screen.  She was starting to get on my nerves.

Then came Kindle, and the frustration was pushed aside. There was much rejoicing and reading and listening and downloading. Clarabelle was all but forgotten. Since I wasn't writing much it didn't matter.

But then...

I started writing again. I joined the StoryTellers group at church and reacquainted myself with the written word, something I had all but abandoned these past few years. And while Kindle is fine in his place, he is not so great for the writing.

I like the feel of the keys under my fingers. I like to know that the letter I press will show up on the screen, and I like to be able to read paragraphs all at once in huge print. In this, my little Kindle fails me.

But Clarabelle is a different story.

So on Saturday I picked her up, dusted her off, apologized for my neglect, and took her off to the computer shop. Yesterday I got the call that she is almost as good as new. It seems she still will need a new battery if I ever want to use her without a plug-in, but being as she and I are old, we can manage without that. The main thing is that she is up and running again. Her screen is clear. Her cyber-sickness has been cured, at least for the moment.

I'm thinking Panera might be a kinder, gentler place than Starbucks to hang out and exercise the mad writing skilz next.  Clarabelle could use the workout, and frankly, so could I. 

Cappuccino, anyone?