I Have Permission To Write An Awful 50,000 Word Novel
I have always thought it would be cool to write a novel like Michael Chabon or A.S. Byatt. If I could be a novelist, of course I would want to be one of Pulitzer quality. Throughout the years I’ve daydreamed about it – usually about actually sitting at a desk writing what I knew to be my novel. In my daydream, I wrote stories with the confidence of an experienced and applaudable writer.
In my real writing life, I write stories about music programs in the inner city and arts-based preschool programs for at-risk three to five year olds, hoping to win something more valuable than a Pulitzer for my clients. I seek funding.
I’ve never thought of myself as a fiction writer, but for the month of November I’m going to try my best to play one. I’ve joined the ranks of thousands participating in what is affectionately called NaNoWriMo – or National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write a 50,000-word novel by midnight, November 30. Because you only have thirty days, the only thing that matters is output. As it states on the website, the object of this exercise is to “…build without tearing down.”
I find the whole premise liberating. I don’t think I could have attempted a novel under any other circumstances. Quantity, not quality is key. I am free to write crap. In fact, it’s almost expected that I’ll write crap. I feel so comfortable with this goal, that I’m willing to put myself out there and pledge to the world that during November, I will be writing crap. It will be so perfect in its craptitude that the public will just marvel at its crappiness.
So, I’m free to experiment, to try things out, to not really know what the &*%($#! I’m doing and just do it anyway. I cannot tell you how much I’m looking forward to this.
P.S. There aren’t many rules to NaNoWriMo, but this one stands out: “Write more than one word repeated 50,000 times.” Drats! I guess I’ll have to fall back on Plan B!
