Got NaNoWriMo FOMO?
Image courtesy of NaNoWriMo.
It’s that special time of year again, the time when we all definitely write a whole novel in one month. Everybody. Every single one of the bodies. And we’ve been doing it for years.
Wait, have you NOT been writing a novel every November? Well that’s just ridiculous. What’s ONE THING you had going on last year that stopped you writing a novel, and before you even say it, I call “no-pandemic-sies.”
Phew. Good. Now that’s out of the way.
I like the idea of NaNoWriMo, and the people running the organization seem a very considerate and supportive bunch. They don’t actually demand you finish a whole novel in 30 days, and they help set up milestones, connect aspiring writers, and offer advice from successful novelists. But if I were just starting out with long-format writing, particularly in this time of year, I would want some advice. And here’s what I’ve got to give:
If you’re just starting, you’re not actually trying to write a novel: This one sounds snide, but hear me out. There’s a world of difference between a novel and a first draft of a novel, and it’s good to keep that in mind. If a novel has a dull opening chapter, very few people are going to want to read it. But if a first draft of a novel, well, that’s not really a problem. The whole point of the first draft is to finish a story and figure out what’s working and what isn’t. Obsessing on the end goal can destroy necessary work in the present. And most days, you aren’t even creating a first draft of a novel. You’re creating a SMALL part of a first draft of a novel. And if a small part of a first draft doesn’t go how you want, who cares? It’s not like you’re about to send it out in the world. There’s time to fix it and be okay with that.
Sometimes it helps to think of a novel as a series of short stories: Building off the above, when your end-goal is a NOVEL in all-caps that is selling at fine bookstores everywhere, it’s easy to get caught up in rushing to the most exciting parts. What helps, especially if you’re new to long-format writing, is to think of each part of the story (the chapter, the episode, however you sub-divide it), as a short story: a short story with its own stakes and tension. If the only point of your chapter is to get to the next chapter, it’s not going to be terribly interesting. But if that chapter forces a character to face some doubts, or builds dread, or celebrates a small, fleeting victory AND sets up what happens next, that’s a chapter that people find interesting.
Writing while Completely Miserable Makes Bad Books: Douglas Adams, author of some of the funniest Sci-Fi ever, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, was a damn funny, talented, and successful author. The first four books of the trilogy (don’t ask) are fun, exciting satire. Then came the last book, Mostly Harmless, which is just…so damn depressing. And that makes sense, because Adams was depressed as hell when he wrote it. I took a lesson from that: Not hitting a goal isn’t going to destroy your story. Creating something that you grow to hate because you’re making it while miserable probably will.
ANYWAY, I better get back to that sixth novel that I finished today, because I’m so productive and great. Have a good one!