Lesann Berry

So I decided I wasn’t going to participate in Nanowrimo this year. After slogging through two years in a row and still having two completed novels languishing on the hard drive, I thought I’d pass. Be responsible. Not glut the wordbox with a new snarly mess of stuff.

Then I had the IDEA. You know what I’m talking about. That insidious little thought that drifts past, floats out trailing tentacles, and roots deep in your psyche. I tried to shake it for days. Didn’t work. So here I go, Nanowrimo bound!

Come on…you can do it too. I’ve got a Satan-approved schedule till the end of the year, thousands of miles to travel, two deadlines to a publishing house, a book release, writing and critique groups, and a family…but it is the month of literary abandon. We. Must. Write. Won’t you come be abandoned with me?

Nothing will look as good as that first day of December. Nanowrimo and the month of feverish typing receding in the rearview mirror, the holidays horrifyingly upon us, and the end of the year looming nigh. This is the voice of peer pressure. Succumb. You know you want to. Nano is of course, the gateway drug to writing another novel. Think of me as your word pimp, except I don’t get a cut of the profits. Humor me – somewhere in all this writing business SOMEBODY has got to be making money.

Hell, I may even get a visit from the mighty Thor in the middle of Nanowrimo. Can you imagine having to entertain the God of Thunder during the month of wordy deluge? I’m hoping he’s enjoying his world tour so much that the pace is slow…

Still unconvinced? Fine. I’ll bring out the big guns. This is for the KIDS. That’s right. Nanowrimo is thirty days of literary bliss but it’s also about literacy. You can read this other post talking all about how you should feel guilty for having so much fun. Throw the Office of Letters and Light ten bucks and get on board. Don’t make me stop the happy bus and stomp around in my angry feet, donate here, already.

I’ll be honest, I’m cheating a bit this year but I think it’s making things harder. Instead of writing one novel, I’m aiming for two novellas, each one a minimum of 25K in length. Linked stories with different main characters, different POVs, and a whole mess of plotting and planning.

My novella experiments may never see the light of day come December, but that isn’t the point. Part of this literary marathon is to stretch our creative muscles, limber up the vocabulary and let the words fly. It’s manic and fun and satisfying. Stop procrastinating and get on board, already. Jeez. What’s stopping you?