Every autumn as November nears, the cracking of knuckles and the scratching of cerebellums can be heard across the land – heck, by now it might be global. Yes, you guessed it the behemoth adventure that is NaNoWriMo cometh.
Known alternatively as the month of writing dangerously, November holds a dear place in the heart of scribblers far and wide. Celebrated with sporadic tears and the gulping of wine, and punctuated by the groans of those who’ve gnashed together weak verbs – once you’ve jumped into the madness it’s difficult to not participate every year.
It is the annual month of madness. Are you ready?
I have metaphorically girded my loins and prepared for the first of November. Outline at the ready, I plan to complete a novel within the time constraints. If you’d like to give it a go but aren’t sure where to start – visit Matthew’s website for some excellent advice. He’s got a great post about preparing your headspace HERE and a plan for quality production so at the end of the month you have a readable and workable first draft HERE. Go ahead, check it out with your clickity finger.
There’s merit in this idea of writing madly for a month. You get to turn on the creative faucet and let ideas gush out. You can always clean it up later but you’ve got to get the words on the page first. And it doesn’t have to suck. With proper planning and a little realistic perception that not every word is going to make it into the final draft, I think it’s doable. We’ll see come November 30th.
Who’s in? C’mon, it’s fun. All the cool kids are doing it… okay, that never worked with me either. Peer pressure always makes me dig in my heels. But still, you should give it a shot.
Want to share your progress? Hit me up at NaNoWriMo – my tag is LesannBerry.
While you’re busy clicking links, try THIS ONE so I can pressure you into supporting the literacy programs which drive NaNoWriMo. Not enough? Then READ THIS last-ditch effort to get you onboard. If not, it’s your loss. No bulletproof coffee for you. No messy manuscript at the end of thirty days of literary abandon. No golden halo over your head. You don’t want to risk that, right? I didn’t think so.
See you December 1st… and happy writing.