It's Halloween, so it's time to talk about something really scary - this NaNoWriMo business.
(I know - I'm a YA horror writer (for now), and I'm publishing a blog post that's pretty much not even slightly Halloweeny. Sue me.)
First off, I'm going to hold my hands up to something. The day after I published my last post, I was shown up for the doofus I am. I made a somewhat blaze comment about how nothing good ever came of this mad writing contest. I questioned whether anything had actually been published as a result of it. Well, something has been published. Quite a few something's. Some of them are in my house. One of them is the favourite book of one of my daughters. (That last sentence is terrible.)
Here's the link: www.goodreads.com/blog/show/1072-24-books-that-won-nanowrimo
Here's the link: www.goodreads.com/blog/show/1072-24-books-that-won-nanowrimo
She bloody loves this book.
It came out of #NaNoWriMo! Shows what I know, eh?
When you're blogging, research my friends. Research. A regular feature of this blog is 'don't do things the idiot way, like what I do'...
Back to business.
This Goodreads post shouldn't change your expectations. As always in the world of novel writing, those 24 are a teeny tiny percentage of the amount of books actually written. The odds are still stacked way against you (sorry to be discouraging). Honestly? I still think that the first and ONLY reason you should write is for yourself. Like any art, it should be an expression of yourself. Yes, secondly it should be for others - plenty will ask the question 'Why write if not for it to be read?' I agree with that. You paint a picture, it should be seen. But unless you have done it as an expression of your true self, then what is the point of that work of art? It must be something only you could produce for it to be worthwhile. Attempts to sell that work should come much later, when the writing is done.
An example: me. I've written for a couple of decades now. Fifteen years of them, not one single novel published. It was discouraging, I vowed to give up a million times or so... but I couldn't. Writing is my second life. I have stories I need to see through to the end. There are characters... no, people in those stories, and I want to know how things turn out for them. There's no way of stopping it. I have to know.
And that's the biggest part of why I'm chucking myself to the lions of #NaNoWriMo. There are so many stories, and November gives me an excuse to dive into another one, see how it turns out. It's the curiosity.
There's a box. There's something shiny at the bottom, that's all you can see. There's something rattly in there too. Why not stick your head in, have a look?
One other thing that's tickling me: there's so many other NaNoWrimers out there, pinching their noses and jumping in at the deep end. All of those potential stories, all of those opening lines, all of those furious streams of creation, all of those frustrations, all of those wonderings at where things are going... and everyone supporting each other on Twitter, on the www.nanowrimo.org website, on wherever else they meet... Brilliant.
Look out for them in your local coffee shop. You'll recognise them. They'll be the ones bashing their foreheads against the laptop, hoping the words will just fall out.
Oh, you know in my last post, how I said I was almost definitely probably writing that story about a boy and his strange jigsaws, and how I've been waiting years to write it? Might have almost definitely probably changed my mind.
Never saw that coming.
Laters.




