Writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.

I have written so many introductions.

Since I was a little kid, I have been great at starting things, but awful at finishing them. Every few months I would get an idea for a masterpiece. I would sit down at my little e-machines computer and start writing.

A page was always easy. Even a chapter. But eventually, I would want to take a break. I would go into the kitchen for a snack, and reward myself for my breathtaking creative efforts with some television.

Four days later I would reopen the file sitting awkwardly on my desktop, and reread what I had written. It was, inevitably, utter crap. I hated every word as I read it, and wondered how I could be so foolish as to write the story in that way.

I would, without fail, open a new file on my computer and rewrite the first chapter. It was during this time I cursed the choices one had to make between things like first person and third person, period or current, historically accurate or futuristic. The writing wouldn’t get any better, but I would get more discouraged with each draft. Besides my obvious lack of talent, a whole book was a big commitment!

Plus…I was just a kid.

This was the first encounter I remember with my ego’s incredible duplicity. Fast forward thirteen years, and I am still prone to the same habits. The same doubts. For years I would begin massive writing projects and give up within days, slinking back to my short-format blog posts with my tail between my legs. It wasn’t until June of this year that I found the solution.

I was walking through the Border’s bookstore on Maui with Chanterelle. Like usual, I had retreated as soon as I could to the reference section. That’s where the writing books were. Just browsing the titles made me feel like a writer. Like an author. But I knew, and Chanterelle knew my dirty secret. I had never written anything longer than 2,000 words in my life (save for a REALLY awful play I wrote in a week when I dropped out of high-school and wanted to prove my worth).

The name of the book was No Plot, No Problem!. While I had never lacked in plot ideas, the name drew me in. It begged for attention. And I could relate to that!

I pulled it off the shelf. “How to write a novel in 30 days.” I read the tag-line to Chanterelle with curiosity in my voice.

A quick scan of the back cover told me that the book was the official manual of NaNoWriMo. I had heard of NaNoWriMo, but sluffed the idea off as something for established writers. This book told me otherwise.

NaNoWriMo was a huge event that originated in the bay area, and was created by a guy named Chris Baty (also the author of the book). Individuals who liked to write all got together on the NaNoWriMo website during the month of November and made it their goal to write a 50,000 word novel (the average size of a medium-length book) in just 30 days.

I was disappointed. I loved the idea, but it was nowhere near November.

“Why wait?” Chanterelle asked me when I told her the problem. “Just do it next month!”

I hadn’t considered this. Would I, slave of resistance, even have a fighting chance of completing an entire 50,000 word novel if no one else was doing it? Or, as became increasingly evident, would the attention I received for my originality do better to motivate me anyway?

On July 1st I sat down at the big round wooden table in the downstairs of the house I was living in. I turned on my computer, brewed a big mug of earl grey tea with too much sugar and soy-milk, and began to write.

It wasn’t all that hard the first day. Just as the many times before, I was able to bang out a quick 2,000 words setting up my premise and main character. The difference is: I did it again the next day.

Every day, no exceptions, weekends included, I would wake up to an alarm at 5:00am, take an hour long walk up and down the hills of my neighborhood listening to audiobooks, come back, sit down, and write. I wouldn’t even let myself use the bathroom until I was done. The only thing I was allowed to do besides type is to get up and brew another cup of tea.

30 days and a borderline unhealthy caffeine addiction later, I held in my hands a fully featured 212 page manuscript. The thickness amazed me as I held the stack of papers in my hand. I bound them with a large plastic clip, put the entire thing into a manila envelope, and gave it to Chanterelle.

On the front of the envelope I wrote “The first book ever to be dedicated to Chanterelle Grover.”

I could have given her no better gift.

And on my birthday, October 12th, just a little over a month ago, Chanterelle had decided it was time to repay the favor. I unwrapped my birthday present to find a brand new paperback copy of ‘No Plot, No Problem’, which I had needed to give away when we left Maui due to weight and space limits.

She wanted another novel.

So here I am. It’s day 24 of the official NaNoWriMo. I have a brand new, thick manuscript sitting, half done on my desk, waiting for it’s final 14,000 words. I fell a little bit behind throughout the course of the month when a friend came to visit. But I’ve nearly caught up. Through a series of ‘word wars’ (mini competitions in which two novelists battle for a set period of time – usually 15 minutes – to write the most words), I have been able to write 10,000 words (1/5th of the novel) in the past 2 days.

How is this possible? I have no idea. Where do these words of creativity come from? Not me, I know that for sure.

The question is, how will I get these works read? How will I publish them? It has been a long-standing argument between Chanterelle and I regarding whether to self publish or publish traditionally. I just want people to read my stuff, but she chimes in with the common sense that I should edit my works, and at least give the traditional world a try.

But at this point, that’s neither here nor there. The issue I face every morning is whether to ignore my old friend the critic. The instant editor who has been with me since my 6 year-old self sat down to write.

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